Weatherwise, 2005 brimmed over with excitement – Hurricane Katrina one-upped General Sherman’s… Weatherwise, 2005 brimmed over with excitement – Hurricane Katrina one-upped General Sherman’s infamous march to the sea with the devastation it inflicted on New Orleans, a violent earthquake in the Himalayas shook Pakistan and India like a James Bond martini and Southeast Asia is still recovering from the army of tsunamis that claimed more than 200,000 lives and obliterated entire villages.

Musicwise, 2005 was a bit more subdued. In fact, only two groundbreaking mainstream releases come to mind – Kanye West’s Late Registration and Fiona Apple’s Extraordinary Machine, both of which owe their firstborn to the production magic of Jon Brion – and one colossal failure, too: Liz Phair’s Somebody’s Miracle gave us a smiley-but-sad arsenal of soccer-mom rock that’s glossy enough to ice skate on.

But a good number of 2005’s best releases, albums and singles alike didn’t appear on Billboard Top 40 or nab any MTV Moonmen. Rather, they accomplished such feats as revamping the folk song for a younger and possibly more restless generation, humanizing electronic music and splicing ’70s glam rock and ’90s grunge for a new sound altogether. Sorry, Liz, but miracles just don’t come so easily.

Martha Wainwright

“Bloody Motherf—— Ass—-“

Bloody Motherf—— Ass—- EP

Zoe Records

While its title suggests something Trent Reznor penned on one of his moodier days, Martha Wainwright’s “Bloody Motherf—— Ass—-,” known also as the tamer-sounding “B.M.F.A.,” is among the prettiest public denouncements ever put to music.

Sounding absolutely nothing like her brother Rufus’ sophisticated croon, she delivers a one-guitar folk song that shreds any credibility her famous father, Loudon Wainwright III, could ever hope to retain as a parent – “B.M.F.A.” is a direct reference to dear old dad.

With an opening line that tosses a Molotov cocktail at Loudon’s career (“Poetry is no place for a heart that’s a whore”) coupled with guilt-inducing lyrical content (“And you have no idea/No idea how it feels to be on your own/In your own home”), it’s clear the Wainwright residence wasn’t exactly a Norman Rockwell family portrait.

In every biting phrase and vulnerable quaver of her voice, Martha Wainwright’s crafted a seminal anthem about fatherless adolescence that’s as ballsy as it is beautiful. She’s a Patti Smith you can hug.

Ladytron

“Destroy Everything You Touch”

Universal Island

Often icy and detached-sounding, electronic music needed either a reality TV-backed makeover or a swift, efficient coup d’etat. This year saw Ladytron opting for the latter, and to its credit, no one lost his head on the chopping block.

“Destroy Everything You Touch,” the first single off the excellent The Witching Hour, is Ladytron at its most realized – a huge-sounding dance track capable of moving feet like a 9.1 on the Richter scale. But Ladytron’s real revolution is found in the song’s structure, not its sound.

Refreshingly, Ladytron has avoided adding any looped vocals, and the lyrics actually challenge the listener to feel – in this case, anger and condemnation for that certain someone who’s, well, destroyed your perception of what love should be along with your willingness to trust (“Everything you touch you don’t feel/Do not know what you steal”).

So, whether you’re dancing angrily on Ladytron’s behalf or simply taken aback by the tour de force that is “Destroy,” just take consolation in the fact it wasn’t written about you.

Wolf Parade

Apologies To the Queen Mary

Sub Pop

Equal parts Bowie and Nirvana, Canadian indie-rock outfit Wolf Parade has delivered the finest love-and-death-themed concept album since The Arcade Fire’s remarkable 2004 opus, Funeral. Produced by Modest Mouse lead singer Isaac Brock, Wolf Parade’s debut full-length, Apologies To the Queen Mary, wears both its heart and its influences on its sleeve – but with a release this solid, all of this can be happily overlooked.

Opener “You Are a Runner and I Am My Father’s Son” marches in on playful, Tom Waits-y drums and piano, delivers Modest Mouse-type vocals and a Bowie-esque, spacey guitar riff toward its close, but somehow maintains a completely singular sound. At its center is a moving yet abstract account of one person damaged by another’s aversion to serious commitment.

Hands down the most romantic and captivating track on Apologies, “I’ll Believe in Anything” believes in dreamy one-liners and fresh starts. After a brief intro of psychedelic organs, pronounced percussion and a Celtic-sounding guitar riff, part-time lead vocalist Spencer Krug pleads, “Give me your eyes/I need sunshine.” You know from his delivery he’s completely in the earnest and not just on some beer-fueled quest to get laid.

The song’s lovesick mood is cemented with what perhaps serves as the album’s most affecting – and affected – set of lyrics: “I wish I could take you where nobody knows you/And nobody gives a damn.” It’s certain, though, that Wolf Parade really does give a damn about its music. And you should, too.

M.I.A.

Arular

Interscope

She’s seen the world, she’s anti-war, she’s worth the hype. Meet Maya Arulpragasam, known more succinctly to fans as M.I.A. This London-cum-Sri Lanka rapper teamed up with producer-boyfriend Diplo to create Arular, a dynamic transglobal pop record that’s been receiving press since its first single, “Galang,” was released in September 2004.

By now, you’re sure to have heard “Galang” blaring its hypnotic beat somewhere – it’s garnered repeated plays on MTV, is featured as the soundtrack to a Honda Civic commercial and is even available as a cell-phone ring tone.

But don’t write off M.I.A. as a commercial pop musician lacking a message behind her music. Arular stands as a powerful indictment of violence – the majority of its tracks were inspired by a civil war in her native country, Sri Lanka, and her lyrics juxtapose images of unarmed villagers with guerrilla snipers, rape and other wartime debauchery. She’s even thrown in some anti-Bush rhetoric.

Politics aside, the music itself is an eclectic, perhaps eccentric, blend of U.S. hip-hop, U.K. dance, baile funk and grime. With such a commanding debut under her belt, it won’t be long before M.I.A. earns herself a higher rank in the States, both as a performer and as an outspoken media personality. And, hey, she’s not afraid to rhyme either – her latest single, the mid-tempo, innovative “Sunshowers” offers some sound advice: “It’s a bomb yo/So run yo/Put away your stupid gun yo.”

Her alias may be M.I.A., but you’ve just found your new favorite artist.

E-mail Derek your 2005 musical picks at [email protected].