4. THE NATIONAL: "Apartment Story" (Beggars Banquet)
It became obvious to me that Boxer was my top album of the year when I realized how much of a struggle it was to settle upon a favorite song from the New Yorkers' urban-melodrama masterpiece. In the end, though, I found myself throwing my heart with wild abandon into the moody hurly-burly of "Apartment Story," a churning, stuttering midtempo romp - downright dance-y by the album's standards - which offers solace from the mean streets in the form of cooped-up domesticity, a welcome prospect to these ears after spending yet another day in the stimulus-overload of the Haight. Matt Berninger might not be in possession of the broadest vocal range, but the man is in total control of every moan, drone, and mumble he lends to his skin-burrowing observations. Astonishing.

5. POP LEVI: "Blue Honey" (Counter/ Ninja Tune)
Everybody - leg-kicks for Satan! Glam is back - and this time, it's evil! Occasional auxiliary Ladytron member Pop Levi might look like a Shakespearean dandy, with his Renn Faire haircut and earnest beard, but underneath it all lies a fiendish heart, ready to wreak havoc with the memory of Ziggy Stardust, the New York Dolls, and - most unapologetically doppelganger-worthy of all - T. Rex. Anchored by a wondrously unpleasant whirring keyboard riff and a plodding red-faced rhythm, "Blue Honey" could very well be the goat-sacrifice counterpart to T. Rex's Electric Warrior. Sure, he's rocking those handclaps like nobody's business, and I'll be damned if I ain't sweating hard by the song's end, but this is witchery, I tell you, pure witchery! More, please.

6. CANDIE PAYNE: "I Wish I Could Have Loved You More" (Deltasonic UK)
Love! Danger! Intrigue! Candie Payne's got all those bases covered, as her deeply Dusty-in-Portishead soul-noir demonstrates. I'd be seduced by the song's Stax Records-indebted choppy rhythm guitar all by itself, but once that switchblade-sportin' Link Wray guitar rumble saunters in, I'm sold. Next thing you know, a few swanky rounds of spy-movie horns and a pummeling beat have burst into the picture, and I'm shaking and shimmying my inner mod to the sweet-faced kiss-off of Payne's Dusty Springfield delivery. The whole affair might end in blood and tears, but for now Carnaby Street feels like the most exciting place on earth.

7. THE CLIENTELE: "Isn't Life Strange" (Merge)
"Spin me 'round/ I'm falling", Alasdair MacLean sighs in the most honeydripping of tenors as he takes a tumble into a lush bed of chamber strings; meanwhile, the world rushes on by without him, burning through the hours without so much as a pause. Unabashedly sentimental and knee-tremblingly elegant, "Isn't Life Strange" makes me long for simpler times, for a slower pace to my days. Care to meet me in the garden, then, for a spot of afternoon tea? I've found the perfect soundtrack.

8. BLONDE REDHEAD: "Silently" (4AD) Girl-group romanticism, filtered through the lens of an early-'80s teen-comedy as re-interpreted by Sofia Coppola. Soda-fountain pop gets quite the makeover: Kazu Makino cries an eerie river out of the Shangri-Las puppy-love melody while Simone and Amedeo Pace fashion a stylish update of the early Duran Duran/Visage/Japan template. And while we're at it, do I hear echoes of Blondie, Air, and the Lost in Translation soundtrack drifting in and out of the glittery proceedings? Defiantly retro and yet still so undisputedly ahead-of-the-curve, "Silently" manages to sound both instantly familiar and unlike anything else that came out this year.

9. TEDDY THOMPSON: "She Thinks I Still Care" (Verve Forecast)
The first of three covers on this year's playlist - here, the sweet ache of Teddy Thompson's impossibly rich tenor heaps an extra layer of melancholy over George Jones's already weepy country classic. Stripped of much of the original's countrypolitan honky-tonk twang, this take slays me with its deceptively simple string-quartet accompaniment to Thompson's silky croon. Listen closely, though, and you'll soon lose yourself in the delicate tendrils curled around each and every heartfelt syllable by the impeccably placed flutters of violins and cellos. Nashville has never sounded so classy! Sublime.

10. JOSE GONZALEZ: "Down the Line" (Mute)
A man alone with his guitar might sound like a yawn-inducing proposition for many, but it doesn't have to be that way: when done right, this bare-bones stratagem can prove to be mighty powerful, as the work of Swedish-Argentine classical-guitar-punishing folkie Jose Gonzalez attests. I was tempted to pick his radical re-think of Massive Attack's "Teardrop" - a tense, carefully crescendoing confessional which sends the hairs on the back of my neck a-bristling by the song's self-destructing climax - but the brooding menace and live-wire jitters of "Down the Line" ultimately made the greatest impression on me. "Don't let the darkness eat you up," he urges over a mesmerizing, insistent guitar line, and I'm inclined to take his advice to heart. The alternative sounds more troubling than I could possibly bear.

11. SPOON: "The Underdog" (Merge)
How do they do it? Yet another carefully constructed, rhythmically intricate pop-heaven feather in the collective cap of the inimitable Britt Daniel and his gang of classic-FM-radio mixologists, "The Underdog" is perhaps the most imaginatively catchy musical moment of the year. Hot-pepper hand claps bob and weave between the speakers, tambourines and bells shuffle along an infectious clatter, a swinging horn section shouts up to the rafters - and why do I keep hearing mid-'70s Paul Simon every time I put this on? No, wait, come back! I meant Rhymin' Simon in a good way, of course.

12. SHARON JONES AND THE DAP-KINGS: "100 Days, 100 Nights" (Daptone)
It's all about the breakdown - about halfway through these swanky New Yorkers' Etta James-inspired bluesy romp, the ever-spunky Jones puts everything on pause to declare, "Wait a minute - baby, I need to slow it down a little, to take my time," and then proceeds to lead the band in a dramatic, swaying shuffle reminiscent of Ray Charles. A fine finale, indeed, but oh the breakdown! The entire future of love itself seems to hang in the balance during this briefest of moments, when Little-Miss-Don't-Mess-With-Me steps up and puts the world on notice. The lesson? Any soul song featuring a monologue is bound to make a believer out of me, for starters. Oh: and don't make Sharon angry.

13. JIM JAMES AND CALEXICO: "Goin' to Acapulco" (Sony)
There were plenty of contenders from this year's twisted Dylan tribute I'm Not There - Mark Lanegan's "The Man in the Long Black Coat" is shiver-inducing, while Richie Havens's nervy take on "Tombstone Blues" makes for fascinatingly tense listening - but the slow-building mariachi drama of "Goin' to Acapulco" remains the most evocative selection on the two-CD set. Jim James' high lonesome holler is the perfect match for Calexico's desert pictorials, and the addition of twinkling glockenspiel and Mexican-sunset trumpets seals the deal. This is a sweeping, big-screen adaptation of the Dylan classic, all longing and reminiscence as the suns burns on regardless of the intentions of us petty little humans.

14. BETTYE LAVETTE: "Talking Old Soldiers" (Anti-)
She's said so many times herself: Bettye LaVette is not a songwriter, but rather an interpreter of other people's songs. And how! Having overhauled works by Neil Young, Aimee Mann, and Sinead O' Connor in the past - and thus rendering them completely hers in the process - LaVette moved on to Elton John this year, remaking the moving ballad "Talking Old Soldiers" into a devastating barroom confessional. "I know how it feels to grow old," the 60-something soul-belter croaks over aching pedal-steel and moody piano, and feeling every barb and crackle in her fiery oratory, I don't doubt her for a second.

15. JESSE SYKES AND THE SWEET HEREAFTER: "The Air Is Thin" (Barsuk)

Pitched somewhere between Marianne Faithfull and Patti Smith, Jesse Sykes brandishes a hypnotic rasp that is at once electrifying and weepy. The Sweet Hereafter is the most intuitive bar band in the world, cranking out a no-nonsense countrified clatter that is equal parts Crazy Horse and the Band. Together, they remain one of the most scandalously under-recognized bands out there, capable of crafting sweet sweet hoodoo out of three chords, a bottle of whiskey, and some good old-fashioned heartbreak. Feel like a good cry? Here's your ticket.

16. CELEBRATION: "In This Land" (4AD)
Time for a war-dance, then! Check that tribal drum action: the best I've heard since Killing Joke or maybe the Creatures or TV on the Radio! Speaking of the last in that little run-down: turns out that Baltimore's kookily named Celebration (sound like a cheeseball suburban nightclub to you, too, eh?) share more than just a few rhythmic affinities with TVOTR. The Brooklyn band leaves its mark all over this beautiful beast of a record, particularly in terms of swooping harmonies and a handsomely layered production by David Andrew Sitek. "In This Land" reminds me of "Running up That Hill"-era Kate Bush - only perhaps a bit more agitated.

17. GRINDERMAN: "Honey Bee (Let's Fly To Mars)" (Anti-)
I couldn't imagine a greater tension-release this year than the divinely unholy racket blustered out by Nick Cave's Grinderman project, wherein Mister Sin-vs.-Salvation slimmed down his backing crew by half but still managed to sound louder than anything he's ever done with the Bad Seeds. Better yet: they out-Stooged the Stooges, whose reunion album was a letdown after all the build-up. Nothing else sounded as bone-rattlingly primal as this, and "Honey Bee" for me was their finest moment of tight-focused ferocity, despite the flit of whimsy suggested by the title.

18. SIOUXSIE: "Here Comes That Day" (Universal)
A one-two punch from post-punk icons: first Cave and now the reigning anti-diva herself, Siouxsie Sioux, here apparently on a first-name basis with her solo debut. Good news - it's everything we've come to expect of the former Banshee/Creature, while still offering plenty of new surprises. Such as? How about the best James Bond theme to miss out on the big screen. And what a strut!

19. JENS LEKMAN: "Kanske Ar Jag Kar I Dig" (Secretly Canadian)
This could very well be the new working definition of "perfect pop song" - buoyant, effervescent, infinitely hummable, and, best of all, smart as all hell. I was suckered from the get-go by that swoon-worthy a cappella opener. Think more Jamie Lidell, less Billy Joel, mercifully. The infatuation grew deeper with each succeeding croon and stumbling bit of self-deprecation. The clincher? "I offered you some chocolate/You declined so sweetly and commented on my jacket/It makes you look like a lumberjack but are you man enough to wear it?/I said it used to be my grand-grandfather's what could I do but inherit it?" By the song's resplendent trumpet-and-synth-squiggle coda, I was already completely, seismically smitten.

20. VON SUDENFED: "Fledermaus Can't Get It" (Domino)
Nag nag nag. Looks like Mark E. Smith's got yet another bug up his arse! Not that we'd want it any other way, honestly. There are certain universal constants we should take comfort in, and one of them is that ever-so-charmingly acerbic Smith is always primed and ready to give out a much-welcome tongue-lashing. Here, the Fall frontman has joined forces with German electro-wizards/brave souls Mouse on Mars for a gleefully maniacal four minutes of noggin-grinding bedlam. What could have descended into mere ridiculousness instead triumphs as riveting, jealously-inducing ridiculousness. "Fledermaus" also sweeps the trophy for - drumroll, please - top video of the year, thanks to the inspired vamping of some of Germany's most weirdy-beardy drag queens: