By Noel Murray

Quick, somebody tell me the difference between SR-71 and Blink 182! How about 3 Doors Down? Eve 6, anyone? In the year 2000, the dominant rock ’n’ roll trend in radio and video was the “number bands”—young, visually nondescript, and musically generic acts with a hit in heavy rotation and no future. They wore their numbers like masks, as if daring the casual fan to tell them apart. Watching VH1, it was hard to tell if you were rocking out or filing for a mortgage.

The trend toward numerical designation puts one in the mind of 2001 and HAL-9000, which points the way to the dominant story in music this year (and probably next year as well): the impact of new technology on the way music is produced, distributed, and experienced. Well-connected young people are listening to a larger amount and a more disparate range of music these days; they’re just not paying for it. The fragmentation of audience that began when SoundScan was introduced and everyone learned what was really selling has stabilized into two factions—those with computers, who cheaply sample everything available and stay committed to almost nothing, and those without, who follow mostly where the industry leads them.

Meanwhile, those big record companies are cashing in as always on one-hit wonders, while bands making money for themselves are getting creative. It’s possible in this new era to sell records in the six figures and to sell out shows across the country and still be an unknown to the people who get their tips from Top 40 and MTV. This is becoming the age of the hardworking touring act, or the buzz band who gets passed along to an elite few via e-mailed MP3s. That’s actually good news for musicians, who are finding it more possible to make a living. It’s bad news for those of us who like the idea of the pop phenomenon that unites the country and the world behind the force of an unstoppable monster hit.

But some major band or some charismatic artist will break in the near future; it’s the way these things work. Someone will figure out how to master the new game of grassroots development, and the money-changers will scramble to catch the wave.

I doubt that any such miracle will be performed by any of the artists below, but while we’re waiting for a savior, you could do a lot worse than digging some excellent rock music. A ton of solid stuff came out this year, helped along by a welcome trend toward concise but ambitious albums, with an emphasis on synthesizing the groove-happy abilities of new electronic gizmos with the atmosphere and passion of classic rock ’n’ roll.

A Top 25 for ’00

1. Marah, Kids in Philly (Artemis) A new generation of rock heroes, bred on Springsteen, the Stones, and The Replacements. A classic “city album,” bursting with characters, incidents, and observations, flavored with the spice of the melting pot.

2. 12 Rods, Separation Anxieties (V2) Synth-washed guitar-pop like we haven’t heard since the heyday of The Cars; and because they’re produced by Todd Rundgren, these retro-futurists are almost better at a slow simmer than a rolling boil.

3. Lambchop, Nixon (Merge) A warm vision of country soul confirmed by just the opening notes of songs like “Grumpus” and “Nashville Parent”—so confident, so exact, and yet so suffused with fragility.

4. U2, All That You Can’t Leave Behind (Interscope) The most surprising and welcome comeback of the year—a classic rock album with the elegant melodies, inventive arrangements, and deeply felt sentiments of the band’s best.

5. Coldplay, Parachutes (Nettwerk) A compelling debut, derivative of Jeff Buckley, Radiohead, and American Music Club, but distinguished by the subtlety with which these youngsters meld lilting tunes and haunting atmosphere.

6. Yo La Tengo, And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out (Matador) At times so restrained that it’s barely there, this ghostly rock record evokes the feeling of reaching out for something that’s (perhaps momentarily) gone.

7. Josh Rouse, Home (Slow River) Deceptively simple, Rouse’s sophomore effort is actually a fruitful experiment in breaking down rock to the core virtues of indelible hooks and pleasing arrangements. It’s a record you live in, uncluttered and comfortable.

8. Modest Mouse, The Moon & Antarctica (Epic) Coming on the heels of a career-defining singles collection, Isaac Brock’s leap into major-label production values finds him expanding his mind-bending use of circular guitar patterns to suggest the infinite regression of life itself.

9. North Mississippi Allstars, Shake Hands With Shorty (Tone-Cool) Using the basic framework of classic blues-rock as an excuse for dazzling instrumental interplay, these scions of music legends Jim Dickinson and R.L. Burnside demonstrate spectacular control of the groove.

10. Ryan Adams, Heartbreaker (Bloodshot) Too spare at first (and second, and third), this mild-mannered solo debut from the Whiskeytown wunderkind eventually opens up and reveals itself as a satisfying application of stark country style to postpunk yearning.

11. Radiohead, Kid A (Capitol) Undercooked and overly aloof, but also lovely and nerve-jangling and alive in ways that these overpraised cult faves haven’t quite managed before.

12. Idaho, Hearts of Palm (Idaho) More of the same from Jeff Martin’s sadcore project, but this fifth LP features refinements of “twangst” that presage gorgeous new arenas for whispery voices and echoing guitars.

13. The Apples in Stereo, The Discovery of a World Inside the Moone (SpinArt) Aggressively entertaining retro-pop, steeped in rich arrangements, energetic performances, and choruses that stick like syrup.

14. Robbie Williams, Sing When You’re Winning (Capitol) A sampler of contemporary British popular music that expands on the tentative steps of last year’s American debut, making bombastic balladry and disposable hip-shakers into an expression of cosmopolitan pizzazz.

15. Self, Gizmodgery (Spongebath) Their loosest, most back-to-front likable album yet, thanks to the inventive use of some toy instruments.

16. PJ Harvey, Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea (Island) Still too raw and intentionally unpleasant at times, but starting to find a level of approachability for Harvey’s minimalist punk blues.

17. The Delgados, The Great Eastern (Beggar’s Banquet) Sparkling and baroque, with songs that drift at length through vivid scenes of people at the point of decision.

18. Grandaddy, The Sophtware Slump (V2) Technological decay as natural wonder, with the scope of the American Southwest as a backdrop.

19. Versus, Hurrah (Merge) The continuing adventure of a guitar hero who’d rather insinuate than overwhelm, this pretty piece of poppy rock loses points only for the general slightness of its subject matter, more silly than expressive.

20. Joe, Marc’s Brother, Around the Year With... (Ambassador) The unfettered joy of crafting catchy sounds and clever words is brought to life in this celebration of loud pop eclecticism.

21. Billy Bragg & Wilco, Mermaid Avenue Vol. II (Elektra) Not as revelatory as the first edition, but peppered with almost as many great songs.

22. Steely Dan, Two Against Nature(Giant) Soft at its edges, but the four songs in the middle of this sardonic fusion revival are as vital as anything on this list.

23. Nelly Furtado, Whoa, Nelly!! (DreamWorks) Worldbeat meets teenpop meets distaff troubadouria. Sometimes the collision breaks stuff, sometimes it creates an arresting new design.

24. Neil Young, Silver & Gold (Reprise) Another toss-off in a career bloated with them, but casually acoustic Young has plenty of charm, especially compared to casually raucous Young.

25. Kelly Hogan & the Pine Valley Cosmonauts, Beneath the Country Underdog (Bloodshot) One the best (and most unsung) voices in rock ’n’ roll, howling through a set of rootsy standards and originals. A minor delight.

Three great EPs

1. Belle & Sebastian, Legal Man (Matador) Forget the disappointing LP; this brisk three-song set shows Scotland’s most precious Gloomy Guses enjoying their developing precision.

2. The Obscure, The Politics of Person (A.D.) In a year full of exciting local music, this frayed journey into the heavy heart of shimmering garage rock was an endlessly impressive surprise.

3. Creeper Lagoon, Watering Ghost Garden (SpinArt) This group is now signed to DreamWorks, where their kaleidoscopic approach to pop-rock song craft should feel at home alongside new labelmates Elliot Smith and Rufus Wainwright.

Three great compilations

1. A Tribe Called Quest, Anthology (Jive) Making a seamless connection between their witty slices-of-life and their jazz-anchored statements of purpose, this is as essential as hip-hop gets.

2. Blur, The Best Of (Virgin America) Five LPs’ worth of overtaxed concepts and off-putting arrogance is boiled down to 18 good-to-great tracks. This is ’90s Britpop explained and partially vindicated.

3. Moby, Songs 1993-1998 (Elektra) The map between club-bound dance cuts and expansive attempts to find the beat-driven root of music is laid out, and it’s a hell of a thing.

17. The Delgados, The Great Eastern (Beggar’s Banquet) Sparkling and baroque, with songs that drift at length through vivid scenes of people at the point of decision.

18. Grandaddy, The Sophtware Slump (V2) Technological decay as natural wonder, with the scope of the American Southwest as a backdrop.

19. Versus, Hurrah (Merge) The continuing adventure of a guitar hero who’d rather insinuate than overwhelm, this pretty piece of poppy rock loses points only for the general slightness of its subject matter, more silly than expressive.

20. Joe, Marc’s Brother, Around the Year With... (Ambassador) The unfettered joy of crafting catchy sounds and clever words is brought to life in this celebration of loud pop eclecticism.

21. Billy Bragg & Wilco, Mermaid Avenue Vol. II (Elektra) Not as revelatory as the first edition, but peppered with almost as many great songs.

22. Steely Dan, Two Against Nature (Giant) Soft at its edges, but the four songs in the middle of this sardonic fusion revival are as vital as anything on this list.

23. Nelly Furtado, Whoa, Nelly!! (DreamWorks) Worldbeat meets teenpop meets distaff troubadouria. Sometimes the collision breaks stuff, sometimes it creates an arresting new design.

24. Neil Young, Silver & Gold (Reprise) Another toss-off in a career bloated with them, but casually acoustic Young has plenty of charm, especially compared to casually raucous Young.

25. Kelly Hogan & the Pine Valley Cosmonauts, Beneath the Country Underdog (Bloodshot) One the best (and most unsung) voices in rock ’n’ roll, howling through a set of rootsy standards and originals. A minor delight.

Three great EPs

1. Belle & Sebastian, Legal Man (Matador) Forget the disappointing LP; this brisk three-song set shows Scotland’s most precious Gloomy Guses enjoying their developing precision.

2. The Obscure, The Politics of Person (A.D.) In a year full of exciting local music, this frayed journey into the heavy heart of shimmering garage rock was an endlessly impressive surprise.

3. Creeper Lagoon, Watering Ghost Garden (SpinArt) This group is now signed to DreamWorks, where their kaleidoscopic approach to pop-rock song craft should feel at home alongside new labelmates Elliot Smith and Rufus Wainwright.

Three great compilations

1. A Tribe Called Quest, Anthology (Jive) Making a seamless connection between their witty slices-of-life and their jazz-anchored statements of purpose, this is as essential as hip-hop gets.

2. Blur, The Best Of (Virgin America) Five LPs’ worth of overtaxed concepts and off-putting arrogance is boiled down to 18 good-to-great tracks. This is ’90s Britpop explained and partially vindicated.

3. Moby, Songs 1993-1998 (Elektra) The map between club-bound dance cuts and expansive attempts to find the beat-driven root of music is laid out, and it’s a hell of a thing.