Editors' Choice

Okay, so my list is really long. Really long. Eighteen albums is kind of silly, n'est-ce pas? But eighteen is the number that encompasses my admittedly eclectic, long musical history. I fell in love with music when I was five when I bought my first tape-The Smurfs' All-Star Show. I watched "Solid Gold," "Soul Train" and "American Bandstand" on a fanatical basis. And when high school hit, I spent every cent on music and dated only boys with cool music taste. So don't scoff at the number of selections on my list (which, by the way, are in no particular order)-there could've been at least twenty more, okay? The Smiths The Queen Is Dead (Rough Trade/Beggars Banquet) The band that made me love true alternative music (before the term became corrupted, mind you). The Smiths' very British outlook helped all gawky, nerdish adolescents deal with their budding hormones and bodies; they tracked the gap between what we long for our lives to be, and what they really are with impeccable lyrics and guitarwork. The penultimate track, "There Is A Light (That Never Goes Out)," puts me on the verge of wistful melancholy every time. Velvet Underground and Nico (Verve) If you like alternative music, you like the Velvet Underground, who put the art in art-rock. Fecklessly glam, drugged-out and decadent, Lou Reed and company's minimalism stripped down rock excess to reveal its poetic core. Fine holiday fun. Blondie Best Of (Chrysalis) Because I'm a girl. And "Atomic" is one of the best songs ever. Howlin' Wolf Greatest Hits Vol. 1 (Chess) Of all the great blues musicians I could have put, this man, with his menacing growl and snapping piano, is my absolute favorite. Even on a rickety recording, the Wolf's sinister presence leaps out like a thief in the night. Violent Femmes (Slash) Another adolescent handbook, this time coming out of my corner of the country, the Midwest. Doesn't everyone remember singing along to "Add It Up" during roadtrips and slumber parties? Gordon Gano and crew's particularly self-immolating quasi-folk rock gave shape to a teenage fear and loathing that Top 40 could never touch. Twitching singing and semi-sadistic lyrics grasped at helplessness and anger, and utterly naked emotion only revealed how very much we hated our teenage existence. A Tribe Called Quest Low-End Theory (Jive) With the deepest bass and the most buttery raps, this album is the soundtrack to the best party you'll ever go to. Plus, its rhymes are super-intelligent and it has a good beat. PJ Harvey Rid of Me (Island) This is my post-adolescent Bible, and oh, what a scary one it is. Miss Polly Jean Harvey, in my humble opinion, marks herself as utterly genieuse with hemorrhaging, violently possessed songs of sex, love and destruction. With gasoline-soaked guitar and a faux-operatic voice, the title track's mantra, "Lick my legs, I'm on fire," became the catchphrase of 1993. The soundtrack to female rage, lust and desire, and the best thing to listen to after a bad breakup. The Pixies Surfer Rosa (4AD) Devin picked Doolittle but I pick this earlier work, with all its serrated edges and bloody seams showing. Uncompromisingly surreal and challenging, it may be less pop, but it's got more bite. Star song: "Gigantic," sung so charmingly by Kim Deal before she did that Breeders thing. Joy Division Unknown Pleasures (Factory) This is a perennial high school (and one college) boyfriend band-nearly every boy I dated in high school worshipped at the altar of Ian Curtis, whose suicide ended the reign of this post-punk institution. Hollowly industrial, nihilistic clang with Curtis's impossibly deep baritone made the despairing lyrics come alive with artistry. While the 1987 compilation Substance is a good place for neophytes to start, this album is a masterpiece. U2 The Joshua Tree (Island) The first album I passionately adored. Plus, the first rock musician I passionately adored-Larry Mullen, Jr. Tom Waits Rain Dogs (Island) With a whiskey-soaked growl and rasp, Tom Waits is the midnight poet of the lyrically disenfranchised. Set to faux-cocktail clatter, the stories and fables which mask as songs on this album take the listener to a million little places, all of which sound like they should be in an arty, urban movie. Public Enemy It Takes a Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back (Columbia) Fiercely political and rebelliously cacophonous-you can disagree with the politics but admire the urgency of the vision. Chuck D and Flavor Flav star in this document of discontent, which kicks off with brilliant "Bring the Noise." Prince Purple Rain (Warner Bros/Paisley Park) If you can listen to it five times in a row without getting sick, it's good. And I've listened to this five times in a row. Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band Safe As Milk (One Way) Barely anyone I know has even heard of Captain Beefheart, but trust me, this man is a genius, taking blues and turning it into art by some strange alchemy. Most people will cite Trout Mask Replica in a "best album" list, but since that album scared me when I was five, Safe As Milk will do with odd, bouncy blues. Wire Pink Flag (Restless Retro) "Three Girl Rhumba" sounds exactly like Elastica's "Connection." That, in a nutshell, is how Wire sounds: taut, fierce pop-punk with wit so dry it crumbles like a cracker. Beastie Boys Check Your Head (Capitol) Par-tay! Boo-tay! While any of the Beasties' albums could be on this list, this is the one that never fails to endure. Put it on endless repeat at a party, and watch your guests bump 'n grind till they drop. Combining party slams with hypnotic interludes, this is the fuel for your next soir*e. Jane's Addiction Nothing's Shocking (Warner Bros.) When Perry Farrell shrieks, "3, 4!" at the beginning of "Ocean Size," the crowd comes down and the house shakes. The ultimate pinnacle of glam rock, L.A. funk and a good dose of heavy metal, Jane's Addiction are simply cool. Aphex Twin Selected Ambient Sounds Volume II (Sire) The logical progression from classical to techno. Trust me.