Best Albums of the 2000s: #18

#18. The Streets - Original Pirate Material (2002)

"Around here we say 'birds' not 'bitches'"

They say you should always write about what you know. That's why I choose to write about music instead of say, holding a job or dressing myself. Mike Skinner, a.k.a. The Streets, knows about drinking beer, smoking weed, going to clubs, being on the dole, and all the other petty details of being young, poor, bored and British. Listening to Original Pirate Material is like taking a walk in his shoes, only if he's only walking to the corner store for a pack of fags.

British music has a history of doing what Americans have already done, but better. Think of how The Beatles conquered American rock and roll, only to shape it in their own image and send it off in a hundred new directions. Or, a decade later, when countless bands took the punk banner from The Ramones and ran towards darker and stranger territory. The Streets made intelligent, personal and vibrant hip-hop at a time when the genre in America was entering a decade-long free fall that still hasn't hit bottom yet. To see just how wide the gap in originality is, check out "Let's Push Things Forward," a bouncy, Specials-influenced track buoyed by a jaunty upbeat rhythm and a ska-influenced bassline that grounds the song in a state that's completely its own.

"The Irony Of It All" is the album's most instantly memorable track, a debate between an alcoholic lout named Terry and a timid stoner named Tim, both of whom are played by Skinner, complete with a theme for each character - an abrasive bass-heavy beat for Terry and an airy looping piano riff for Tim. Over three and a half hilarious minutes, the two go back and forth about the merits of one's drug of choice versus the others', with Terry working himself into a drunken rage while Tim calmly picks the chicken pieces out of his pizza and plays video games all night. It's a well-stated message, pointing out the arbitrary nature of modern drug policy while never losing its sense of humor.

"The Irony Of It All" isn't quite the most fun song on the album - that honor goes to "Don't Mug Yourself," a great track that finds Skinner and his friends discussing how long he should wait before calling the girl he met the night before. The infectious rhythm and bassline make it one of those songs you can't hear without bobbing your head and moving to the beat. And that ending, when the song falls apart and everyone starts laughing, is one of the album's best moments.

If the album were nothing but jokey songs and ska-flavored upstrokes, it'd be one hell of a fun listen but probably not enough to be the 18th best album of the last eleven years. As the album progresses, Skinner works himself into a more reflective mood that peaks on his best song, the hazy and nostalgic "Weak Become Heroes." Over a looped piano that sounds like an echo of a thousand half-remembered parties, he looks back on his younger years in the UK club scene, remembering the way a roomful of strangers could feel like friends, and the way they would inevitably turn back to strangers the next morning.

The song's best moment - no, the album's best moment - comes at about 3:20, when the piano drops out for a few bars and Mike reflects on how much older he's gotten in seemingly an instant. It's a familiar feeling for anyone - even if you're like me and wouldn't go to a rave unless you were forced at gunpoint, everyone has had that moment where suddenly everything's changed and you can't put your finger or when or how it happened.

Before I'm done, we have to talk about that album cover, right? Go back up and look at that thing again. Original Pirate Material begins and ends with that imposing block of cheap apartments. (Flats?) You can easily imagine all the album's characters just out of sight in those lit up windows. The violent football fan of "Geezers Need Excitement" is plotting to cause trouble somewhere in there. The dole-squatters of "Same Old Thing" and the brokenhearted romantic of "It's Too Late" no doubt share this space too. You can even imagine Terry and Tim having their back-and-forth through the thin walls. Nothing ever changes for these characters - none of these songs are about life-changing epiphanies or high drama. Life just keeps going on the way it always does. In a decade when hip-hop traded most of its soul and nuance for dance tracks and autotune, Original Pirate Material is the genre at its most honest and conversational.