My album of the year was M.I.A.'s "Arular," for a number of reasons. First, it's a party album whose energy and imagination never flag. Second, it's utterly distinctive: Maya Arulpragasam's nursery-rhyme rapping style doesn't sound like anybody else's. Third, it's a work of art whose local specificity, namely the inner-city public housing in London where the Sri Lankan-born M.I.A. grew up, can be understood by a wider world of the dispossessed.

This last reason has nothing to do with M.I.A.'s misunderstood position as the daughter of a Tamil Tiger and everything to do with the way hip-hop has become the de facto "world music." Rap was born and bred in American neighborhoods where opportunity was scarce and pride often had to be willed. The thematic focus has always been on boasting and loyalty to one's neighborhood.

These themes were also addressed on two of the year's biggest-selling hip-hop albums, Kanye West's "Late Registration" and 50 Cent's "The Massacre," though, given the money these two artists make and the image-sculpting their music attempts, they're about as local as the WTO -- and their grasp is every bit as far reaching.