1. Red Chamber, "Slow Soul" (from Red Chamber Brings You the Mao Sound, self-released)
2. Aleks and the Drummer, "My New Sugar Shoes" (from Aleks and the Drummer, self-released)
3. The 1900s, "When I Say Go" (from Cold and Kind, Parasol)
4. All the Creatures of the Sea, "Elephants" (from All the Creatures of the Sea, self-released)
5. Squirm Orchestra, "Minnows" (from Somersaults Inside Ourselves, self-released)
6. Chandeliers, "Mr. Electric" (from The Thrush, Obey Your Brain)
7. Bird Names, "Same Sex Sexlike Play" (from Wooden Lake Sexual Diner, Unsound)
8. Aya LaFilette, "Every Breath You Take" (from Aya LaFilette, self-released)
9. The Electric Set, "Come Out Come Out" (from Real Magic, Girlgang Records and Tapes)
10. Cave, "Drum Like Devil" (from Jamz, Permanent)
11. Lovely Little Girls, "Little Debbie Garbage Can Sugar Lips" (from Glamorous Piles and Puffy Saddlebags, Apop)
12. Mannequin Men, "Private School" (from Fresh Rot, Flameshovel)
13. Miss Alex White and the Red Orchestra, "In the Snow" (from Space and Time, In the Red)
14. White Savage, "Destroy Your Style" (from White Savage, Hozac)
15. Warhammer 48k, "Citizen Pain" (from Uber Om, Permanent)
16. Magic is Kuntmaster, "Pestilent Baby" (from Wrath, Somnimage)
17. Pillars and Tongues, "Hall of Bliss" (from Protection, self-released)
18. Blood on Tape, "nov 2" (from Blood on Tape, Softland City Cassette and CD-R Co.)
19. White/Lichens, "Stolas, or Stolos" (from White/Lichens, Holy Mountain)
20. Exploding Star Orchestra, "Cosmic Tomes Part 2" (from We Are All From Somewhere Else, Thrill Jockey)

I'm a little wary of year-end roundups. Either they reduce what you love way too much or they're inexact attempts at introducing yourself to the world. (And by "you," of course I mean "me." Obviously there are exceptions.) Still, most writing I admire runs towards what it loves, full-throttle and hatless. There's nothing worse (or more inexact) than an essay full of caveats that ends with hierarchy anyway. Plus, well, that's boring. So I'll stop mewling and write what I wish for: a roundup of moments not songs. It'd be nice to mix you these instead—especially because Chicago's a town of side projects and germination, so lots of times you have to see it to get it.

I'd start with the Thin Man, torching roses in a parking lot, then serenading them on violin. Next comes the Day-Glo lucky charm of Brilliant Pebbles' Monika Bukowska. Third would be David Diarrheah, playing in gold spandex and somebody's attic. All show long, some guy without teeth banged on the door with a knife. Then a whirlwind: that Sno-Cone summer show, in a church buzzing with cicadas and frogs fucking in a bucket: Hump-thump. Hump-thump. Mucca Pazza, wigged a wicked green for Saint Patrick's Day, poured into a sax at Malachi Ritscher's memorial service. My mix would end with the ABBA melody from Sally Timms's Christmas pantomime, which also had a goddess with chest hair, a yeti with toenail polish, and a Viking called Sven You're Smiling. Ideally we'd have a MySpace for this, make lots of money, drink milkshakes all day, and all that water.

But that's totally not possible, so here's what I heard, and liked, in Chicago 2007. Naturally, this mix runs towards my tastes, which are bleep, dark, punk, and glow, so grains of salt, please. (A truly accurate Chicago mix needs some hip-hop, and also more jazz and metal.)

I've included some vets, each edging closer to their personal jingle-jangle morning. There's the White/Lichen collaboration, Exploding Star Orchestra's nimble skip, and Mannequin Men's grimy-brilliant pell-mell ("Your heart/Is black like the fucking night . . . You went to private school"). Then there's Cave and Warhammer 48k, brought up from the basement by new store/play space/label Permanent Records. And some projects look as good as they sound: Aleks and the Drummer (two heads, fish-colored skin), Lovely Little Girls (whiteface and lace), and Red Chamber (jackets colored fire-truck and cardinal). Special candy goes to Bird Names' warbling rustle, squirrel outfits, and unreleased cover of "Teenager in Love." Others, like Aya LaFilette, the Electric Set, and Blood on Tape, just left Chicago. And Squirm Orchestra's always sent jewel cases from Indiana, all hand-sewn and stamped with birds. My mix has a special congratulatory section to those who moved for love, towards anything new, or away from the 10 a.m. beer and doughnut break (again, I knock it 'cause I've been there).

Super-bonus ringtone: in October, Dave Hofer, Punk Planet's last music reviews editor, said that you can know everything (codas, birthplace, pseudonyms) about your subject, but until you've driven five hours to play for three people, or killed an amp going upstairs, you'll never get it all. Relatedly, and finally, something else I did this year was stand on a stage without shaking. I don't know if what I said was any good, but it would've never happened without this music. So thanks, Chicago. Six loves. Now go buy the new Mahjongg record.

Mairead Case is a writer in Chicago.