Philadelphia Weekly

Dizzee Rascal

Dizzee Rascal rules. Not because he's the chief ambassador of grime, that hybrid of jungle, hip-hop and ragga that emerged from the U.K. in the early 2000s. Not because he won Britain's top music honor, the 2003 Mercury Prize--beating out Coldplay and Radiohead--while he was still a teenager. And not because the East London MC flows like a Cockney Donald Duck on black beauties. Nope. It's because his biggest hit to date, "Fix up, Look Sharp," relies almost entirely on a sample of Billy Squier's "The Big Beat" (even more so than Run-D.M.C.'s "Here We Go"). And thus, he's helped make Squier, the greatest arena rocker of the early '80s (I'm dead serious), financially secure and obscure no more. Thanks, Dizzee! (Michael Alan Goldberg)

Jim White

After spending his life in the over- romanticized (narrative and personal) pursuit of dissolution via heartbreak, highways and hangovers, folksy songwriter Jim White trades his sad, dog-eared tales and atmospheric ache for a brighter outlook with Transnormal Skiperoo. The fourth album in a decade since his late-life musical emergence marks a change in tone and sharpening of White's already keen sensibilities. A "flatbed Ford with a scrapyard load" rattling through town symbolizes his forsaken pastime on "Diamonds to Coal," a sober, mature answer to the itinerate, self-destructive musician myth. Ranging from simmering bluesy rock to soul-soaked twang, White deepens his emotional palette in graceful, understated arrangements abetted by producer Joe Pernice. (Chris Parker)

Japanther

Japanther aren't a band. They're a gang. At least that's what band founder/provocateur Ian Vanek will tell you. They're also a pair of art-school-credentialed ex-graffiti taggers who grew up on hip-hop but have over time come to define Brooklyn's noise/punk/underground scene, incorporating rap-like samples, scratches and skits into hard-slamming drum and Casio punk songs. Think you've got 'em in a box? Consider this: Japanther spent much of 2007 working on the rock opera Dinosaur Death Dance for N.Y.C. performance space PS 122, and a good bit of 2006 composing incidental music for synchronized swimming. (Jennifer Kelly)

Hard Skin

Hard Skin are the hardest, most patriotic and Cockneyest skinhead band in Oidom. Keep a bleeding ear out for "Copper Cunt," which is the best song about why the pigs are cunts ever. It goes "Nee nah! Nee nah!/ Fucking cunt!/ Copper! Copper! Copper!/ Cunt! Cunt! Cunt!" Also look out for the classics "Oi, Not Jobs" and "A.C.A.C." ("All Coppers Are Cunts"). And "Beer and Fags" which--says bassist Fat Bob--"is about drinking and smoking and being hard." Not for soft wankers. (Steven Wells)

Erykah Badu

In Badu's AmErykah the National Anthem would be remixed with De La Soul tracks and children would pledge allegiance to the funk with tight fists raised to the sky. Our flag's stars and stripes would be replaced by a bright psychedelic pattern, a green all-seeing eye, centered, to represent Badu's vision. Holidays would include Jus' Chill Day and Old-School Hip-Hop Day, and June would be Get Your Groove on Month. Afros, dreadlocks and mohawks would be worn on the street and in the boardroom, and honey would be worth more than gold. Wouldn't it be nice? Badu's newest album New Amerykah can take you there. (Shanique Jones)

Pelican

In the world of metal, getting bombed, pounding some innocent fool and clubbing women over the head isn't as transgressive as it used to be. The current cutting edge of heavy guitar-based music lies somewhere in the province of bands like Pelican. Along with like-minded acts Isis and Neurosis, Pelican have taken all the might of metal and added the bonus of bailing out on stupid lyrics and equally stupid behavior. Instead Pelican deliver hugely powerful, slow, epic pieces of music, all without vocals, and all very satisfying. And as headphone appropriate as Pelican may be, catching them live is the way to go. (John Cramer)

Midnight Juggernauts

Midnight Juggernauts scored their big break last fall when Parisian super duo Justice scooped them up for tour, thus pushing them onto the radar of every club kid and their mother. The intergalactic Australian trio return to Philly following the release of their debut Dystopia, a record steeped in deep space symphonies, robotic drones and plenty of psychedelic funk. It's no secret that the Juggernauts wish they were the Outback's answer to Daft Punk--albeit a much watered-down version. But if you've got the patience (or better yet, a bottle of absinthe), these boys can still take you on a tripped-out joyride across the galaxy. (Carolyn Brennan)

Indian Jewelry

You may not care, but it made my day when I found out that dirgy, feedback-damaged Indian Jewelry were, in fact, the current-day descendants of NTX+Electric (and Swarm of Angels and a whole bunch of other bands). Back in 2003 I slavered over NTX's We Are the Wild Beast thusly: "Almost every track buries its hook under off-putting atonalities, skin-stripping dissonance and blinding waves of feedback. It's the kind of aggressively noise-filled wrapping that cuts your hand as you reach for the melody, yet the hooks are undeniably there." Five years later these guitar-pedal terrorists still inter radiant pop melodies under miasmic soups of distortion. Main difference: This time they've got the bloggers on board. (J.K.)