It’s that time of year again, kids, that magical time when every reputable audioblogger and online music publication offers up their Best of 2007 lists for their own aggrandizing self-amusement. A few things have changed here at Floodwatchmusic since the Best of 2006 list a year ago. For one, this year I made more of a conscious effort to keep track of, and listen to, as many new releases as I could get my hands on, despite my general inclinations to seek out long-established favorites for extended periods of time and revisit reliable standbys. This would ensure that little would slip past my ears that deserved an inclusion on my best-of roster, unlike last year (hello, Lilys, Relay, and Ludicra). I also increased the number of standout records from ten to twenty and got rid of the ‘What I Really Listened To’ follow-up post, whose selections cross-pollenated each other last time, for obvious reasons. Today I’ll post the first ten, on Wednesday the rest, then on Friday I’ll take cheap shots at everyone’s favorite bands and artists and wait for the playground disses and death threats to blow up my Inbox. Fun! Onto the contenders:

20. Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings 100 Days, 100 Nights Daptone 2007

What Sharon Jones and Daptone Records house band The Dap-Kings lack in originality is made up for by the irresistible, Southern-fried funk grooves found within the group’s third outing 100 Days, 100 Nights (2007). But even better is the record’s dusty fidelity, a warm, analog-compressed sound that would easily pass as a Stax platter circa 1968 at a blind listening session. It’s tough to imagine Jones’ earthy, honey-dripped voice sounding better in front of any other band, such is their level of musicality and intuitive response to her vocal (see The Dap-Kings’ uncredited contributions to the success of Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black [2006]). The title track has been receiving some exposure on the airwaves lately but it’s the less prominent cuts on the album that I enjoy hearing the most, like the uptempo romp “Tell Me” or the jukebox balladry of “Humble Me.” It’s doubtful that Jones will push the direction of Soul into uncharted territory anytime soon, but in the meantime, the summertime warmth and retro vibe of 100 Days, 100 Nights will suffice quite nicely.

“Nobody’s Baby” – Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings 2:27 (100 Days, 100 Nights, Daptone 2007)

19. A Place to Bury Strangers A Place to Bury Strangers Killer Pimp 2007

I love effects pedals. Literally, I dream about them. In my dream, I’m about to plug my guitar into an infinite chain of stompboxes, spread out on the floor of an abandoned warehouse space as far as the eye can see, a colorful menagerie of tube distortions, icy choruses, infinite delays, and some unidentifiable homemade joints with nothing on them but a switch and a few knobs. In other words, I’m Oliver Ackermann, curator of Death by Audio effects pedals and frontman for Brooklyn trio A Place to Bury Strangers. Touting oneself as “the loudest band in NYC” is a pretty surefire way to catch my attentions, and I had been waiting for over a year for some kind of official release from these guys when this limited-edition, self-titled set dropped this past summer. A Place to Bury Strangers (2007) simply complied the free mp3s that had been available on their site plus a few other studio jams to pad out a full-length, but I suppose anything is better than nothing from the band. Apparently it’s next to impossible to describe the sound of A Place to Bury Strangers without comparisons, so here’s my go at it: combine the drum-machine clatter of early Ministry with the stoned psychedelia of The Jesus and Mary Chain, then top with the white-noise pop of Medicine and you’ll have a pretty good idea of what this group sounds like. Or: shards of digital feedback raining down like sheets of broken glass over candy-coated dream-pop confections while an archaic drum machine thunders away relentlessly underneath. Sure, it’s derivative, but one could have worse influences to display on their sleeves, and if anything, this will whet my appetite for their deafening live shows.

“To Fix the Gash in Your Head” – A Place to Bury Strangers 3:51 (A Place to Bury Strangers, Killer Pimp 2007)

18. Beneath the Massacre Mechanics of Dysfunction Prosthetic 2007

Jaw-dropping technical death metal at its finest. Canadian quartet Beneath the Massacre’s Mechanics of Destruction (2007) is the closest sonic approximation of technological warfare on record, with rapid-fire blastbeats capable of tearing through steel armor and bursts of distortion rippling across a nuclear-charred landscape like the radiation from dirty bomb. It’s pretty intimidating stuff, not to mention utterly vexing when one tries to wrap the head around the truth that the band’s drummer, a one “Justin Rousselle,” is in fact a real, living human being. The absence of concrete grooves here is justified by the lightning-speed guitar runs, the advanced mathematical time structures, and subterranean growls of vocalist Elliot Desgagnés. Hell, the whole thing is a mindfuck of massive, unavoidable proportions; it’s much wiser to let Mechanics of Destruction complete its assault head-on and pray that you make it out alive. To echo the sentiments of fellow blogger Joseph: what the hell are they putting in Montreal’s public water supply?

“The System’s Failure” – Beneath the Massacre 3:29 (Mechanics of Dysfunction, Prosthetic 2007)

17. Wu-Tang Clan 8 Diagrams SRC 2007

I honestly didn’t think 8 Diagrams (2007) would make my best-of list when I was first absorbing it a few weeks ago, yet here I am still listening to it on an almost daily basis. I’m fascinated by its flaws, floored by the highlights, and still addicted to the chemistry and the competitiveness that hip hop’s finest bring out in each other. Ignore the “hip hop hippie” accusations and internal bickering about the production; musically, 8 Diagrams is clearly RZA’s most personal statement to date, undoubtedly a love’s labor that would qualify as a worthy swan song in Wu-Tang’s recorded legacy. Other than the train wreck that is “The Heart Gently Weeps,” every selection here succeeds at being a uniquely independent entity: the bizarre Western gallop of “Wolves,” the epic mid-tempo centerpiece “Stick Me for My Riches,” the nocturnal menace of “Gun Will Go.” Even the lesser filler tracks like “Tar Pit” and “Get Them Out Your Way Pa” are preferable to most of the rubbish that qualifies as hip hop nowadays. This record currently has more detractors than defenders (in no small measure due to the almost unbearable anticipation and pre-release hype, to say nothing of the hideous cover art), but as I predicted in my original analysis, let 8 Diagrams age five years or so and watch the scales tilt the other way.

“Rushing Elephants” – Wu-Tang Clan 3:00 (8 Diagrams, SRC 2007)

16. The Mugs Here Tomorrow Skinny Fat 2007

The best record of the year from the best band you’ve never heard of. Just when you think that every harmonic and structural possibility in pop music has been exhausted, Brooklyn quartet The Mugs have found a fresh new way of interpreting those oh-so-familiar changes within the standard pop song framework on Here Tomorrow (2007). This is a record to get lost in, more of a 50-minute ‘experience’ than a tangible product, and one that requests your full attention in order to make the most of its rewards. What’s most remarkable is how well the band succeeds at every style they attempt – raucous barroom rock (”Grey Cat Row”), sunny afternoon pop (”Lady Liberty”), keyboard-heavy dirges (”Asleep All Day”), and a myriad of others – yet still manage to mold the album into a cohesive statement. Unassuming, refreshing, and without any pretension, Here Tomorrow is perfectly content with its own disposition as a quiet little masterpiece.

“Indian God” – The Mugs 4:37 (Here Tomorrow, Skinny Fat 2007)

15. Dinosaur Jr Beyond Fat Possum 2007

“Getting the band back together” is almost always a bad idea. It’s the reason why I pray that Morrissey and Marr will maintain their severed alliance and Kevin Shields doesn’t get any wise ideas about attempting to create a Loveless v2.0. And somehow, with every possible card stacked against them – J’s ghostly, cocaine-hangover demeanor, Lou’s purported inability to bury the hatchet, and an unshapely Murph removing his shirt onstage – Dinosaur Jr pulled it off last year for an original-lineup reunion tour with dates across the country. Sure, I saw them, and they kicked ass (despite playing in one of the worst venues in the Boston area). Did I expect You’re Living All Over Me (1987) levels of studio magic from their post-tour recording sessions? Christ, no. But Beyond (2007) surpasses anything I could have expected from guys this age. Granted, I have a few qualms about the record – Barlow’s bass is buried in the mix and Murph naturally sounds a little less emphatic than the drum giant who absolutely slaughtered the kit on Bug (1988) – but look at what I’m comparing it to (albeit unfairly). If you don’t own Dinosaur Jr’s SST catalog then Beyond will probably induce little more than a shrug of the shoulders, but for those of us who grew up with those records (read: crabby thirty-something white males), this release is like a long-awaited homecoming between childhood friends.

“Crumble” – Dinosaur Jr 4:04 (Beyond, Fat Possum 2007)

14. Ghostface Killah The Big Doe Rehab Def Jam 2007

In what’s practically become an annual event, the latest from Tony Starks makes a further case for Ghostface’s rising candidacy as hip hop’s G.O.A.T. With a lyrical dexterity that is honed sharper every year, a riveting storytelling ability on the level of the mighty Slick Rick and Kool G Rap, and an encyclopedic proficiency in metaphors and street slang, it’s become harder to argue against the claim. While The Big Doe Rehab (2007) is certainly no Fishscale (2006), it’s still a solid follow-up, its only hindrances being some flavorless production (a significant chunk of it from Sean C and LV of The Hitmen) and some ill-advised inclusions, like the pointless interlude “The Prayer” and an embarrassing, track-ruining appearance from weed carrier Shawn Wigs. Still, Ghost makes the most out of his surroundings, like the gripping capers of “Shakey Dog Starring Lolita” and “Yolanda’s House” (featuring a hilarious and absolutely scene-stealing Method Man), the complex wordplay on posse cut “Paisley Darts,” and the introspective depths of “I’ll Die for You.” If anything, just anticipating what kind of crazy shit will come out of Ghost’s mouth will be entertaining enough for most listeners.

“Yolanda’s House” – Ghostface Killah feat. Method Man & Raekwon 4:36 (The Big Doe Rehab, Def Jam 2007)

13. Underworld Oblivion with Bells ATO 2007

After a lengthy five-year wait since the duo’s last full-length, Underworld finally released Oblivion with Bells (2007) this past autumn to a somewhat tepid public reception. Some of the more clueless listeners that were expecting Ibiza-shaking dancefloor anthems like “Rez” and “Born Slippy” were sorely disappointed, while many were indifferent to the record’s subtle mood pieces and artier tendencies. Like their previous A Hundred Days Off (2002), this one was definitely a grower for me, and it took at least a dozen listens before I began to make any headway in penetrating its dense atmosphere. I’m still reaping the record’s rewards, like the dark, sophisticated elegance of “Beautiful Burnout,” closer “Best Magmu Ever”’s dubby momentum, and album highlight “Holding the Moth,” which has got to be one of the sexiest things I’ve heard all year. Karl Hyde’s stream-of-consciousness vocals are given the same prominence as a persistent hi-hat pattern in the left channel or an icy synth that streams through the center of the mix, never processed the same way twice, and partner Rick Smith’s intuition for pacing and structure is impeccable. I’d also be remiss if I failed to mention that the group has the loveliest-sounding string pads of any electronic outfit working today. I don’t expect to see Oblivion with Bells on too many ‘07 year-end lists; its requires a certain patience and intimacy for its flower to fully blossom.

“Best Magmu Ever” – Underworld 9:12 (Oblivion with Bells, ATO 2007)

12. El-P I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead Def Jux 2007

My own personal sequence of events following the release of Def Jux figurehead El-P’s I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead (2007) mirrored those of Fantastic Damage (2002) five years ago. At first listen I found the record off-putting, confrontational, muddled. An artistic disaster, if you will. I staunchly resisted it for weeks. Eventually my curiosity got the best of me, and I began to approach it cautiously, one track at a time. Then came the addiction. Before long I was incapable of making it through the day without my fix of the avant-garde collages of “Smithereens” and “Flyentology,” the thunderous mechanical breakdowns on “Run the Numbers,” and the b-boy renaissance of “EMG.” El-P’s pen is sharper than ever, conjuring sci-fi futurescapes and barbed political scribes couched in his remarkable gift for metaphor and cryptic wordplay. And for once, the guest spots don’t sink the record; here, their subtle contributions actually improve it, like Matt Sweeney’s heavily-wah’d guitar on opener “Tasmanian Pain Coaster” or Chan Marshall’s dry vocals on “Posenville Kids No Wins.” The sheer sonic density of I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead ensures that it will receive a few dozen listens before it can even begin to be grasped, and a record like this that forcefully pushes the envelope – not just that of hip hop, but structured sound – rightfully deserves every one of them.

“Smithereens” – El-P 4:32 (I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead, Definitive Jux 2007)

11. MF Grimm The Hunt for the Gingerbread Man Class A 2007

While many of his fans were still somewhere in disc two or three of last year’s American Hunger (2006), Monsta Island Czar MF Grimm dropped The Hunt for the Gingerbread Man (2007) this past summer, an odd little record whose most notable characteristic was that it flew under the radar of most heads and over the heads of most critics. Concept albums in hip hop are nothing new, if not already on their way to becoming a fad these days, but Grimm’s adaptation of a timeworn fairy tale into a violent and riveting ghetto narrative has to be heard to be believed. Here Grimm adopts the persona of Gingy, whose adventures include seducing the sweet-toothed Gretel (”My House”), his escape from the fox – after he’s been eaten, in graphic detail – and subsequent revenge (”The Fox”), and managing his various criminal enterprises in the metaphorical world of Candyland (”Gangsta Pastries,” “Half Baked”). On the surface, the whole thing sounds corny as hell and would likely fail miserably were it not for Grimm’s phenomenal lyricism and some choice productions (the majority of it handled by Stricknine). Undoubtedly his darkest and most introspective release to date (”Gingy” could pass as a cut from one of his gully mid-’90s white labels), Gingerbread Man is a fascinating listen from start to finish and a fine testament to Grimm’s imagination and continued relevance.

“Head in the Clouds” – MF Grimm 4:08 (The Hunt for the Gingerbread Man, Class A 2007)

On Wednesday: the countdown continues.