As promised, here’s the first segment of my three-day series of my top 30 albums of the decade:

30. Phantom Punch (2007) — Sondre Lerche
I can’t pronounce Sondre Lerche’s name, which makes talking about this album in person kind of challenging. Nevertheless, he brings to male singer/songwriter-dom what the genre’s been lacking since Rufus Wainwright stopped making relevant music — namely, an unmatched ability to deliver diverse yet coherent albums of individually fantastic songs. While Lerche is at his strongest on this album at his slowest (with “Tragic Mirror” and “After All”), it shines throughout. Even the most gimmicky, poppy tracks on the record — the eponymous “Phantom Punch,” for instance — still manage to retain an element of what makes Sondre Lerche’s music consistently unique and compelling.

29. Attack Decay Sustain Release (2007) — Simian Mobile Disco
Talking about electro, and particularly talking about Simian Mobile Disco, too often comes couched in some absurd, Pitchfork-esque discussion of the duo’s origins, influences, and, inevitably, connection to Justice. As someone who dislikes Justice with a fiery passion, I instead choose to listen to SMD as a group that, whatever their history and qualifications, have generated one of the best dance records of the ’00s. It’s literally track after track: “Sleep Deprivation,” “Hustler,” “Hotdog,” and “System” are the album’s highest points, although it never seems to reach any kind of low. And, lest we forget, “It’s The Beat” has become nearly synonymous with pop-electro — not a feat to be lightly discarded. If I had to recommend one electro record as an introduction to the genre, it would be this. But even for an old hand, it’s hard to go without it.

28. Begin to Hope (2006) — Regina Spektor
It’s easy to hate Regina Spektor for her latest album, Far — and with good reason: it’s a complete piece of crap. But, for all the childish nonsense that is “The Calculation” and the baby-talk that she tries to pass off as a hook in “Eet,” it’s important to remember that Regina Spektor has had a pretty good run at it. If 2006 television soundtracks could be characterized by a single song, it would be “Fidelity.” If it could be two, they’d be “Fidelity” and “On the Radio.” And, considering how strong just about every other track on the album is — with the possible exception of “Lady,” which seems too much like a concerted attempt to go back to the glory days of Soviet Kitsch — you have to give her credit where it’s due.

27. La Roux (2009) — La Roux
The extent to which La Roux is a household name outside of the United States continually astounds me. Their debut’s high point, “Bulletproof,” is in a cell phone commercial that airs every ten seconds on British television. “In for the Kill” is as readily sung along to at parties at Oxford as Lady GaGa. Which is why I’m astonished that, despite the best efforts of the editors at the iTunes Music Store, this album hasn’t really taken off in the United States. Yes, it’s shamelessly poppy; but there’s something more to it. I don’t quite know what it is, but even once the hooks get stuck in your head, it’s hard not to keep coming back to this album. This needs to be a big deal on this side of the Atlantic. I really can’t stress it enough.

26. Ghosts I-IV (2008) — Nine Inch Nails
Maybe this album was penance for the godawful Year Zero, or maybe it was just Trent Reznor getting bored of screaming on every single record, but Ghosts I-IV is a staggering piece of ambient genius. We’re talking Selected Ambient Works 85-92 good. Which is why it’s a shame that, in the big scheme of Nine Inch Nails’s discography, this four-disc set (released originally as a choose-your-own-price download) goes mostly neglected. The comparisons to the last NIN album of the 90s, The Fragile, are all too obvious, but whereas The Fragile felt like an attempt to round off the legacy of Pretty Hate Machine and The Downward Spiral, this album stands on its own. And, over its nearly two hour duration, it does a damn good job.

25. Declare a New State (2006) — The Submarines
I confess, I have a weakness for sentimental lyrics layered over beeping electronica. But there’s something truly charming about The Submarines, especially in their debut album. While a big deal was made of the fact that the album represented the work of a couple going through a breakup, then getting back together, it manages to tell both sides of the breakup story without coming off as disjointed — no small feat. And while there’s a certain appeal to the duo’s second album, Honeysuckle Weeks, in the sense that it’s less goddamn depressing (there’s no resigned sigh of “ain’t no sunshine / gonna’ take away this rain,” for instance), their first work is still their strongest. Ultimately, the album’s biggest failing is that it came out after The Postal Service’s Give Up.

24. The Sunset Tree (2005) — The Mountain Goats
The Mountain Goats are depressing as hell, there’s no doubt about it. And even the most cheerful, upbeat song on this album, “This Year,” is about driving drunk, empty relationships, and having an abusive father. Actually, the entire album is, in some way or another, about having an abusive father — but that doesn’t keep it from becoming an accessible, not-at-all preachy reinvention of acoustic folk/pop. I originally discovered the album on NPR’s Weekend Edition — but make no mistake, this isn’t an album exclusively for prissy white people who read The New Yorker and shop at Whole Foods (although I suspect they have a higher propensity to like it than most people): it’s a fantastic record, leaps and bounds ahead of most of the group’s other work, and certainly one of the highest points of 2005.

23. The Reminder (2007) — Feist
It takes a lot of effort for me to remember that, no matter how overplayed “1234″ and “My Moon My Man” are, The Reminder is an incredible album. While it doesn’t have the raw power of Feist’s earlier solo albums, it feels like the culmination of her work, both on her own and in Broken Social Scene, and is a testament to how simple instrumentation, great lyrics, and a phenomenal voice can come together to make a great record. Yes, the lo-fi vocals are bullshit and gimmicky — Feist obviously has no reason to hide behind distortion — but if you can get past the static and the Sesame Street associations of “1234,” there’s little not to love about this album.

22. Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia (2000) — The Dandy Warhols
What’s left to say about The Dandy Warhols that their myriad albums haven’t already managed? For me, the band died shortly after the release of this album (with the exception of “We Used to Be Friends”), in a fulfillment of the pop-will-eat-itself mentality of Thirteen Tales, but before they went, the Dandies managed to put up a pretty good show. This album runs the gamut — from somber and just plain depressing on “Sleep” and “Godless,” to rollicking and carefree on “Horse Pills” and “Bohemian Like You” — and in that, it lives up to the promise of its name. This is early 2000s indie rock in a nutshell. And in a lot of ways, it’s the early 2000s in a nutshell, too.

21. In Ghost Colours (2008) — Cut Copy
Cut Copy secured their place on this list in 2004 with Bright Like Neon Love, which was, without a doubt, one of the best dance records to come out of this decade. Not contented with making just one genre-defining record, Cut Copy proceeded to release this masterpiece in 2008, which takes all the best elements of their previous work and crystallizes it into one neat package. The most striking element of In Ghost Colours, for me, is how it manages to take everything good about 2000s dance music and electronica, and bring it together into one album. There’s nothing groundbreaking here. But there is, without a doubt, a collection of 15 of the best electronic tracks of the decade, mixed flawlessly and presented in a way that stands up to dozens of listens — a feat most dance records can’t claim to accomplish.