Best albums of 2014 by metro Phoenix artists

Last week, we counted down the best music videos made by Valley artists in 2014. This week's roundup looks back at the year's best albums and/or EPs, from punk to hip-hop to whatever Luna Aura wants to call herself.

And this time, the list is in alphabetical order. Why? Because they're all great albums well worth tracking down. But if I had to pick a No. 1? I'd go with Diners.

Andrew Jackson Jihad, "Christmas Island"

This is, by far, the biggest deal nationally of any album on this list, released by L.A.'s SideOneDummy Records. And it came by that attention honestly, with its often hilarious, frequently cryptic, darkly existential and politically subversive folk-punk songs. The opening track takes its title from autism activist Temple Grandin with references to Stevie Wonder, Helen Keller and cutting the world in half like a more extreme King Solomon. John Congleton produced this and St. Vincent's latest album (which topped our year-end album list), so yeah, it sounds amazing, but it's more about the songs. Highlights range from the Spaghetti Western-flavored mood piece "Coffin Dance," with its oft-repeated request to "Shoot him again 'cause I can see his soul dancing," to the oddly touching, nicely orchestrated "Linda Ronstadt," in which they set the tone with "Today, I lost my s--t in a museum / It was a video installation of Linda Ronstadt."

Luna Aura, "Luna Aura"

This five-song EP sets the tone with a song called "Radio" that certainly sounds like it could find a home there, a haunting electro-pop ballad with trembling vocals that could slot in nicely between what Taylor Swift and Lorde were running up the pop charts at the moment. "Blow" takes her closer to Kid Cudi territory, with its futuristic lost-in-space atmosphere and semi-rapped lyrics from Aura. But she really hits her stride here on the final track, "Too Young to Die," for which she filmed a haunting video involving mannequins with teddy-bear heads.

Celebration Guns, "Bright Enough" EP

Their atmospheric brand of neo-psychedelic dream pop should speak to anyone who came of age with Animal Collective, even while blurring the lines between math-rock and jazz in the process in some of the trickier parts of "The Harder I Try." As complicated as the songs' arrangements get, the singing keeps it grounded, whether sighing "The harder I try, then the further you go / The closest I get's when I leave you alone" on that track or giving in to the thought that "complacency will carry it out" on the existential title track.

Cherie Cherie, "C'mon Let's Share" EP

This is classic psychedelic popcraft, setting the tone with a trance-inducing track that brings the fuzz bass like "Think For Yourself" while the drummer channels Ringo at his trippiest and dreamy female vocals do the rest. And this is all before they hit you with the lead guitar break, an atmospheric portrait in fuzz and sustain. Is "New Believer" titled "New Believer" because the melody is so close to the Monkees song, "I'm A Believer?" If so, they should get bonus points for that. And it's a great track. But they really hide their stride here on "Why Are We Hiding," the eerie psychedelic-folk gem that closes the album on a haunting note.

Diners, "Always Room"

"Wide Range," the opening track on Diners' second album, is the perfect introduction to their timeless brand of hook-intensive indie-pop, from the thwack of its Beatlesque backbeat to the jangle and chime of its wistful guitars, topped by Tyler Broderick's earnest delivery of a chorus hook that tells us, "I've been here before and I'll be here again." And those same pop sensibilities run through every track, from the yearning swoon-pop of "Hangout With You" ("All I want is to hang out with you") to the echoes of '70s soft-rock haunting "Citrus." It sounds like the sort of thing Natalie Portman's character in "Garden State" might have turned you onto if you told her, "Yeah, the Shins already changed my life. What else you got?"

Father Figures, "Steps and Processes"

These local punk-scene veterans bring their A-game to the table yet again, blowing the gate off its hinges with a track called "Crushing Eagles," a stinging slice of social commentary that finds Tom Reardon, their bass-pounding vocalist, sneering "I don't need a savior or another crusader." With Bobby Lerma on drums and JFA's Michael Cornelius on guitar, they follow through with an album that makes its way through such obvious highlights as the post-punk squall of "We the Battery," a track called "Busy Bass" that definitely lives up to its title and a truly unexpected, reinvented cover of 10CC's "I'm Not In Love" that makes it sound more like a Jam song.

Field Tripp, "Les Is Mormon"

This was the first and best of three EPs these guys released in 2014, although chances are, if you like this one, you'll enjoy all three. It starts with some helpful advice for young lovers ("It stays fresh longer when you wrap it in plastic / Savin' all your love for me") on a track that evolves from a haunting verse built on a chugging guitar and a primal dance beat to a coda driven by Dinosaur Jr-worthy fuzz guitar. On "Bloodhound," they bring the fuzz and tortured vocals like Nirvana at their thorniest. "Leave the Engine On" is a haunted noise-pop lullaby. And they sign off with an epic breakup song that underscores its wounded vocals ("Everything you say makes me blue") with funereal organ, adding noisy guitars to punctuate the melancholy mantra, "I don't want to be a drag but nothing is as fun as it used to be."

Futuristic, "Traveling Local"

Regardless of the title, "Traveling Local" effectively captures the sound of a mainstream-friendly hip-hop act who should be traveling far beyond the Valley soon enough. As Futuristic lays out his drive to succeed in the album-opening "Plan A," which shows off his heavily auto-tuned singing as well, he has no time for a Plan B -- "Every day we gonna go for Plan A." And rest assured, he says it more unprintably than that. If Plan A does work out for Futuristic, the song most likely to assist him in achieving that success on "Traveling Local" is the soulful "That Thing," which makes the most of Futuristic's vocal chops (without the Auto-Tune). It's a romantic hip-hop ballad from the LL Cool J "I Need Love" school. And the video is great, which can't hurt.

JJCnV, "Big Success Journey"

"Stomach Baby" is such a perfect introduction to the world of JJCnV, easing you into the record with an understated reading of the chorus hook, the sort of melody that always made me think of '60s girl-groups when I listened to my favorite noise-pop records. Then the band comes crashing in, and it's all muscular guitars and rolling toms as the singer demands to know, with a sneer that oozes attitude, if you ever really cared. They rarely stay in one place very long. On the second track, "Bionicle," they deliver the verses as a Patti Smith-style monologue over what feels like a bass solo. "Jet Pack" is a raucous blast of old-school punk that slips into something that sounds like the Meat Puppets cutting a country-punk ballad in an echo chamber before kicking things back into frantic punk mode. And so on. It's also the kind of record that makes you think, "I've gotta see them live," which is always a good thing.

Love Me Nots, "Sucker"

This was done by the lineup responsible for the Phoenix rockers' excellent 2006 debut, "In Black and White," and the even better followup, 2008's "Detroit." With Jay Lien pounding out the primal beats and Christina Nunez back on bass, they recorded the album in Mesa with another frequent Love Me Not, Bob Hoag, in the producer's chair. And if the end result sounds a bit like it's meant to recapture the sound and spirit of those first two records, well, it was. But their pop sensibilities have only gotten more refined since then, allowing them to set the tone with a highlight called "Don't Let Him" that filters Lien's primal garage beat, Michael Johnny Walker's fuzz-guitar riff and Nicole Laurenne's Farfisa through one sugar-coated pop hook after another. And they sign off with a moody, organ-driven ballad called "Slip Into Black."

Numb Bats, "Gentle Horror"

Emily Hobeheidar, Mo Neuharth, and Sophie Opich ease you into the gentle horror of it all with an understated 47-second shot of haunted folk-rock harmonies, "I Don't Know Why." But by the second track, they're rocking the fuzz guitars like their first taste of '60s garage-rock was hearing it filtered through Mudhoney's first couple records. Any number of the album's highlights would have sounded right at home on the underground rock scene of the '90s, from the spoken-word verses and pulsating bass groove of "Tummy So Hungry" to the eerie spy-rock flavor of "The Other Angry Woman," which ends up sounding like a female-fronted Stooges when the vocals kick in.

Playboy Manbaby, "Electric Babyman"

This album just explodes on impact, topping distorted electric guitars with the tortured yelps and howls of the great Robbie Pfeffer, whose performance here demands a spot on any self-respecting shortlist of the Valley's most distinctive vocalists. "Moldy Cannoli," the opening track, is the bombast and swagger of '70s Who as raised on punk, complete with horns and Pfeffer shredding vocal cords on "No I don't care if this is your apartment / Smells like burnt hair mixed with an Olive Garden." And that urgency spills over into every track, from the jagged post-punk groove of "Mermaid Pterodactyl," with its shouted chorus of "I don't need to listen to the voices in my head / I wanna kill the people on my television set," to the album-closing "Magic Johnson," which features some of Pfeffer's most inspired howling. They bill themselves as the Playboy Manbaby Experience here. Because that's just the kind of guys they are.

Rashenal, "Life Learner"

This local conscious rapper's second album sets the tone with a flute-driven intro that lays out several of his key philosophies, from "The only thing that stays the same is change" to "It's about learning" and "The way the world is taught / And the way the world is bought / Leaves us in a place of loss / No way to see the cost." The jazzy vibe spills over into several of the album's strongest cuts, from the sax-driven funk groove of "Cash Flow" to the haunted loops of "Story Set In Stereo," a soulful track about how the hip-hop he heard seeping through the "static snow" made him what he is today.

Scorpion Vs. Tarantula, "Claim to Fame"

The title track is exactly the sort of primitive, post-Stooges punk you'd half expect if you had seen them blow the roof off any given local dive. And so are many of this album's strongest tracks, from "Chasing Alive" to "My Baby Left Me (For the American Way)." But "Watching You Watching Me Watching You Go" takes a different approach. From the opening beat, which sounds like it was captured in an echo chamber, it swaggers like the Rolling Stones as raised on "Nuggets" instead of the way it really happened. And they've never had a more infectious pop hook for a chorus, repeating "I was watching you watching me watching you go" with all the desperation it would take to put that line (among the most inspired titles of the year) across.

Serene Dominic & the Gemseekers, "For Extreme Convenience"

In the interest of full and/or foolish disclosure, yes, he writes a weekly local-music column for us -- every week, in fact. But he'd be on here without reservation if we'd never met the man. His best work is like Elvis Costello writing his very own "Jesus of Cool." It's that smart. And that goofy. With unerring pop sensibilities smudged to hell and back by a production style that makes Nick Lowe seem kind of like a neat freak by comparison. This is a concept album set in the office, welcoming listeners to the working week with "Snoozebar/Days of Futile Tasks" before making its way through such obvious highlights as "The Girl From Analytics" and "Selfie," about a guy who was given that nickname "for the portrait he took of himself with the copy machine."