The year in culture

Hip-hop/R&B: Symmetry in Blackness
Hard to believe it was only a few years ago that Atlanta artists, producers and labels dominated urban music. Things started drying up around the time L.A. Reid's success in Atlanta bought him a job in New York, thus shuttering the city's urban-music hub, LaFace. But if that year, 2000, was the start of Atlanta's hit-making slide, 2002 was the year the bottom fell out.

Consider: If you're perusing Billboard magazine's list of the Top 100 albums of 2002, you'd be at No. 93 before you reached its first (and only) entry by an Atlanta artist released this year, Tweet's Southern Hummingbird. The five others on the chart were holdovers from 2001: Ludacris (No. 10), Usher (16), John Mayer (41), OutKast (57) and India.Arie's debut (96). And the only disc from a local label that made it -- besides Ludacris' Def Jam South/Disturbing Tha Peace release -- was So So Def's Lil Bow Wow record (also released in 2001) at No. 63.

Sure, local producers like Jazze Pha (Trick Daddy, Nappy Roots) and Teddy Bishop (Aaliyah, B2K) did well this year. Usher bloomed into a major star. And part-time Atlantan Scarface offered a surprisingly strong late-career comeback with The Fix. But all told, 2002 was the slowest year for Atlanta hip-hop and R&B in a decade. No new OutKast releases. Ludacris dissed by Pepsi. Goodie Mob hurting physically and institutionally. She'kspere's label floundered. Jermaine Dupri lacked a major release, then got a visit from the IRS repo-men.

And, of course, there was Lisa Lopes. While her tragedy brought Atlanta music-makers together in mourning, it also marked the end of an era.

Of course, what's on the charts and in the news only gives part of the picture. On the up side, a quartet of local releases suggests there's plenty of life outside the national spotlight: Joi's Star Kitty's Revenge; Cee-Lo's Cee-Lo Green and His Perfect Imperfections; India.Arie's Voyage to India; and Donnie's The Colored Section. None of them earned superstar sales or airplay. But all featured sophisticated and progressive black music that, to varying degrees, looked to the past and imagined a future beyond hip-hop posing. And that future, they're glad to prophesize, includes well-crafted songs.

India.Arie's record (the highest-profile and weakest of the bunch) is the most polished, with its adult contemporary gloss and easy elegance. But it's also the most earnest -- sometimes didactic, often cliched, but (unlike so much out there) it's full of only the best intentions.

Cee-Lo's is the most eclectic, with its extra pilings of rap, funk, jazz, blues, gospel, psychedelic soul, and even doo-wop and country. But it also provides this year's biggest shoulda-been pop hit, "Gettin' Grown."

Joi's is the wildest, with slabs of futuristic techno-pimp funk butting up against pull-no-punches soul-diva sass. But it's also the most personal, with its tribute to her deceased father and guest spot from her 4-year-old daughter.

Donnie's is the most retro, with its unabashed Stevie Wonder and Donny Hathaway liftings. But it's also the most soulful and politically conscious -- something virtually unheard of these days, and something we need now more than ever.

It may be trivia, but 2002's most notable foursome of releases creates some interesting symmetry in this most symmetrical of years. Two men and two women. A pair of one-word names, and a pair of two-word names joined typographically. One of each sex affiliated with Southeast Atlanta's homegrown Dungeon Family (Cee-Lo and Joi) and two with the more cosmopolitan scene that surrounded Midtown's Yin Yang Cafe (India.Arie and Donnie). The men are both the sons of two preachers; the women are both the daughters of a professional athlete.

What does it all mean? Maybe having parents in the spotlight made fame a less alluring goal, and their childhoods provided the values (church) and financial luxury (pro sports) to want to create art without considering commerce?

Who knows? But if symmetry works to create a sense of wholeness, then urban music in Atlanta did just fine in 2002 -- whether or not the rest of the world took note.
-- RONI SARIG

THEATER: Top 10 Plays
Madame Melville. Horizon Theatre. A Parisian educator's (the splendid Carolyn Cook) dalliance with a young American student provides an indelible lesson in culture, tenderness and joie de vivre.

2. Gypsy. Actor's Express. Cabaret crooner Libby Whittemore brings the showmanship of a showbiz veteran to this darker interpretation of the classic musical, finding the denial behind show tunes like "Everything's Coming Up Roses."

3. Proof. Alliance Theatre. Mathematical genius gives way to mental illness in Susan V. Booth's funny and sensitive staging of the Pulitzer-winning play.

4. Breath, Boom. Synchronicity Performance Group. This strikingly violent, street-level depiction of girl gangs and women's prisons works like fine journalism in immersing the audience in a far-removed culture.

5. Boy Gets Girl. Horizon Theatre. Rebecca Gilman's stalker drama strikes a balance between cosmopolitan humor, old-fashioned suspense and a dispiriting look at "the battles of the sexes."

6. Jane Eyre. Actor's Express. This thrillingly theatrical adaptation of Charlotte Bronte's gothic novel is provocative in style but faithful in spirit to the original text.

7. 43 Plays About 43 Presidents. Dad's Garage Theatre. You expect -- and get -- big laughs from this irreverent digest of the U.S. presidency, but it's the poetic, thoughtful and angry moments that prove unimpeachable.

8. Death of a Salesman. Georgia Shakespeare Festival. Arthur Miller's well-worn tragedy gets a close, insightful reading from director Vinnie Murphy and a splendid cast including Daniel May as tortured older son Biff.

9. Book of Days. Essential Theatre. Playwright Lanford Wilson's broad-canvas portrait of small-town Middle America finds corruption in every corner.

10. Atomic Summer. Theater in the Square's Alley Stage. Two religious teenagers keep house for a mid-Western bachelor farmer and his mutant cow in a droll comedy that would be at home on Garrison Keillor's Lake Woebegon.
-- CURT HOLMAN

FILM: On Location
The hidden irony behind the hit romantic comedy Sweet Home Alabama is that its idyllic Southern locales were in fact filmed in Georgia.

Georgia filmmaking experienced its best year in a decade, with film and video productions generating nearly $300 million. Among the Hollywood productions were the Mel Gibson Vietnam movie We Were Soldiers and Cuba Gooding Jr. and Beyonce Knowles' gospel music film The Fighting Temptations, due in theaters next year.

The Georgia Film, Video and Music Office of the Department of Industry, Trade and Tourism reports that in 2002 the Peach State provided the setting for nine feature films, one television feature, a dozen television episodes, more than 200 commercials and nearly 20 music videos.

Business is boffo in large part thanks to a tax incentive implemented by the general assembly Jan. 1, which offers tax breaks for film and video production supplies like cameras, film, wardrobe and the like. The Georgia film office also attributes the year's success to an increase in its marketing budget as well as the state's complement of 1,600 film technicians, which give local film crews a high level of expertise. Several of the major movie productions were repeat business, like how Robert Redford, who filmed The Legend of Bagger Vance in and around Savannah, returned to the state to film the kidnapping drama The Clearing, starring Willem Dafoe, Helen Mirren and himself.

Some of the local film productions had local origins as well. The marching band comedy Drumline was conceived and filmed here, with local music producer Dallas Austin providing the concept.

The influx of high-profile moviemaking doesn't just generate revenue for Georgia, but also permits the modest pleasure of looking for local actors in small roles. And sometimes they're not that small: Atlanta's Jen Apgar and Ted Manson make brief but vivid appearances in Sweet Home Alabama.

Of course, having Georgia host such film productions as Dumb and Dumberer: When Harry Met Lloyd, the prequel to Dumb and Dumber, may not be one of the state's proudest hours.
-- CURT HOLMAN

ARTS FUNDING: Fiscal Affairs:
Even before the dawn of the double-naught-deuce, there were tell-tale signs that 2002 would not bring much relief for Atlanta's perennially cash-strapped arts community, such as last December's surprise layoffs of 19 employees by the High Museum, typically considered a bastion of solvency. By the time word leaked out in February that the Alliance Theatre was cutting staff salaries and treating workers to a week-long unpaid furlough, the writing was already on the wall that 2002 would be a year to hunker down, to make do, to hold the line.

After all, if the financial fallout of 9-11 was hitting the Woodruff-backed titans this hard, what fate awaited smaller arts groups -- the ones with seat-of-their-pants budgets in the best of times?

While the road has been undeniably rocky, no one fell off the cart, so to speak. Although the Georgia Citizens for the Arts lobbying group folded and some organizations, including Jomandi and The Contemporary arts center, trimmed or reshuffled programming for financial reasons.

In February, some Atlanta City Council members reacted to the city's post-Campbell money crisis by trying to slash arts grants, but the Bureau of Cultural Affairs budget was eventually approved at $280,000, a token decrease.

Although the state trimmed the already-meager budget for the Georgia Council for the Arts, both Fulton County and the Metropolitan Atlanta Arts Fund -- the primary public supporters for local arts groups -- maintained their grant levels from last year.

By mid-year, the Woodruff Arts Center announced it had encountered little trouble raising a record $7.3 million with its annual campaign, at the same time two of its member organizations are undertaking major capital campaigns: $200 million for a new home for the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, and $120 million for an ambitious museum expansion.

Although many arts groups have seen a decline in attendance and charitable giving, 2002 actually held a few bright spots, such as a strong showing in July by the biennial National Black Arts Festival, which had been on life support only five years ago.

And while the ambitious First Glance Atlanta picked a disappointing year to launch its multi-venue performing arts festival, many of the participating theaters and dance groups did enjoy small spikes in ticket sales due to the extra publicity.

When the Fulton County Arts Council last month called for community help in warding off a proposed $1 million cut to next year's budget, manna from heaven poured down -- seemingly in response -- in the form of an anonymous $2.5 million gift, of which $1 million will go to small, struggling arts troupes and the rest to larger performing arts groups.

The big news, however, was -- and is -- the Atlanta Regional Arts Task Force, a dream-team committee composed of county leaders, corporate honchos, arts executives and other movers and shakers, all bound together by the bundle of energy, enthusiasm and willpower that is Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin.

When the group adjourned its final meeting Nov. 19, it had set in motion the creation of a privately funded agency to help promote Atlanta's cultural offerings, assist with arts fundraising and provide a support and networking infrastructure for arts groups.

To see if the ambitious project can make a real difference, tune in same time next year.
-- SCOTT HENRY

FILM: Sex Me Up
Sex became less a matter of the incidental in-and-out business of the groin and moved into the realm of the far more complex brain in 2002.

That new erogenous zone between the ears was treated in films as diverse as Secretary, Auto Focus and Roger Dodger, in which a war of words is waged between a jaded, misogynist ad exec (Campbell Scott) and his 16-year-old nephew (Jesse Eisenberg). Nick's unpretentious honesty is a surer aphrodisiac to Manhattan barflies than Roger's hip, cynical chatter, much as 16-year-old Oscar's (Aaron Stanford) intelligence proved music to jaded ladies' ears in the year's other underage brainy sex romp, Tadpole.

The British film Intimacy proved a harbinger of this trend when it debuted at the 2001 Sundance Film Festival. Screened in Atlanta by the Peachtree Film Society in 2002, Intimacy's story of escapist, adulterous sex had connections to both the end-of-the-road sex of 2002's Y Tu Mama Tambien and the all-consuming, destructive sex of Paul Schrader's Auto Focus.

Part of this new "thinking person's" treatment of the horizontal rhumba focused on the rich, at times swampy psychological dimension to women's sex lives. There was the sweetly sadomasochistic woman-on-bottom-and-liking-it Secretary; the complicated power games of Personal Velocity; and the darkly sadomasochistic woman-on- bottom-and-paying-the-price in The Piano Teacher. In Secretary the self-mutilating heroine Lee (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is rescued from suffocating suburban banality into a world of exquisitely refined tortures and deprivations under the thumb of reluctant "top" James Spader. Like Lee, Erika (Isabelle Huppert) is a masochist without a partner who engages in a sexually rich fantasy life in Michael Haneke's disturbing, brilliant The Piano Teacher.

But while Lee's lover becomes an accomplice to her flowering sexual expression, Erika finds damnation in expressing sexual desire in a repressive society.

Sexual expression had comparably dark and crippling results in the dramatization of "Hogan's Heroes" star Bob Crane's porn-problem in Auto Focus. Like these other sex-obsessed films, which are often more about power and obsession, Schrader's film suggests that sex can eventually not even be about sex anymore when its intoxicating, consuming powers take hold and leave a sapped, empty husk behind.
-- FELICIA FEASTER

LOCAL MUSIC: The Year's Top 5 Stories
1. Festivals duke it out. A promoter couldn't plan a big festival in town this year without a doppelganger event invading its space on the same weekend. It provided lots of choice for people who like highly concentrated concert experiences -- perhaps too many options for a city Atlanta's size.

It began in the spring, with Music Midtown. Compensating for that monster fest's continued refusal to book Ken Vandermark on one of its corporately sponsored stages, nearby art space Eyedrum threw its first Jump to the Eyedrum festival simultaneously, bringing together local free-jazz and improvisational musicians with those from New York's Jump Arts collective. That Music Midtown attracted only 500 times more people made Jump to the Eyedrum an unqualified success.

The Atlantis Music Conference brought back its annual music industry schmooze, but this year, the annual resentment it faces from local hipsters manifested itself in an alternate event. Called IG: Music Art Film, it was centered around East Atlanta and highlighted the work of independent artists not in search of a record deal.

Then, the week around Labor Day brought a flood of blues festivals to town, most notably the two spin-offs from the Harvest Moon Bluesfest, held previously at Winder roadhouse Chip's. Due to a falling-out at the venue, Harvest Moon relocated to Conyers while Chip's offered its Chip's Music Festival.

But the live-music battle that generated the most sparks took place in and around Centennial Park, between On The Bricks and Downtown Rocks. While On The Bricks set up for its second year inside the park, Downtown Rocks unveiled a second free Friday night concert series also featuring national acts, held across the street. On The Bricks protested, citing crowd control problems and sound bleed created by two concerts. The neighborhood association came out against Downtown Rocks as well, and the mayor's office denied it a permit, citing public safety concerns. But Downtown Rocks appealed, and the arbitrator ruled that city ordinances did not include safety concerns as a justification for denying event permits.

As it turned out, sound bleed was only moderately annoying on the eight weeks of simultaneous concerts, and crowd control wasn't much of a problem. Whether both shows are sustainable in the future remains to be seen.

Two other promising festivals appeared late in the year: Ladyfest South, a female-oriented music and arts gathering, and the Electric Arts Festival, organized by the newly formed Electric Arts Alliance of Atlanta. Both hope to return next year, but are currently in search of opposing events to be held at the same time.

2. a holding pattern in clubland. Having a half-dozen music venues switch hands, shut down or pop up is par for a year in any big city. But what's surprising about 2002, particularly given the economy, is how much things stayed the same.

Sure, there was some change. A couple new blues clubs opened (Raleigh's BBQ & Blues in Decatur, Blues in the Alley in Underground Atlanta), as well as an interesting jazz performance space, Le Moulin Rouge, inside the Paris On Ponce antique mart. And the Dark Horse Tavern renamed its downstairs live music space 10 High.

But two of the area's most beloved and influential clubs -- Eddie's Attic and the Star Bar -- changed owners, and patrons barely noticed. When Eddie Owen bowed out of the club business, leaving behind his first-class reputation as a patron of acoustic singer/songwriters from the Indigo Girls to John Mayer, new owner Todd Van Sickle fulfilled his vow to uphold Attic traditions (adding one new tradition: booking Van Sickle's wife, Jennifer Nettles, whenever she wants). And the guys who owned the Star Bar for 10 years sold it to Jim Stacy, Dave Parker and Gary Yoxen, who'd already been running the place and/or playing in bands there for years. While the club's country and Americana bookings, already on the wane, found a new home at Smith's Olde Bar, the Star Bar managed to retain its redneck rumpus-room vibe.

3. Local musicians shift focus: less audio, more video. While 2002 saw no new releases from two of the city most popular rappers, Ludacris and OutKast's Andre Benjamin both made multiple ventures into film. Ludacris plans a role in John Singleton's next movie, plus a voiceover appearance in the charmingly titled animated flick, Lil' Pimp. Dre, meanwhile, signed on to appear with Harrison Ford and Josh Hartnett in next year's Two Cops, and more recently unveiled plans to star with Morgan Freeman in Love Hater, for which he'll also contribute music.

Dre's also working on a solo album that's supposed to be a soundtrack to an OutKast movie, but that hasn't quite taken shape yet. Star producer Dallas Austin, however, did deliver on his long-delayed film, Drumline, which he conceived and produced. It's filmed in Atlanta, and it's actually pretty good, too.

Still, the real action for Atlanta musicians was on the small screen. Goodie Mob rapper Big Gipp went straight to video with an appearance, as himself, in Groupies. DJ Shortee (who also appeared with husband Faust in the turntablism documentary Scratch) also hit video stores with Shortee's DJ 101, her instructional tape. Ludacris was all set to pitch cola for Pepsi, until Fox News loudmouth Bill O'Reilly ratted him out as a corrupter of youth. Meanwhile, electronica maven Richard Devine did score a Nike commercial, though it aired only in Japan.

And then, of course, there was reality television. Locals made generous contributions to MTV's "Sorority Life" -- a dozen or so Atlanta acts licensed songs (for free) to serve as the soundtrack to the lives of people we couldn't care less about. And local singer Dan Gardner beat out thousands of auditioners to earn the title "Today's Superstar" on NBC's "Today" morning show. But Atlanta's proudest moment came in primetime, where locals grabbed three of the final five slots in the karaoke-on-steroids mega-hit, "American Idol." None of them won, of course, but the message was sent: When it comes to moderately talented wannabes willing to do whatever it takes for fame, count on the ATL to keep America well-stocked.

4. Local musicians go west (and other directions). Was there some sort of expansion draft this year that drew one player from each "position" away to another city? Mainstream rock act Adom took off to England to become legit Brit-poppers. Country couple Adam Wright and Shannon Tanner got engaged and packed up for Nashville to make a realistic stab at the big time. Already married DJs Eve and Motomasa defected to Vancouver. Bill Anschell, one of the city's leading jazz pianists, followed them as far as Seattle. Dorothy and Cary Lewis, of the Lanier Trio chamber group, continued the exodus to the Pacific Northwest, retiring to Portland.

Two icons in their respective genres -- rapper KRS-One and indie-rocker Eric Bachmann (of '90s faves Archers of Loaf) -- arrived in town over the last year or two, and promptly departed for the West Coast as well (KRS to L.A., Bachmann to Seattle). Latin rock act Diestra made the wise decision to try its luck in Miami, thereby single-handedly squelching our own burgeoning rock en espanol "scene." Veteran honky-tonkers Okolona lost their drummer, Osama Kheir; Detroit now leads the nation in the ultra-rare "country musicians named Osama" category. But the female indie-rock field took the biggest hit: Ultrababyfat's Shonali Bhowmik relocated to New York, and Athens twosome Orenda Fink and Maria Taylor (Little Red Rocket, Azure Ray, Now It's Overhead) hitched their wagon to college-rock's god of the prairie, Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes), moving to Omaha.

5. We lost more than our share. Frank Edwards, for decades a local institution and hallowed fixture at blues club Blind Willie's, died of a heart attack in March at age 93.

Lisa "Left-Eye" Lopes, rapper for mega-hit-making trio TLC -- and one of the city's most colorful celebrities -- died in car accident in Honduras this past April. She was 30.

Wall Street Journal journalist Danny Pearl, who lived in Atlanta in the early '90s and played violin in bands including Ottoman Empire and Wild West Picture Show, was murdered in Pakistan during the first part of the year. He was 38.

Michael Houser, guitarist for acclaimed Athens jam band Widespread Panic, died of cancer in August at age 40.

Ben Eberbaugh, guitarist for fast-rising rock act the Black Lips, was killed in a car accident in Atlanta earlier this month. He was 22.

Laura Carter, vocalist for former Athens punk bands the Bar-B-Q Killers and Jackonuts, also died this month, of asphyxiation in St. Croix, Virgin Islands, where she lived. She was 37.
-- RONI SARIG

MUSIC BIZ: 'Idol' Hands the Devil Play Things
You've heard the stories about the evil record industry. But what about the artists -- aren't they supposed to be the last line of defense in the battle against musical mediocrity? Apparently not in 2002.

That old crank Tom Petty told Rolling Stone, "Some just want to make some music, but there is a lot of greed among artists as well."

Indeed. The limousines, the Cristal, the high-priced ho's of the rock 'n' rap lifestyle have insinuated themselves at the expense of nearly everything else. The quest for fame is inexorably linked to greed, and it turns out that many musicians aren't that much different than the executives they later disparage.

Is it any wonder, then, why the contenders on "American Idol" would've so easily -- even eagerly -- signed away any scintilla of artistic control for the chance at fame? Is there any doubt that most musicians would do essentially the same thing?

Many struggling artists have learned well that a devil's deal is the only way out of the van and into the tour bus, the only route to maximum exposure. Or conversely, to victim status -- in the event that even complete sellout fails to bring stardom.

There are a lot of Enron-sized homes on MTV's "Cribs," that's for sure. The bling-bling lifestyle of folks like P. Diddy and Jermaine Dupri (before the IRS paid its visit, at least) has never been more prominent. Korn spent a reported $4 million on an album that barely went platinum. Rest assured the bulk of the money didn't go to pay for guitar strings. Guns N' Roses supposedly spent at least that much and still don't have anything to show for it. It's hard to believe the money is paying for better art -- or better commerce -- when the White Stripes come around and sell 500,000 copies of a great record that cost about $4,000 to make.

Still, 2002 could've been the year that artists shook the system apart from the inside. But potentially groundbreaking lawsuits from some heavy hitters never materialized. The Dixie Chicks' lawsuit, alleging that Sony defrauded its artists as standard business practice, went away quickly once the group's new $20 million contract came around. And remember how Courtney Love told The Los Angeles Times how she "could end up being the music industry's worst nightmare: a smart gal with a fat bank account who is unafraid to go down in flames fighting for a principle"? A few months later, she explained to Howard Stern how "lots and lots and lots of money" was key to arriving at a new understanding with her label.

But ultimately, "American Idol" best distilled the essence of Generation Greed. Beyond the snide exploitation of every loser involved was an unusually onerous contract that basically puts the musical future of every participant at the whim of the show's production company. According to a version of the contract obtained by Salon.com, "Idol" creator Simon Fuller and his company own the names, likenesses, voices and personal histories of the "Idol" finalists, "in or in connection with" the show. And this contract is career binding "forever." Are we supposed to feel sorry for musicians -- many who likely consider themselves artists -- who willfully sign a document like this?

Yes, this year some notables formed a Recording Artists Coalition, dedicated to changing the bad old ways of doing music business through lobbying. While laudable, what kind of legislation will prevent more wannabe stars from becoming sharecroppers on major-label fields? The power to control destiny still lies with the artist, pen in hand, staring down at a record contract. As "American Idol" confirms, there's an endless line of people waiting to sign.
-- JOHN DAVIDSON

FILM: Top 10 Movies -- Felicia Feaster
1. Adaptation. Unbelievably sharp and conceptually rich, this meditation on the emotional subtext to writing deftly mingles belly laughs and metaphysical aching.

2. Blue Crush. The thinking riot grrl's chick flick, there's a subversive message about female friendship and girl ambition tucked within the gnarly waves.

3. Daughter From Danang. A gripping, often heartbreaking contrast of American plenty with Third World deprivation in a story of a war baby's return to the Vietnam of her birth.

4. The Kid Stays in the Picture. A self-referentially stylish bio-picture of kinda sleazy, kinda cool, always engrossing Hollywood producer Robert Evans.

5. Y Tu Mama Tambien. A provocative film that somehow managed to inject Marxist critique and real humanity into a could-have-been-Porky's coming of age.

6. Personal Velocity. A powerful trilogy of vignettes about women who change the course of their lives in surprising ways.

7. The Piano Teacher. Austrian director Michael Haneke continues his one-man effort to give audiences an unshakeable case of the intellectual heebie-jeebies.

8. Secretary. One of the sweetest love stories of the year was about a masochistic secretary and the lawyer boss who spanks his way into her heart.

9. One-Hour Photo. An original visual style and a labyrinthine story that played catch-me-if-you-can with audience expectations came together in this telling commentary on modern alienation.

10. The Hours. A meta-melodrama suitable to the 21st century that will hopefully make audiences re-evaluate their dutiful and perpetually giving mothers.

FILM: Top 10 Movies -- Curt Holman
1. Y Tu Mama Tambien. Director Alfonso Cuaron takes a raunchy road movie plot and turns it into an erotic and melancholy meditation on desire, mortality and the class struggle in modern Mexico.

2. Spirited Away. The world's greatest living animator Hayao Miyazaki crafts a magical, utterly unpredictable coming-of-age story that proves to be an Alice in Wonderland for the 21st century.

3. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. The middle chapter of Peter Jackson's Middle-Earth trilogy is one of the most astonishing fantasy adventures ever filmed.

4. Chicago. Out of nowhere, first-time director Rob Marshall revitalizes the traditional musical, with such unlikely stars as Richard Gere and Catherine Zeta-Jones selling the hell out of the show's gleefully cynical material.

5. The Pianist. Director Roman Polanksi returns to his native Poland for this restrained yet wrenching epic of a brilliant pianist (Adrien Brody) who endures the worst of the Holocaust with stoic courage.

6. Road to Perdition. The sins of the fathers are visited on the sons in this sleekly photographed, estimable entry in America's canon of gangster films.

7. Bowling for Columbine. Guerilla filmmaker -- and NRA member -- Michael Moore's inquiry into American gun culture reveals the entrenched fears and violence that gives us itchy trigger fingers.

8. Adaptation. Screenwriter Charlie Kaufman's attempt to adapt The Orchid Thief provides not just ingenious mind games, but a deeply felt metaphor for the pursuit of passion in daily life.

9. Far From Heaven. You don't have to know the work of filmmaker Douglas Sirk to be profoundly moved by Todd Haynes' homage, a resplendently photographed look at the stifling conformity of the 1950s.

10. My Father, The Genius. Filmmaker Lucia Small so insightfully captured her complex relationship with her father, a brilliant but alienated architect, that she earned "Best Documentary" at this year's Atlanta Film Festival.

FILM:Top 10 Movies -- BERT OSBORNE online only
1. Nicholas Nickleby. Director Douglas McGrath's richly atmospheric -- and adroitly condensed -- screen version of the Victorian epic by Charles Dickens. Christopher Plummer and Jamie Bell stand out in a uniformly exceptional all-star British cast.

2. Thirteen Conversations About One Thing. An eloquent ensemble piece from writer/director Jill Sprecher about ironic twists of fate and the intersecting lives of assorted drifters and dreamers, including Matthew McConaughey and John Turturro.

3. Road to Perdition. Although very stylishly directed by Sam Mendes, this pensive drama about a '30s hitman (and father) never glamorizes its characters -- no small feat, considering they're played by Tom Hanks, Paul Newman and Jude Law.

4. The Pianist. Director Roman Polanski's haunting, highly personal remembrance of things past, set in the Jewish ghetto of Nazi-occupied Warsaw. Long a fine actor deserving of a "bigger" career, Adrien Brody delivers an unforgettable performance.

5. Storytelling. A double dose of wicked humor from director Todd Solondz. In "Fiction," Selma Blair dumps her paraplegic boyfriend for her angry college professor; in "Non-Fiction," family man John Goodman falls under the spell of his bratty son.

6. The Rules of Attraction. An energetic, inventive adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis' novel, detailing the exploits of several morally bankrupt college kids. An auspicious (if underseen) directorial debut for Roger Avary, who co-wrote Pulp Fiction.

7. Death to Smoochy. A trenchant black comedy set in the cutthroat world of children's television, directed by Danny DeVito. Robin Williams makes a typically overblown rival, alas, but Edward Norton is a hoot as that titular purple rhino.

8. 25th Hour. Norton also scores as a contemplative, prison-bound drug dealer in this character study from director Spike Lee, who shows an impressive restraint by checking his usual agenda at the door and letting the story speak for itself, simply.

9. Heaven. Forget Collateral Damage. The real cinematic casualty of 9-11 was German director Tom Tykwer's hypnotic drama about a remorseful terrorist bomber (Cate Blanchett), based on a script by the late Polish auteur Krystof Kieslowski.

10. The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys. Director Peter Care's clever and heartfelt coming-of-age story set at a Catholic boys' school -- with periodic excursions into an animated fantasy world, where the friends/superheroes wage various personal battles.

VISUAL ARTS: Top 10 Art Shows
1. Laylah Ali: Paintings on Paper. Atlanta College of Art Gallery. This renowned artist brought her disturbing, smartly rendered commentaries on the human propensity for violence to Atlanta audiences.

2. Race In Digital Space. Spelman College Museum of Art. A bold examination of race in the media via sound, video and computer art.

3. All Small. Eyedrum Art & Music Gallery. A poetic, innovative, cleverly themed exhibition that proved even enormous group shows can be smart and focused.

4. Without Sanctuary: Lynching Photography in America. Martin Luther King Jr. National Historic Site. A vital and necessary exhibition about a rarely seen piece of American history.

5. Ellie Lee Weems: Birth, Death and Life in Between. Barbara Archer Gallery. Incredibly moving images of ordinary people and an illuminating glimpse into private lives.

6. Gone Tomorrow. The Atlanta Contemporary Art Center. A cool, sophisticated examination of the ephemeral in art featuring an amazing range of thoughtful work.

7. Saturday Morning. Swan Coach House Gallery. David Isenhour's solo exhibition displayed a singularly imaginative approach to his pop culture past and showed the Swan Coach House Gallery's willingness to take fresh curatorial chances.

8. Weathering Time. The Atlanta Contemporary Art Center. Searing, heartfelt work about loss and home and family from artist Nancy Floyd.

9. Kathryn Refi. Saltworks Gallery. An ethereal, smart solo show from a rising Atlanta artist.

10. Small Deaths. Solomon Projects. Atlanta artist Joe Peragine took his explorations of loss and childhood in new, fruitful directions in this solo show.
-- FELICIA FEASTER

DANCE: Top 5 Dance Performances
1. SPIN. Zoetic Dance Ensemble with Gathering Wild et al. An intoxicating and hypnotic amalgam of mixed music, video projections and modern movement by an alliance of the Atlanta underground's most innovative artists.

2. Rhythm of the Landscape. Lelavision. Cosmic cadences and mystical melodies created on bizarre sculptural instruments through the playful dances of three Hopi clown spirits.

3. White-Haired Girl. Shanghai Ballet. One of the finest works in contemporary Chinese ballet, performed by one of the world's most revered classical ballet companies.

4. Tres partes y una pared et al. Brenda Angiel Aerial Dance Company. Though performed in circus thrill bungee-cord flight, Angiel's investigations of shape, rhythm and perspective made for one of the year's smartest shows.

5. ¡Vivir! Pasión Flamenca. The cycle of life told in the explosive thunder and sudden silences of this superb multinational, Atlanta-based flamenco group.
-- THOMAS BELL

THEATER: New Digs
There's nothing like a change of scenery to renew a group's sense of purpose, as several Atlanta theater companies learned upon moving into brand-new playhouses in 2002.

For the first time in its 24-year history, Jomandi Productions, Atlanta's oldest African-American theater company, opened a permanent theater. In October, the company inaugurated The Black Diamond, a 99-seat "black box" performing space at its offices at City Hall East. The theater's major productions will continue to be primarily staged at 14th Street Playhouse, but the new space is earmarked for rehearsals and such offbeat public events as "The Black Diamond" series of play readings. After struggling for several years, the Black Diamond will help Jomandi explore and assert its identity.

For 30-year-old Onstage Atlanta, the new space at Decatur's Suburban Plaza allows it to think big. With a 108-seat main stage as well as a 70-seat permanent home for its Abracadabra Children's Theatre, Onstage is able to offer a crowded slate of programming, including seven mainstage productions, numerous kids' shows and three of its "Musicals in Concert" series.

For Peachtree Playhouse, opening a second theater was the only way to expand: Its hit original comedy Peachtree Battle has run for well over a year and, as of this writing, is scheduled to close Aug. 3, 2003. For variety's sake, Peachtree Playhouse has opened the 139-seat Ansley Park Playhouse, beginning with a revival of The Limousine Ride, with plans to stage the 9-11 drama The Guys next spring.

The moving vans may continue rumbling in 2003. Theatrical Outfit received a $75,000 grant from the Woodruff Foundation to renovate the former Herren's restaurant space downtown. Duluth's Aurora Theatre is raising money to purchase and renovate neighboring Calvary Christian Church as its new home. And Theatre of the Stars is considering building $12 million-$14 million theater and school facility for training performers and developing plays before taking them on the road.
-- CURT HOLMAN

BLUES: It's a Woman's World
"This is a man's world," James Brown sang in the '60s.

Guess again. Last year, it was Alicia Keys' "Fallin'" -- a song strikingly similar to the Brown classic -- that won a Grammy for Song of the Year.

So it was on the Atlanta blues scene in 2002, as up-and-comers Delta Moon (with vocalist Gina Leigh), the Donna Hopkins Band and the Liz Melendez Band, to name a few, claimed gigs, fans and recognition previously reserved for all-male bands.

Delta Moon enjoyed unprecedented success this year, touring regionally from Memphis to Savannah to Tampa. The band won a competition in Charlotte, qualifying to compete in an international event in Memphis in February, and its second CD enjoys distribution as far away as Australia.

Leigh may be the featured vocalist, but Delta Moon is an ensemble effort. Slide guitarists Tom Gray (who also sings) and Mark Johnson join Leigh and the "quarter-ton" rhythm section, bassist Jon Schwenke and drummer John McKnight, infusing pre-WWII country blues and originals with funky contemporary energy and bohemian playfulness.

Hopkins, meanwhile, has built a following with a genre-busting mix of covers and convincing originals. Her band sends up everything from straight-ahead '70s rock to jazz and funk -- and does it well. A "blues thread" runs through it all, Hopkins says, and that mix will be apparent on her debut CD, due in January.

Liz Melendez plays bodacious Texas-style guitar blues and sings with passion, touring regionally in the process. Her finest hour so far came before a crowd of 15,000 in Chattanooga, where she headlined this year's Bessie Smith Strut at the Riverbend Festival, a main-stage slot typically reserved for national acts.

So how did this happen? Through plain old hard work, for one. Plus, and these and other artists are building on the efforts of those who've come before. Leigh credits local R&B/blues singer Francine Reed as an early inspiration. She recalls a night about eight years ago when she saw Reed sit in at Blind Willie's. (Reed has been busy herself, touring last summer with Lyle Lovett and playing local gigs at Blind Willie's, Chip's, Fuzzy's and elsewhere.)

Also, clubs -- whether reacting to market demand or helping to create it -- have demonstrated a willingness to book bands with talented female vocalists and/or bandleaders. After a Monday night stint at Fat Matt's, Delta Moon claimed a regular Tuesday night gig at Blind Willie's, exposing the band to a mix of convention traffic and blues-lovin' barflies. Ditto Hopkins, whose shows at Fuzzy's often take on the feel of loose, freeform jams, much to the delight of fans.

Some clubs have gone farther, specifically spotlighting women in blues. Each year, Darwin's in Marietta, owned by Kay Rowedder, devotes the month of March to female artists.

"People like that have created a safe space to be a woman fronting a blues band," Leigh says. "My experience before Delta Moon was guys in bands wanting to have their 'high school thing.' And women were not welcome."

Clearly, they are now.

"In the last two years it seems like it's really blossomed," Hopkins says. "There have been blues festivals opening up to women more and more, instead of all-male bands. And I'm really starting to get respect as a guitar player -- and that's a tough thing to do in a world of guys."
-- BRYAN POWELL

VISUAL ARTS: Fare Thee Well
Some would argue that money was the scarcest resource on the Atlanta arts scene in 2002, but the real measure of any city's cultural success are its artists and other creative entrepreneurs, many of whom retired, changed jobs or locations this year.

After 14 years as director and founder of the well-respected African-American art venue, Hammonds House, Ed Spriggs retired in July. And the Atlanta History Center lost its own valuable resource when director Rick Beard left in September to become chief operating officer of the New York Historical Society. After a memorable three years as executive director of the Atlanta Contemporary Art Center, we also saw the departure of Sam Gappmayer, who left the organization for an executive director position at Idaho's Sun Valley Center for the Arts. In addition, Linh Ho-Carter left the City Gallery at Chastain after only two years in October after a well-regarded tenure at the gallery and an array of shows spotlighting themes as diverse as graffiti and Vietnamese artists.

But the greatest losses this year were surely permanent ones, such as the tragic suicide Dec. 14 of supremely talented Atlanta-based artist Gretchen Hupfel, who succumbed to a long battle with schizophrenia at age 39. On that same day, Atlanta lost an important businessman and philanthropist, Michael C. Carlos, who contributed generously to the Emory museum bearing his name. He died of lung cancer at age 75.

The year unfortunately also saw the migration of many highly influential Atlanta artists for greener pastures, or simply a change of pace. After 22 years in Atlanta, husband and wife artists Cornel Rubino and Linda Ridings left their Virginia-Highland rental for the security of home ownership in the more economically feasible Baltimore. Like Rubino and Ridings, other artists who left the city complained about the difficulty of making a living from their art, including Michael Pittari, former editor-in-chief of Art Papers, and his wife, artist Karen Rich Beall, who both left Atlanta this year.

Pittari's move was inspired by a new job, a tenure-track position at Lebanon Valley College in Pennsylvania. Equally significant was the departure of Beall, a participant in the 2001/2002 Georgia Triennial who had exhibited widely in group shows at a variety of local and national venues and in solo shows at Solomon Projects.

The departure of any art couple like Ridings and Rubino or Beall and Pittari is a double whammy. But solo departures also stung, like the exodus of photographer Jill Larson, known for her thoughtful, poetic, large-scale images of fragile organic structures such as skin and flowers, to Pittsburgh.

And the city's conceptual art scene suffered another blow when Dan Walsh, an Atlanta College of Art instructor and successful video artist with a long track record of group and solo shows in Atlanta, moved to New York where he is now working as assistant to video artist Tony Oursler. He credits Atlanta with giving him the opportunity to show his work, though, like Pittari, he laments the limited options available locally for mid-career artists with ambitions beyond the gallery scene.
-- FELICIA FEASTER

BOOKS: Top 5 Buzz-worthy Southern Books
1. Leaving Atlanta by Tayari Jones (Warner Books). Told from the perspective of three students who watch as their classmates vanish, the book was perhaps overshadowed by The Lovely Bones, this year's blockbuster title also dealing with child abduction.

2. Boulevard by Jim Grimsley (Algonquin). One of the most titillating local titles released this year. The book follows young Newell Kerth, who immerses himself in New Orleans' steamy underground club culture, circa 1976.

3. Ecology of a Cracker Childhood by Janisse Ray (Milkweed Editions). Originally published in 2000, this memoir of an impoverished childhood got a second life this year when the Georgia Center for the Book chose it as the title for the All Georgia Reading the Same Book program.

4. My Losing Season by Pat Conroy (Doubleday). Conroy revisits The Citadel, his Charleston alma mater, for a heartbreaking recollection of his senior year basketball team's less-than-stellar season. The canonized Southern author's appearance in November at a benefit for the Margaret Mitchell House may well have been the city's most entertaining literary event all year.

5. Bombingham by Anthony Grooms (Free Press). Kennesaw State University creative writing professor begins his treatment of the Civil Rights Movement in an unlikely place: on the battlefields of Vietnam. It won this year's Lillian Smith Book Award for Fiction and draws powerful parallels between warfare, class conflict and personal loss.
-- TRAY BUTLER

FESTIVAL: The Fest of Times
An arts "festival" has no limit on how big or small it can be. One can be as far-ranging as last summer's Puppets Take Atlanta, featuring a myriad of local and visiting troupes celebrating the art of puppetry across the city. Or one can be as narrowly focused as Essential Theater's 2002 Festival of New American Plays, staging three plays in repertory at PushPush's intimate space through January.

The term "festival" holds a promise of joyous celebration and a significant scope, and two events in particular, the National Black Arts Festival and First Glance Atlanta, lived up to those meanings.

The 14-year-old National Black Arts Festival raised itself to another level in July, with executive producer Stephanie S. Hughley revitalizing the event into a crucial part of Atlanta's cultural life. Must-see attractions included Jennifer Holiday reprising her Tony Award-winning role in the rock 'n' roll musical Dreamgirls at the Fox Theatre, the High Museum's exhibit of 200 paintings in Over the Line: The Art and Life of Jacob Lawrence and Woodruff Arts Center's An Evening with Anna Deavere Smith, the renowned monologist and recurring player on "The West Wing."

Drawing an estimated 400,000 people, the event proved such a success that the next National Black Arts Festival is scheduled for July 18-27, 2003, marking the first time that the previously biannual event will have been held in successive years.

A follow-up to this fall's First Glance Atlanta has yet to be scheduled, but the inaugural celebration of new works of dance, theater and performance art was no small achievement. The Atlanta Convention & Visitors Bureau brought together more than 40 theater and dance groups to showcase original and innovative work.

Some of First Glance's productions were more "new" than others, like the first full performance of Tony-winner Arthur Kopit's The Discovery of America at Theater Emory. Other shows had already seen the light of day elsewhere. The Alliance Theatre and 7 Stages presented, respectively, the American premieres of Frame 312 and Maps of Forbidden Remembrance. Shows like Jewish Theatre of the South's Miklat and Dad's Garage's 43 Plays About 43 Presidents had their debuts elsewhere in the country. But by bringing so many performing organizations under the same umbrella, First Glance allowed big playhouses like the Alliance to lend their cachet to more obscure ones like The Process Theatre or the all-Spanish Teatro del Sol.

While the National Black Arts Festival was devoted to African-American culture and First Glance Atlanta to original performing arts, each shared a comparable excitement of Atlantans and guest artists crossing disciplines to unite for a common purpose. And we can't get enough of that.
-- CURT HOLMAN

FILM: Top 5 Worst Movies
1. Deuces Wild. Unintentionally, uproariously funny "drama" of gangs in New York.

2. A Rumor of Angels. Vanessa Redgrave suffers through grotesque schmaltz.

3. Knockaround Guys. The nail in the coffin of the Tarantino imitation trend.

4. Sweet Home Alabama. Less accurate about the South than The Country Bears.

5. Possession. Disheartening waste of a brainy book.
-- CURT HOLMAN

NIGHTLIFE: Top 5 New Nightspots
1. Frequency. Incorporating the former East Buckhead Village properties of Paradox and Wasabi Sushi, Frequency has quickly become a multi-ethnic miasma set to a hip-hop/house/Latin beat. 220 Pharr Road, Buckhead, 404-760-1975. .

2. Showbox. Taking over the seemingly most accursed address in Buckhead, Showbox was originally touted as a cutting-edge cabaret/performance art outlet, but it has found more of a niche as an upscale urban nightspot. 265 E. Paces Ferry Road, Buckhead, 404-844-7269.

3. The Korova Lounge. Otherwise known as Nomenclature Museum's basement. An intimate downtempo downstairs of milky whites, warm reds and astral blues. 44 12th St., Midtown, 404-874-6344.

4. Coyote Ugly Saloon. It was a bar. Then a movie. Then a bar. Several bars in fact, that you visit because the vibe's like being in a movie. Booze + bossy babes = totally unoriginal can't-believe-they-didn't-think-of-this-before logic. 287 E. Paces Ferry Road, Buckhead, 404-659-8459.

5. Haze Lounge. Following in the tradition of Fountainhead and Halo, though not quite up to the standard, Haze offers a deeply saturated post- industrial ambience, although not quite the "all the colors of the flame" their website proclaims. More chill than blazing, more a hip friend's living room than lounge. 40 7th St., Midtown, 404-249-8900. www.hazelounge.com
-- TONY WARE

FILM: Top 5 Best Makeovers
1. Daniel Day-Lewis as top-hatted, handlebar-mustached, knife-wielding Bill the Butcher (Gangs of New York)

2. Tom Hanks as a thin-mustached, tommygun-wielding hitman (Road to Perdition)

3. Yoda as quick-leaping, light-saber-wielding ass-kicker (Star Wars: Attack of the Clones)

4. Nicole Kidman as big-nosed, brittle, pen-wielding Virginia Woolf (The Hours)

5. Robin Williams as outwardly bland, soft-spoken psychos (Insomnia and One-Hour Photo)
-- CURT HOLMAN

FILM: Top 5 Most needed Makeovers
1. Robert De Niro, who just plays funny cops (Show Time) and funny robbers (Analyze That)

2. John C. Reilly, who just plays clueless husbands (Chicago, The Good Girl, The Hours)

3. Gwyneth Paltrow, who takes on one British accent too many (Possession)

4. Steven Soderbergh, who just makes movies that comment on other movies (Full Frontal, Solaris)

5. Julianne Moore, who just plays 1950s housewives, however brilliantly (Far From Heaven, The Hours)
-- CURT HOLMAN

WORLD MUSIC: The Threat of Foreign Sounds
Brethern, at this festive season, let us pause to give thanks to King George II and his Three White Men (Tom, Dick and Henry) for the new Department of Homeboy Security. The mission of this department is, of course, to prevent music attacks within the United States, reduce America's vulnerability to foreign music, and minimize the damage and recover from attacks that do occur.

All citizens are expected to help turn the clock back to 1948, when, as one political veteran recently observed, "If the rest of the country had followed our lead, we wouldn't have all these musical influences over all these years."

Based on recently intercepted attempts to deploy music of mass deconstruction here in the U.S., it's been determined that attacks are likely to originate from the following hot spots:

5. The Middle East. Considered especially armed (with addictive melodies) and dangerous (can incite dancing) are Talakik (Mondo Melodia) by Hakim (alias "The Lion of Egypt," on account of his ferocious rhythms) and The Rough Guide to Klezmer (World Music Network), a virtual training manual of shtetl roots and New World revival thinking.

4. Brazil. Artists from this locale have been infiltrating the American market since the early 1960s. The fine sampler Mondo Samba (Mondo Melodia) paints a vivid picture of their handiwork. Also be on the lookout for a new breed of singers that includes Mônica Salmaso; behind the deceptive innocence of her Voadeira (Blue Jackel) lie encrypted messages that speak straight to the hearts of impressionable Americans.

3. The Mediterranean. Those responsible for the cascading waves of sound on Mediterra Nostra (Candela/Tinder) may hide behind the alias Barrio Chino (meaning Chinatown), but they really hail from Spain, France, Algeria and Cuba. Like many of the operatives on Mondo Flamenco (Mondo Melodia), they are known to be heavily influenced by ancient sounds from Rajastan, India, as filtered through 500 years of Moorish history. Meanwhile, a cell of youths going by the code name "Ziroq" has surfaced in the Los Angeles area with a nuevo-flamenco release on Triloka.

2. Indian Subcontinent. Spiritual guru and sarod master Ustad Ali Akbar Khan was sighted in Atlanta last fall, and reportedly made a big impression on those who attended his public appearance. Furthermore, younger listeners are being targeted by Shabaz's self-titled album (Mondo Rhythmica), which dresses up intoxicating Pakistani Qawwali singing with dreamy dance grooves.

1. Cuba. After a half-century plus, Cuban music is still the No. 1 threat to national security. One of the founders of this offshore operation, Francisco Repilado (aka Compay Segundo), is, at 95, reputedly the oldest living musician with a contract. He is also a convicted lady-killer and should only be approached with caution. His latest manifesto, Duets (Warners Latina), reveals the true extent of his vast international reach, featuring high-profile collaborators from Algeria, Cape Verde, France and Germany. Many of the artists on Latin Groove (Putumayo) -- including Havana's slinky Sin Palabras -- also demonstrate just how infectious this music can be.

Breaking News: Mojo Radio (World Village/Harmonia Mundi) by French street theater collective Lo'Jo, is a real sleeper. There's no telling when or where this bunch of musical anarchists will strike next with their potent brew of gypsy, Arabic, African, funk, dub and circus performance.
-- JOHN C. FALSTAFF

RAP: Three Acts That Should've Changed The Genre
Minneapolis isn't the first place you'd look for a rap act stretching the limits of the genre. But that's where you'll find Atmosphere, a crew fronted by Slug (aka Sean Daly), whose music is among the most traded on the Net. Atmosphere's God Loves Ugly matches its creative beat collage with an emotionally intense sense of lyricism that brings to mind Kurt Cobain -- if he'd been raised on turntables instead of guitar.

By contrast, New Jersey's Dalek, the first rap act signed to Mike Patton's experimental Ipecac label, is decidedly left of center. In fact, you'd have to create a new prog-rap sub-genre just to categorize the group's sophomore effort, From Filthy Tongue of Gods and Griots. Favoring a deeply layered, intricately chaotic production that hearkens back to the Bomb Squad's heyday, Dalek unleashes some truly cosmic soniference. Think Hawkwind and vintage Yes crossed with an undying sense of groove and rhythm.

But one of the most interesting rap efforts of 2002 didn't come from American shores. And technically, it wasn't rap at all. The Streets' Original Pirate Material melds rap-inspired lyricism with British garage (turbulent, pulsing techno -- not fuzz-drenched guitar). While previous Brit MCs have tried and failed to win the love of their East Coast brethren (mostly because they try to imitate NYC MCs), the Streets' Mike Skinner did the only sensible thing: He retained his Brit-ness. His mixture of droll wit and East London slang, wrapped in turgidly symphonic dance beats, is a breath of fresh air within the confines of the rap idiom.
-- SPENCE D.

CD REISSUES: Whack Catalog
As any record executive worth his weight in pinky rings knows, a label's most reliable fortune resides in its back catalog. Long after the flavor of the week turns tasteless, record companies can spiff up old titles for less upfront cash than it takes to fire Mariah Carey. And the profits can be enormous. Just last month, the umpteenth repackaging of Elton John hits shipped platinum.

The major music conglomerates have divisions dedicated to this process, ensuring that no stone is left unturned when it comes to cashing in on their catalog. Although 2002 saw some worthy reissues -- from Bob Marley's Island recordings to classic sets from the Stones, X, Ramones and Elvis Costello -- the gravy train is slowing to a crawl. Even the once-mighty Rhino label has lost its horn, what with AOL's bean counters swarming up its butt and Time Warner's stock in the toilet. Rhino's needless re-releases of INXS, Foreigner and Chicago albums joined the crass holiday ka-ching of best-of collections from Fleetwood Mac, Linda Ronstadt and Paul Simon. The label's seven-disc '80s Pop Culture Box was a new low in style over content.

Universal, the most aggressive major in mining its musical history, is also running out of steam, its budget Millennium line scraping by with schlock from the likes of Extreme and Donny & Marie. How often can you repackage crusty Motown hits, and what marketing guru green-lighted that pricey Gin Blossoms' New Miserable Experience "deluxe edition"?
-- HAL HOROWITZ

THEATER: Hello, I Must Be Going
If you could come in or go out of the Atlanta theater community via a single revolving door, 2002 would have set it spinning at a dizzying pace. Just as exciting new companies have entered, worthy artists have made exits that aren't easy to shake off.

No departure proved more disappointing than when Wier Harman announced he was stepping down after less than three years as artistic director of Actor's Express. Harman replaced Express founder Chris Coleman at the helm of one of Atlanta's most provocative, groundbreaking theater companies, and with avant-garde work like the doll plays, he at times seemed ahead of his audience. Yet he also programmed such hits as last summer's Beautiful Thing, and with the first two plays of this season, Gypsy and Jane Eyre, Harman hit a creative double-header equal to Coleman in his heyday.

Atlanta companies specializing in classic theater forms suffered setbacks. Each year Soul-stice Repertory has offered robust, low-frills stagings of Shakespeare, Chekhov and the playwrights of the American canon, but the group is taking a hiatus for the 2002-03 season to focus on fundraising and development. Atlanta Lyric Theatre, which is devoted to the traditional musical, had to cancel its production of Camelot in the spring of 2002. Whole World Theatre began doing stage plays again, including Glengarry Glen Ross, then abandoned them to keep its emphasis on improv comedy.

Atlanta theater has seen an influx of edgy, young companies. Jack in the Black Box has shown a wide, wild range of interests with its first two productions, the grab bag of music and comedy mylady/malady and the emasculated Western satire The Geldings. Tal-Kasia Productions has filmmaking as its primary mission but revealed an interest in the stage with the richly theatrical Dr. Faustus. VisionQuest looks to the past and the future, developing original scripts like The Devil and Ben Jones while revisiting essential plays like Fool For Love.

Theatre OUTlanta, formerly known as the LGBT Theatre Project, became Atlanta's only theater group dedicated to work for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender audiences. Though its mission sounds serious, Theatre OUTlanta has shown its sense of humor with its productions of A Queer Carol and the British lesbian farce Trevor.

The year's most exciting news came from Kenny Leon, who went out the revolving door when he left as Alliance Theatre's artistic director, but has come back in again as founder of True Colors Theatre Company. A national black theater company, True Colors plans to stage African-American classics, producing shows in Atlanta as well as such major cities as Washington, D.C.

True Colors had its first public event, a reading of Samm-Art Williams' Brass Birds Don't Sing at the First Glance festival in October, and will be staging benefit shows at Washington's Lincoln Center Jan. 6 and at Atlanta's Rialto Center for the Performing Arts Feb. 2. When its season begins in fall 2003, no entrance will be more eagerly anticipated.
-- CURT HOLMAN

LULLABY: Making Peace With Norah
For this music writer, having a baby meant more than lifestyle adjustments. It meant wondering if I'd ever hear a live band again. I went into labor with my daughter on Christmas night 2001, and by the time Dick Clark dropped the ball on 2002 four days later, I knew my Year Without a Santa Claus would give way to my Year Without a Tabernacle.

It was only a month later that I first discovered Norah Jones. When you haven't slept in five weeks, you're covered in spit-up, and there's a colicky 1-month-old screaming in the room next to you, you don't crave the White Stripes. The soothing strains of "Don't Know Why" are just what you need.

Or so I thought.

Wherever I went in 2002, Norah Jones was there also. Publix. Target. Starbucks. Babies R Us. For a while, I was flattered. "They're playing my song," I'd think to myself. Yet, with each week that passed, Norah popped up in a few too many places. Every satellite and digital music service had programmed her on the half-hour, sandwiched between the Dixie Chicks and Kelly Clarkson, and almost every radio format in town had jumped on the bandwagon, too.

Determined not to succumb to an existence in which, among other things, watching "The Wiggles" on the Disney Channel permanently replaced watching The Woggles at the Star Bar, I began to seek refuge from Norah-dom wherever I could. On WRAS-FM, I listened to the lightweight pop of the Lucksmiths and gently "Sha Sha'd" to Ben Kweller without feeling I was losing my legitimacy as a music fan -- or as a mom. While my child napped, I engaged in euphoric "morning after" e-mail conversations with friends who'd been to hip shows the night before (Sigur Ros at the Variety Playhouse, Ryan Adams at the Tabernacle). I threw Res, Pink, Kylie and Remy Shand on the car stereo to drown out the fussiness going on in the back seat. I used Coldplay, Doves and Beth Orton as lullaby music. And if I ever had a moment alone, I slapped on the headphones and chilled out to local boys Ian Webber and Donnie.

Then I had a moment of vulnerability. One day in early December, Norah's song came on the radio. Before I had time to change the station, I glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw my little girl smiling and swaying in her car seat to "Don't Know Why."

It may have been coincidence -- or perhaps my baby daughter really did like the song. But in that instant, I finally realized that giving in doesn't always mean giving up. Being a mom is the best thing that ever happened to me, even if it means that, from now on, I'm more likely to choose Chastain's curfews over the Echo Lounge. Even if it means that, yes, I occasionally listen to Norah Jones on Star 94.
-- KRISTI YORK

MUSIC: Local Picks Faves of 2002,br> Dallas Austin: Red Hot Chili Peppers, By the Way (Warner Bros.); Missy Elliott, Under Construction (Elektra); Queens of the Stone Age, Songs for the Deaf (Interscope); Nirvana, Nirvana (DGC); Dirty Vegas, Dirty Vegas (Capitol)

Patterson Hood (Drive-By Truckers): Band: Centro-Matic; Film: Y Tu Mama Tambien; CDs: Tom Waits, Alice (Epitaph); Enon, High Society (Touch & Go); Beck, Sea Change (Geffen).

Chris Lopez (the Rock*A*Teens): CD: The Decemberists, Castaways and Cut-outs (Hush); Film: Standing in the Shadows of Motown (Artisan Entertainmant); Sitcom: "Life with Bonnie" (ABC); DVD: Pavement, Slow Century (Matador); Book: Nancy Milford, Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay (Random House).

Lil Jon: Trick Daddy, Thug Holiday (Atlantic); Pastor Troy, Universal Soldier (Universal); E-40, Grit & Grind (Jive); Jaheim, Still Ghetto (Warner Bros.); Lil Jon and Eastside Boyz, Kings of Crunk (TVT).

Angie Aparo: Flaming Lips, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (Warner Bros.); Beck, Sea Change (Geffen); Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (Nonesuch); Bruce Springsteen, The Rising (Columbia); Butch Walker, Left of Self-Centered (Arista).

Butch Walker: Phantom Planet The Guest (Epic); Flaming Lips, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (Warner Bros.); The Hives Veni Vidi Vicious (Warner Bros.); Paul Barman, Paullelujah! (Coup d'Etat); OK Go, OK Go (Capitol).

MonkeyGirls (from Greasepaint): Best album to fling poo to: Andrew W.K., I Get Wet (Universal)

... And locals pick local favorites

Jeff Calder (Swimming Pool Q's): The Sight-Seers, Now We're in the Sun (self-release)

David "Zeus" Henderson (Orange Hat): Paul Melancon, Camera Obscura (Daemon)

Katy Graves (Catfight): The Helgas, 'Till the Wheel Falls Off (self-release)

Roger Ruzow (Gold Sparkle Band): Roy Owens Jr., This Is an Illusion (self-release)

CJ Bargamian (Crybaby): Fairburn Royals, From a Window Way Above (Two Sheds); Dropsonic, Belle (54-40 or Fight)

John Simmons (Knamiproko): Pastor Troy, Universal Soldier (Universal)

FILM: Things to Avoid
1. Working as a secretary for James Spader (Secretary)

2. Having my snapshots processed by Robin Williams (One-Hour Photo)

3. Getting chased in the nude across an ice floe by guys with spears (The Fast Runner)

4. Bathing a sludge-covered stink spirit at a Japanese bathhouse (Spirited Away)

5. Attempting to sleep in Alaska (Insomnia)

6. Looking at the opening credits of 24 Hour Party People without protective eye covering

7. Belonging to a big fat Greek family while unmarried (My Big Fat Greek Wedding)

8. Trying to pick up chicks with Campbell Scott (Roger Dodger)

9. Being attacked by a clone (Star Wars: Attack of the Clones and Star Trek Nemesis)

10. Competing in rap contests in Detroit clubs (8 Mile)

11. Snorting Wasabi, give myself papercuts, flip a golf cart onto my head ... (Jackass: The Movie)
-- CURT HOLMAN

POP: Featuring Ja Rule ... Again
Music historians trace the first known recording of the human voice to Dec. 6, 1877, when Thomas Edison recorded "Mary Had A Little Lamb" on a tinfoil cylinder phonograph. The second known recording came shortly thereafter, when hip-hop vocalist Ja Rule stopped by Edison's studio to lay down a guest vocal track for the "Lil' Lamb" remix. Thus began a musical tradition that continues to this day: Ja Rule is required to be a featured collaborator on every piece of recorded audio known to man.

Like car alarms and ringing cell phones, Ja Rule's oatmeal-gargling baritone has become one of those once-disturbing sounds that we now encounter every day without a second thought. From J. Lo to Fat Joe, Ashanti to Mary J. Blige, Nas to Case, and Gilbert to Sullivan, once an artist touches the hem of Ja Rule's husky vocal garment, an instant disposable classic is born.

Like a dependable friend, Ja's voice is always there. It is our culture's oracle, prophet and social conscience. Miles Davis once said, "Don't play what's there; play what's not there." That's a cute idea, Miles, but you can't download what's not there onto your cell phone ringer, which you can do with the Ja Rule-J.Lo smash hit, "I'm Real." I think Ja Rule understands this, and that's why his is a timeless musical genius, entitled to great privilege.

Earlier this year there was a big stink about who had the rights to publish Nirvana's unreleased material. I'll tell you who should have the rights -- Ja Rule. You might ask, "Why?" And that's exactly the kind of question someone would ask. That is, someone who hates America.

'Nuff said. -- MATT HUTCHINSON

MUSIC: The Earshot 40: Local CD Honor Role
Aerial, Chasing Thoughts (Alpha Rhythms); most accomplished recording yet, almost capturing the group's explosive live/ electronic fusion. (RS)

Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, Vaughan Williams' Sea Symphony (Telarc); Spano's first ASO disc, a lush, rousing rendition. (RS)

Brute, Co-Balt (Velocette); Vic Chesnutt's quirky ditties and Widespread Panic's meaty licks, more hits than misses. (DP)

Cee-Lo, Cee-Lo Green And His Perfect Imperfections (Arista); Goodie Mob's closet freak testifies over eclectic funk/soul stew. (TW)

Donnie, The Colored Section (Giant Step); socially conscious black music steeped in history and beyond the limits of neo-soul. (RS)

DQE/Grace Braun, I'm Your Girl (Dark Beloved Cloud); one disc each contrasting Braun's minimalist rock trio and folksy material. (RS)

Dropsonic, Belle (54-40 or Fight); muscle-bound and no-frills, with classic-rock heart and indie-rock attitude. (RS)

Tinsley Ellis, Hell or High Water (Telarc); sturdy, soulful, hard-hitting blues rock with sizzling guitar and superior songs. (HH)

The Eskimos, Something Must Be Transmitted Somehow (Tell Me Later); melodic, arty, sharply rendered rock classicism with a punch. (RS)

Dodd Ferrelle, Always Almost There (self-release); honest and heartfelt Americana presented with a jangle-pop sensibility. (LS)

Peter Fletcher, Suite Compostelana, Canciones y Danzas (Cantaur); classical guitar god steps out with exquisite transcriptions and playing. (JF)

The Forty-Fives, Fight Dirty (Yep Roc); savage garage-rock rattling the rafters. (GN)

Blake Guthrie, Songs About Chicks (Freaky Boy); illuminating insights on the vicissitudes of the Decatur singles scene. (GN)

Heroes Severum, Wonderful Educated Bear (Two Sheds); angular, seering post-punk, post-emo rock with dynamic arrangements and pop sense. (RS)

Hex Error, Hex Error (self-release); coiled post-punk exploding with righteous rage. (RS)

I Almost Saw God in the Metro, I Almost Saw God in the Metro (Cracked Egg); techy post-punk with catchy, throbbing retro-futurist vision. (RS)

I Am The World Trade Center, The Tight Connection (Kindercore); charmingly unpretensious new-wave pop. (RS)

Jawz of Life, First Breath (Blue Maze); Southern verses with East Coast intensity; uplifting drawlin', not tired-ass ballin'. (TW)

Joi, Star Kitty's Revenge (Universal); freaky funk and progressive R&B from much-overlooked soul diva. (RS)

Jucifer, I Name You Destroyer (Velocette); heavy duo scrapes off some sludge for an increasingly approachable hallucinogen. (TW)

King Johnson, Hot Fish Laundry Mat (self-release); horn-flavored, fat, funky, rockin' and distinctively eclectic. (BP)

Mick Kinney, Nothing Left To Chance (Reluctant); ragtime, bossanova, folk and zydeco collide on Kinney's jukebox. (LS)

Knamiproko, Ultimum Function (lifeformproject.com); motorik basement bounce mixed with sputtering swing. (TW)

Mars Ill, Blue Collar Sessions (Ill Boogie); tuff beats, sick verses and wobbly bass at the heart of Atlanta's hip-hop underground. (TW)

Mastodon, Remission (Relapse); a roller coaster of seismic shifts, growling gallop and nimble metal dynamics. (TW)

Paul Melancon, Camera Obscura (Daemon); angelic pop, clever lyrics and a funhouse of hooky delights. (LS)

Nashville Pussy, Say Something Nasty (Artemis); more hot 'n' nasty trailer-trash sleaze rawk. (HH)

Prophetix, High Risk (Day By Day); classic new-school sound with technicolor loops and dynamic rhymes. (RS)

Seaworthy Ride (Jetset); Macha's Josh McKay goes dreamy on a lush, hypnotic side project. (HH)

Seek, Surrender (Soulestial Elements); struggle and resolution, love and life, to a shimmering soul clap. (TW)

Alvin Singleton, Somehow We Can (Tzadik); versatile composer gets release on John Zorn's exclusive avant-garde label. (RS)

Southern Bitch, Thunderbolt (Treblehook); bruised, jagged Southern grit, electrifying start to finish. (TW)

Speech, Spiritual People (Artist Direct); hip-hop meets power-pop in under-the-radar release shows has-been still quite vibrant. (RS)

TLC, 3D (Arista); surprisingly strong finale from the great modern-day girl group. (RS)

Trenchcoat Club, Hitch Your Station Wagon to a Star (Caveat Emptor); low-fi slacker anthems combine pop-craft, comedy and '90s indie revivalism. (RS)

Tutupi, Technicolor Episode (self-release); Bain Mattox's multi-hued palate of mature and literate folk pop. (LS)

Tweet, Southern Hummingbird (Elektra); sweet Southern soul jiggafied courtesy of Timbaland and Missy. (RS)

Butch Walker, Left of Self-Centered (Arista); snotty, good-natured rock from ex-Marvelous 3 honcho. (HH)

Ian Webber, BlanketCoveredMorning (New Sound Conspiracy); warm, fresh and easy -- like great pop records should be. (KY)

The Yum Yum Tree, Reverse Engines (self-release); catchy, crunchy sugar-pop confections, dipped in rich guitar pop. (LS)

FILM: Habla Espanol
Latino Chic has made significant inroads into pop culture in recent years, detected by Christina Aguilera's midriff, Ricky Martin's shimmy-shake and the rise of Latino-babeage like Salma Hayek, Jennifer Lopez and Penelope Cruz. But it was in cinema that Spanish-speaking cultures saw one of its most compelling exports, especially in the rash of provocative, disturbing, often sexually charged Mexican films released in the past several years.

Not since the enormously popular 1992 foodie export Like Water for Chocolate, which ran for 18 weeks at George Lefont's Garden Hills Cinema, has a Mexican film enjoyed the success of this year's Y Tu Mama Tambien. Its release in Mexico broke all of that country's box office records. Lefont (also of the Plaza Theater) said Y Tu Mama drew both art house and non-art house fans in a "good, solid-grossing" 12-week run and illustrated the growth in the Spanish-speaking audience in Atlanta.

Y Tu Mama director Alfonso Cuaron was an emerging director featured early on in the High Museum's Latin American Film Festival. Programmer Linda Dubler has presented the festival every fall for 17 years. This year it drew 6,100 people, making it one of the museum's most successful film series.

This year also saw Lefont's exhibition of the controversial Mexican story of a lapsed priest, The Crime of Father Amaro starring Gael Garcia Bernal, star of both Y Tu Mama and 2001's other notable Mexican hit Amores Perros. Proving the popularity of this new crop of socially conscious Mexican films, Amaro immediately surpassed Y Tu Mama Tambien's Mexican box office record. Like much of this Nuevo Wave, Amaro shares an often unpleasant truthfulness and dark glimpse into Mexican culture that made this some of the most provocative cinema of the year.

Look for Intacto and Pedro Almodovar's Talk to Her in early 2003.
-- FELICIA FEASTER

ROCK: Smells Like Fleetwood Mac
2003 is right around the corner, but on modern rock radio stations across the country, it's beginning to sound a lot like 1993. Nirvana is again in heavy rotation with a corrosive posthumous blast of guttural alienation. Pearl Jam is still slugging away with grim, earnest anthems. And Soundgarden's Chris Cornell is out to reclaim his title as the Gen-X David Coverdale, fronting the frighteningly muscular hard-rock band Audioslave (with three former members of Rage Against the Machine). In short, it looks as if the unfortunately titled "grunge" movement of 10 years past is revving up for another surly swipe at the mainstream. If you were ever a fan of Soundgarden and Nirvana, or the sinewy stomp of Screaming Trees, you'd be forgiven for taking this resurgence as a good omen, a portent of a significant shift away from what pop and rock radio have once again become.

You'd also be wrong.

Yes, the airwaves are choked with calculated boy-bands, pandering pop stars and derivative, unimaginative rock acts, just as they were in 1991 (and always have been). But whereas in the early '90s, Kurt Cobain's riff heard 'round the world lit the long-damp fuse of musical revolution, the early '00s are another matter. The House That Kurt Built is no longer the solution -- it's part of the problem. By creating an entirely new format -- "modern rock" or, currently, "new rock"--radio effortlessly contained and neutralized the threat posed by the so-called "grunge" revolution. This new format required constant infusions of new material and new acts to sustain itself. Hence the Candleboxes and Papa Roaches of the world -- part of an endless parade of acts diluting the rebellious spirit of their forebears into contrived, market-driven pabulum. Once disc jockeys began incorporating "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "Alive" into drive-time "rock blocks," it was all over but the shouting.

Which brings us to the present. Despite the fact that Nirvana and Pearl Jam are again receiving major airplay from the 99Xs of the world, they're increasingly immaterial to today's mook-rock marketplace. If anything, these recent sightings -- Nirvana's posthumous "You Know You're Right," Pearl Jam's staid Riot Act, the thundering roar of Audioslave -- are all steps backward into a comfortable past.

In Nirvana's case, it can't be helped; Cobain remains dead, and any new unearthed tracks can only serve as bittersweet reminders of what might have been. But Audioslave's retro ruckus, while immensely satisfying, echoes with squandered promise, leaning on tried-and-true metal moves. And Pearl Jam seems determined to follow the career path of onetime collaborator Neil Young, releasing a succession of high-minded and petulantly non-commercial albums, re-treading increasingly familiar ground with increasingly less enthusiasm.

By looking back instead of charging forward, these once-important acts have walled themselves inside the ghetto of the once relevant. They're the new classic rock, a tacit acknowledgment that the best days of the once-potent "alternative" movement are long behind it.

Did Cobain die only to make the world safe for Korn and Sum-41? Maybe so. But somewhere, at this moment, the next Kurt sits in the dugout, ready to hit the homer that absolves us of the sins of our Creeds, and earns his or her own radio format in the process -- the new "new rock."
-- KEVIN FOREST MOREAU

MUSIC: Best in Shows
Down from the Mountain (Jan. 27, Civic Center) -- Fast pickin', plus the chance to watch Emmylou Harris chase her dog Bonaparte across the stage, made this hoot a hoot. (TP)

Jonathan Richman/ Vic Chesnutt/Mo Tucker (Feb. 15, Variety Playhouse) -- Three legends, perfectly matched -- and all pros in the field of putting smiles on listeners' faces -- take turns entertaining. (RS)

Acid Mothers Temple (March 18, Eyedrum): Hype can blind, but the Japanese collective lived up to theirs, grooving through freakout-dotted neo-psychedelic synchronicities. (TW)

DJ Q-bert (March 22, EarthLink Live) -- A huge screen revealing his every move, Q-bert schooled the audience (including other DJs on the bill) in the true art of scratching. (OK)

The Moto-Litas (March 29, Hard Rock Cafe) -- Bassist Erin Dangar's final show was a bittersweet goodbye to days of sunny, hooky surf guitar and chirpy vocal harmonies. (LS)

Brute (April 9, Tabernacle) -- Vic Chesnutt and Widespread Panic's album release party was joyous, and one of guitarist Michael Houser's last shows. (LS)

Turner South Showcase (May 4, Music Midtown)-- Hearing Cindy Wilson's solo songs -- and members of the B-52's singing with June Carter -- brought Southern music full circle, and made my year. (GN)

Julia Fordham (July 7, Borders Midtown); Free music, midnight voice, sunny afternoon. "Concrete Love" and India.Arie's drummer. Who knew that "Ms. Manhattan Skyline" still had so much to offer? (KY)

The Hukilau (July 19-21, Echo Lounge)-- Local bands -- Johnny Knox & Hi-Test, UberEasy and the Penetrators -- giving their best in a full weekend of multi-media fun. (GN)

Kodac's Cool Corner (July 20, Defoor Center) -- Kodac Harrison's music and poetry beatnik happening featured a mesmerizing cabaret performance by Twittering Machine. (LS)

Dolly Parton (July 25, EarthLink Live) -- Dolly mixed bluegrass, country and pop in front a diverse Atlanta crowd -- hipsters, hicks and homos having a blast together. (JK)

Mr. Lif/EL-P (July 31, Echo Lounge) -- The variety wasn't surprising, but the crew's ability to keep the energy high -- during an almost four-hour marathon -- was. (TW)

American Dream (Aug. 3, The Earl) -- The epicenter and sweet climax of the ambitious IG Festival came from event co-founder David Railey's band. (LS)

The Flatlanders (Aug. 31, Variety Playhouse) -- Thirty years after forming, this trio of Texas Troubadors hit the road and rediscovered its magical interplay. (JK)

Drive-Invasion, Day Three (Sept. 2, Starlight Six) -- Lust's incredible Evel Knievel act and the Forty-Fives' high-speed set were just two of the highlights of this weird, wild, sunburnt bacchanalia. (GN)

Jazzanova (Sept. 10, eleven50) -- Two DJs from the six-man Berlin collective pulled influences from around the world, proving that the genre's called broken_beats because it breaks down barriers. (TW)

The B-52's (Sept. 13, 40 Watt Club) -- Athens' first new wave band celebrates 25 years with a flawless performance -- a celebratory homecoming, sweaty dance party and lighthearted benefit for Nuci's Space. (LS)

Sigur Ros (Nov. 6, Variety Playhouse) -- Somber and searing, plaintive and bombastic, with warm chills ascending like steam rising from the glacial beauty. (TW)

Cream Abdul Babar (Nov. 11, Echo Lounge) -- This seven-piece unit's over-the-top compulsion turned the Echo into a flaming comet hurling through space. A dynamic hybrid of hardcore, metal and psychedelia. (MF)

Cex (Nov. 18, Eyedrum) -- Crowded intimately into his "bubble," the Baltimore iMack MC emerged as one entertaining conversationalist, emphasizing the hip, not forgetting the hop. (TW)

Ned Rothenberg (Dec. 12, Eyedrum) -- A master of every instrument he picked up that evening, Rothenberg eloquently layered tone atop tone, setting the mood and the music just right. (OK)

COUNTRY: The Yin-yang of Twang
By the end of 2001, the runaway success of O Brother, Where Art Thou? had set the stage for country music's return to its traditional roots. After a decade of drifting toward pop, the rich acoustic sound of classic country was making a welcome comeback.

Along those lines, the Dixie Chicks' third album, Home, was a significant departure from previous work. All acoustic and loaded with pure country and bluegrass tunes, the CD was an instant smash, selling millions of copies. The album arose out of a legal squabble with Sony, that got as ugly as a family fight at Thanksgiving. But in the end, the Chicks got a fat bonus and their own Sony-affiliated label.

To get a sense of just how wide-ranging the country genre has become, compare the latest Dixie Chicks album to recent releases from "country divas" Faith Hill and Shania Twain. Neither Hill's Cry nor Twain's Up has a single cut that even resembles traditional country. Hill suffered backlash when she publicly admitted she was catering to a more pop audience, resulting in the less-than-stellar success of the album's first single, her version of Atlanta songwriter Angie Aparo's "Cry." Even so, Hill -- like Twain -- sold plenty of CDs out of the chute.

The 2002 output from male mainstream country artists didn't boast the same discrepancies in style -- but there was still enough controversy to make things interesting. Country music has always been considered the "voice" of the common American. So naturally, there were a number of songs that addressed the Sept. 11 tragedy.

While hardcore country stalwart (and former Newnan resident) Alan Jackson took the introspective route on his "Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)?" Oklahoma's Toby Keith externalized his feelings in the confrontational "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American)." His aggressive response to 9-11 supposedly cost him a spot on an Independence Day show on ABC. But in the end, both men were nominated for several of the same awards in the recent Country Music Academy show. Jackson won five; Keith went home empty-handed.

So what is "country music"? Whatever you want it to be. And while the major labels continue to take the safe route, independents like Audium and Dualtone release great traditional-sounding albums by the likes of Ray Price and Jim Lauderdale. But you have to dig deep to find the gems -- because you sure won't hear them on commercial country radio.
-- JAMES KELLY

VISUAL ARTS: New Spaces/ New Faces
The energy and the determination to make Atlanta's art scene grow, despite an often grim economic climate, was palpable with each gallery debut in 2002. After a significant press build-up, the inauguration of the Museum of Contemporary Art of Georgia in February was undoubtedly some of the biggest news of the year. An important champion of local artists, headed by Atlanta artist Annette Cone-Skelton, MOCA-GA began its program by spotlighting Georgia artists, but by the end of the year offered promising new directions with a provocatively themed show about race curated by Ed Spriggs and Dan Talley mixing both local and national artists.

Equally exciting was the debut of the remarkably polished, sophisticated Saltworks Gallery on Angier Avenue, a space also indebted to the vision of its enthusiastic founder, curator, wall-painter, grunt and guru, artist Brian Holcombe. Smaller spaces exploded like satellite indies, such as the architecturally interesting, innovative ArtSpot helmed by artist Ann-Marie M. Downs, which officially opened in September 2001 but really hit its stride with a series of eclectic programmed shows beginning in February 2002. Art Show, an airy, modern new venue on a bustling strip of North Highland across from Sotto Sotto also began showing a sporadic but promising roster of work by young artists in a space run by yet another artist, Jeff Surace.

Some notable changes also occurred not in new spaces, but with the expansion of pre-existing ones, as when the High Museum unveiled final plans for the 2003 groundbreaking of the new $130 million expansion of the Woodruff Arts Center designed by Italian architect and Pritzker Prize-winner Renzo Piano. It's scheduled for a spring 2005 completion. Another promising signal of new growth on the arts scene was an announcement of the site-planning stage in an $8 million collaboration between IMAGE Film & Video Center and the Atlanta Contemporary Art Center to share quarters and a projected 250-seat theater at the Contemporary's 535 Means St. location.

The Atlanta Contemporary Art Center conducted a national search for departing curator Teresa Bramlette's successor, and its board of directors wisely saw the talent closer to home and hired the Contemporary's former education director, London native Helena Reckitt, also editor of Phaidon's anthology Art and Feminism. Her vision will be a defining one for the space and has already yielded promising results in the Out There, Gone Tomorrow and Face Time exhibitions she organized. And after a regional search for Executive Director Sam Gappmayer's replacement, former Georgia Conservancy vice president of finance and administration Rob Smulian was selected as the Contemporary's new executive director beginning in August.

The staff musical chairs continued at other area art institutions in 2002. Emory University's Michael C. Carlos Museum gained a new director in August, Bonnie Speed, formerly of Dallas' Trammell and Margaret Crow Collection of Asian Art. Canadian native Charles Reeve also joined the Atlanta creative community when he replaced Michael Pittari as editor-in-chief at Art Papers magazine.
-- FELICIA FEASTER

ELECTRONICA: Laptop Les Paul ... the Rise of the G4
Before an emerging musical style can become a dominant cultural presence, it must find its signature tools of expression -- those iconographic industrial designs that come to embody an entire musical movement. For rock 'n' roll, it was the Gibson Les Paul and the Fender Telecaster, both designs of the early '50s that presaged the explosion of rock later that decade. For hip-hop, it was the now-inescapable Technics SL-1200 turntable. Created in 1972, a formative vocabulary of beats was laid on its platters just a few years later. In the following decade, Akai's immortal MPC sampler series and Roland's fabled TR-808 and TB-303 machines engendered another revolution in sequence-based hip-hop and electronic music production.

In 2002, the new ubiquitous musical instrument is not a musical instrument at all -- it's a computer: the Apple G4 Powerbook. While laptop performance has been a staple within clannish IDM circles, the pervasive influence of Apple's machines recently earned the ultimate mainstream seal of approval -- a Grammy for technical achievement, the first ever given to a computer manufacturer.

When I first saw the titanium G4 in a live musical context about a year ago, I didn't think twice about it either way. It was at an experimental, performance-art affair, and the presence of a laptop fit the evening's general scheme of novelty.

But as my exposure to "DJ Laptop" (as my friends and I identified any G4 musician) increased, I became troubled -- even hostile -- toward the new performance tool. "Did you guys check out DJ Laptop at that party last weekend?" we'd say with a smirk. "He pulled a wicked F12 segue into control-alt-delete, back into caps lock. I've never seen that done anywhere outside of Europe."

After all, this wasn't performance. Where was my ancestral musical ritual? The curing of animal hides and destruction of amplifiers? Live musicians had become indistinguishable from tax accountants, reference librarians or anyone else who sat in front of a screen all day.

But alas, in the age of universal digital mediation, I've come to recognize the G4 Powerbook as my generation's Les Paul -- the identifiable badge of the electronic performer, the must-have brand-name product around which a new musical ethic may evolve. Most importantly, its presence is an expression of the greater digital culture surrounding it.

While electronic music loves to compartmentalize itself to infinity, there is a common creative thread that runs through glitch, illbient, IDM, click-hop and any other micro-genre built on the arrangement of digital bits of information. It's a thread made of modular units and non-linear assembly, databases and hierarchies, codes and metaphors. In short, it's a creative work ethic shaped in the image of the computer itself, where cultural production is a direct expression of computer logic.

Where the sunburst Les Paul, with its incendiary finish and exotic curves, embodied the civil unrest and shifting value systems of the '60s and '70s, the sleek geometry and silver finish of the G4 is the manifestation of our cool, futuristic detachment in the 21st century -- connected to all possibilities at all times, but often with no rooted sense of a central identity. Glowing, expressionless faces obscured by flip-up monitor screens.
-- MATT HUTCHINSON

MUSIC: CL Music Scribes Top 10
Paul Barman, Paullelujah! (Coup d'Etat); "a cornucopia, a porn utopia of warm Fallopia"; social comedy and cunning linguistics as rap.

Beck, Sea Change (Geffen); Mr. Hansen waxes heartfelt and symphonic in this sweeping exercise in introspection.

Blackalicious, Blazing Arrow (Quannum/MCA); mercurial metaphors over soulful beat(s) poetry.

Bright Eyes, Lifted, or The Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground (Saddle Creek); indie rock reimagined as literate, epic Americana.

Solomon Burke, Don't Give Up On Me (Fat Possum); soul legend returns with hipster song list (Costello, Dylan, Van Morrison, Joe Henry, Nick Lowe).

Common, Electric Circus (MCA); psychedelic new-wave drone-pop hip-hop with an appropriate world-wide consciousness.

Doves, The Last Broadcast (Capitol); a kaleidoscope of vigorous anthems, dense rhythms, space-rock chime and dream-pop throb.

Interpol, Turn on the Bright Lights (Matador); twangy melancholy punctuated by punchy bass and taut vocals -- early-'80s Manchester meets NYC.

Ben Kweller, Sha Sha (ATO); fuzzy guitars, out of tune choruses -- indie pop from the heart.

Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (Nonesuch); majestic beauty, downcast ambivalence and a clear mastery of making music by the best band around.