1. Miranda Lambert, 'Platinum'
First thing's first, Miranda's the realest. She calls it "backyard swagger" — though that's probably longhand for "country swag" — and you can't step to it. Her fifth record is where the Pistol Annie turns into Machine Gun Miranda, with fearless attitude and effortless bawse-ness that's basically battle rap with a twang: "My disposition permeates the room when I walk in the place" is just the Southern-fried version on "Now the party didn't start 'til I walked in." She brags about Tony Lomas, Marilyn curves and driving automatic transmission. She says she likes "Old Sh!t" so instead of jacking for beats and T-Pain guest spots, she remains partial to Nineties-style quiet-verse-loud-chorus electric guitars and samples liberally like an Eighties DJ. It all results in turning Platinum into a post-modern stew: the Jane's Addiction ya-da-da-da-das of "Little Red Wagon," the Paul Simon riffs of "Priscilla," the borrowed Sly Stone title of "Babies Makin' Babies," the churn of "Something Bad" that recreates Jay Z's "99 Problems" but then adds organs, and vocal harmonies and harmonica that sounds like the Chemical Brothers. She's as good with a joke as Brad Paisley ("Gravity Is a Bitch"), as deep a storyteller as Brandy Clark ("Bathroom Sink"), and can navigate a Tom Waits-ian clown car of honks and bangs and backmasking ("Two Rings Shy," cowritten by Clark) with confidence. C.W.