Photo: MTV News

If you hate non-biodegradable Styrofoam packaging as much as I do, well, then today is like spring break, Christmas and your 21st birthday all rolled into one. It's Earth Day, the annual celebration of environmentalism, ecological awareness and, uh, recycling (or something). But, of course, you probably knew that already.

Anyway, if you're like me, you're celebrating Earth Day by churning the compost heap, grilling up seitan patties and — most importantly — recycling some old albums.

And when I say "recycling," I don't mean "using them as coasters" or "trading them in to SecondSpin.com for a copy of 'MLB '09: The Show.' " No, I'm talking about rediscovering some gems that warrant a second chance — albums that, whether it was due to the fickle nature of the scene or your evil college girlfriend stealing them from you, never really got the shine they deserved.

And since this is the final Earth Day of the decade, I've decided to focus on albums from the 2000s. So here are 10 overlooked albums that should be recycled ... and not just because music really is a renewable resource. Consider it as yet another way to think globally (and act locally), only, you know, you don't really have to do anything at all. Every one you listen to will save roughly 10,000 trees and offset your entire family's carbon footprint. Or something like that.

The Glands, S/T (2000): A swoony, spindle-legged indie album from Athens, Georgia, that plays like a tour through the town's musical history (R.E.M.'s jangle, the B-52s' bizarre party-pop, the entire Elephant 6 collective's sun-dappled retro-ism). The brainchild of singer/guitarist/songwriter Ross Shapiro, the Glands' self-titled second album laid the blueprint for the success of acts like the Shins with songs like "Mayflower" and "Livin' Was Easy," and the fact that the band has yet to release a follow-up only adds to its mystique.

Green Day, Warning (2000): After the prom anthem ("Good Riddance") and before the rebirth (American Idiot), which is to say "at the exact time when no one cared about them." Warning is the band's worst-selling album, though it's rather unjustly overlooked. Billie Joe Armstrong's writing is super strong — he really begins his blue-collar period here — and tracks like "Minority" and "Warning" proved that GD could still be plenty snotty when they wanted to.

Modest Mouse, The Moon And Antarctica (2000): The album where Modest Mouse got arty. Not as urgent as The Lonesome Crowded West or as uniting as Good News for People Who Love Bad News, the wandering Antarctica is a conceptual work of sorts, about loneliness and isolation (it's reportedly about the soul-crushing time frontman Isaac Brock spent in seemingly disparate locales like Seattle and Gainesville, Florida). Not exactly listener-friendly — the middle section of the album consists of three songs spanning 17 downward-spiraling minutes — it's where Brock began to mature as a lyricist (and a musician). Uneasy listening at its finest.

Q and Not U, No Kill No Beep Beep (2000): Jagged, art-damaged post-punk from impossibly skinny D.C. kids, this is probably the finest record Dischord released this decade. It's also probably the most overlooked, for reasons I'm not exactly clear on. Songs like "Little Sparkee" and "Y Plus White Girl" bristle with spastic energy, the kind the band would forgo on following albums (2002's Different Damage and '04's Power, both of which are plenty good too). They called it quits a few years back, which is a shame. They'll be missed.

Mewithoutyou, Catch for Us the Foxes (2002): Ignore, if possible, the rather bizarre rantings of frontman Aaron Weiss (who is sort of like a Freegan preacher, if that makes any sense) and focus on the searing guitar work on tracks like "January 1979" and "Paper Hanger," or the slow burn of "The Soviet." Actually, Weiss is really good here too, sounding very much like he's on the verge of mental collapse ... which he actually could be. Sorta Christian-core, kinda post-hardcore, Mewithoutyou have always been indefinable. And this is their most indefinable album. It's also their finest.

Brand New, Deja Entendu (2003): Sure, kids in the scene (whatever that is) can claim this one, but can you? Probably not ... though you probably should. Originally intended as a sort of commentary on the state of modern rock, Deja has become a landmark album of so-called "emo-punk" (even though it's nothing of the sort), thanks to songs like "Sic Transit Gloria ... Glory Fades" and "I Will Play My Game Beneath the Spin Light," both of which sound like they could be part of a Fall Out Boy set list today. If you want to trace the evolution of punk from Refused's The Shape of Punk to Come to FOB's From Under the Cork Tree, this is your middle stop.

The Fiery Furnaces, Blueberry Boat (2004): A highly conceptual, overlapping work of art-rock (and art-wonk), Boat confounded pretty much everyone who had buzzed about the Furnaces' debut, Gallowsbird's Bark, though it remains one of the decade's greatest accomplishments. Featuring more than 20 instruments, songs that stretch to 10 minutes and lyrical mentions of Damascus and the 1917 World Series, it's an album that deserves to be heard. And debated. And probably misunderstood.

... And You Will Know Us by the Trail Of Dead, Worlds Apart (2005): A total and complete disaster of an album, one that effectively destroyed all the good will Trail of Dead had built with 2002's monumental Source Tags & Codes. The epic World's Apart is a testament to ego and excess, full of chanting choirs, screaming eagles and violin workouts. It also happens to feature thunderous guitars and drums, not to mention one of the greatest album intros of the decade. TOD deserved better than the backlash they got for this.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!, Some Loud Thunder (2007): Hey, speaking of backlash, this is maybe the most backlashiest album released this decade. From the self-release to the production to the shrillness of "Satan Said Dance," CYHSY went for broke on Thunder, and, well, it broke them. Given a few years, I've grown to appreciate this one, if not for the sheer amount of risks the band took, but for the really great second half, highlighted by songs like "Yankee Go Home" and "Underwater (You and Me)."

Panic at the Disco, Pretty. Odd. (2008): I have a love/hate relationship with this band and this album (and I've written plenty about them/it that falls under either category), but I will just say two things: 1) A year after its release, I still listen to P.O. regularly; and 2) Give this one a decade ... we could have another Pinkerton on our hands.

Questions? Concerns? Hit me up at BTTS@MTVStaff.com.

• Green Day
• Modest Mouse
• Panic at the Disco
• Brand New
• Mewithoutyou

M.I.A., Haley Williams of Paramore and Rihanna
Photo: XL/ Gregg Delman/ Amy V. Cooper

Like most of the media world, we here at MTV News obsess and argue relentlessly over our year-end top 10s. This year, we thought we'd share them! Our staff top 10s will be rolling out all this week, along with several less conventional lists we've come up with, like couples, hot messes, arrests, hip-hop phrases and much more. Enjoy, and share your own top 10s in You Tell Us!

10. Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend"
She announced her new album via a MySpace bulletin riddled with more spelling and grammatical errors than a fourth-grade book report. She posed "topless" on the cover of Blender beneath the headline "Hell Yeah, I'm Hot!" She recorded her first single in seven different languages for maximum commercial impact. And there is roughly an 85 percent chance she ripped off this song from a bunch of guys who wrote the theme song to "Revenge of the Nerds."

9. The Killers' "Read My Mind"
They spent much of 2007 recoiling from everything frontman Brandon Flowers said in 2006, but still found time to film nonsensical music videos in Japan, cover Joy Division and duet with Lou Reed, all while continuing to dress like blackjack dealers on a riverboat casino. Truly an accomplished 12 months.

8. Paramore's "Misery Business"
They are bizarrely unwilling to talk about the label machinations that aided in their ascent from middling midday Warped Tour act to mall-punk's next great hope, yet more than happy to take full advantage of said machinations (see the just-released Music Video Interactive version of their Riot! album). Also, they all wear ties too often.

The Best Of 2007 The Top Albums: MTV News Staffers Pick Their Top 10 Albums The Biggest Arrests: Paris Hilton, T.I. And More Had An Arrest-Ing 2007 The Hottest Couples: 50 Cent And Ciara And More Smoking-Hot Couples For the rest of MTV News' year-end top 10s, check out our Best of 2007 page, where you'll find the hottest hip-hop, catchiest singles and more.

7. Rilo Kiley's "Silver Lining"
The band decided that the best way to capitalize on the breakup of frontwoman Jenny Lewis and guitarist Blake Sennett was to record a modern-day version of the ultimate breakup album: Fleetwood Mac's Rumours — only with a song featuring Lewis singing en Español. The group also released an unnecessarily long (and unnecessarily "gritty") video for first single "The Moneymaker," complete with confessional interviews with porn stars and the band playing in an adult-video shop.

6. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's "Goodbye to Mother and the Cove"
They joined forces with Flaming Lips producer Dave Fridmann for this year's Some Loud Thunder, an album that garnered so much praise for being self-released, most forgot to notice that it wasn't very good at all. Not only are they perhaps the most pretentious band of '07, they're also one of the most annoying too. (Seriously, listening to a song like "Satan Said Dance" on repeat is like audio waterboarding.)

5. M.I.A.'s "Paper Planes"
It's entirely possible that she is the most important artist of the late 2000s: the musical embodiment of the cross-cultural, ADD-inflicted, increasingly shrinking, incredibly unstable era in which we live. It's also entirely possible that she's been riding the coattails of her well-connected celebrity friends (like actor Jude Law, producer/DJ Diplo and former Elastica frontwoman Justine Frischmann) this whole time, and we just haven't figured it out yet.

4. Rihanna's "Umbrella"
Following in the long and storied tradition of post-2K pop tarts like Britney and Christina, she released her "Aren't I sexy?" album, Good Girl Gone Bad, on the heels of her 19th birthday. She spent much of the year bumping and grinding in leather corsets with all the conviction of a day-shift stripper in Wisconsin. She often appeared dazed and confused in public, only lending credence to the school of thought that she has no idea where she is at any given moment.

3. Kanye West's "Stronger"
He could have held 50 Cent to his promised retirement when Graduation outsold Curtis to take the #1 spot on the Billboard albums chart, but he didn't, dooming us to another decade of lunk-headed rhymes and "candy-as-reproductive-organs" metaphors. Plus, he spent six months walking around in clunky white shutter shades, and launched a blog that allowed him to pimp his favorite clothing designers and automobile manufacturers. And he threw a tantrum backstage at the VMAs in which he vowed never to return to MTV. Somehow, we're still standing.

2. Britney Spears' "Piece of Me"
What does a piece of Britney smell like? I sort of imagine something like Cheetos and Marlboro Lights. Or shattered dreams and unfulfilled promises. Or an overturned tanker truck on the interstate. She's totally back, y'all!

1. Black Kids' "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You"
Up until about a month ago, I was convinced that they weren't even a real band. Now I can't get this song out of my head. They win.

• Britney Spears
• Rihanna
• Avril Lavigne
• Kanye West
• The Killers

Lupe Fiasco
Photo: MTV News

• Lupe Fiasco
• Ben Harper
• Amy Winehouse
• Juliette & the Licks
• Kings Of Leon

The Arcade Fire's Régine Chassagne
Photo: Jim Dyson/ Getty Images

On The Record: The (Sorta) Sophomore Slump

Remember the Arcade Fire? Buncha Canadians ... liked John Kennedy Toole, one of 'em poo'ed clouds or something like that.

How about Bloc Party? Not the Dave Chappelle flick — the British band. Had a drummer with a collapsible lung, opened for Panic! at the Disco a while back (then bailed after a couple of gigs, reportedly due to that collapsible lung). They ruled!

This is not some conversation lifted from the snobby ILX message board in the year 2014 (provided both ILX and message boards still exist in 2014 — maybe by then we'll all be sharing our longwinded diatribes about the Boredoms via mental telepathy). It's the kind of thing that goes on in my head at 3:43 p.m. on a Saturday while sitting in McCarren Park — deep in the hipster epicenter of Brooklyn, New York — watching a buncha bearded dudes play kickball. Ah, the Williamsburg Weekend ...

But getting back to the fast-fading flavors of the month mentioned above, it's not exactly breaking news that we live in an era of, well, breaking news: a time of decreased attention spans and increased ways of consuming information. And in that era, the concept of "fame" has been morphed and stretched into ... well, who knows what (see: Hilton, Paris; Hilton, Perez). And perhaps nowhere is that more apparent than in the ever-crowded and tumultuous blogosphere, where, through endless hyperbole and a steady stream of blurry photos, kings are crowned — then subsequently dethroned — quicker than a Shane Douglas IC title reign.

Of course, no one seemed to notice this in the heady days of 2004-2005, when both the Arcade Fire and Bloc Party — plus acts like the Arctic Monkeys and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah — rode waves of "blog buzz" into the mainstream. Back then, the quick-to-pick foibles of the hype machine were lauded as revolutionary, and authors of blogs from here to Helsinki were being touted as tastemakers. Composing breathless odes to undiscovered bands became less of a hobby and more of an honest-to-goodness job (you could get paid for sitting around in your underwear and writing about the Hong Kong!) — a job that thousands were interested in landing. And shouting the loudest was the easiest way to be heard through the crowds.

But then, something rather unfortunate happened: All those "next big things" turned out to be nothing more than, well ... bands. They toured, did interviews, landed some high-profile gigs. And then, perhaps reacting to the fast-tracked success they were afforded, they all got back to doing what bands do: making their follow-up records. And suddenly, none of them really seemed to matter much any more.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's Some Loud Thunder bowed in January, and has, to date, sold less than one-third of what their self-titled debut did — and has garnered thoroughly middling reviews, to boot. Bloc Party's sophomore album, A Weekend in the City, followed in February — though, to be honest, I had to Wiki that — and has all but disappeared from the cultural zeitgeist (as has the band, save frontman Kele Okereke's ever-entertaining, grammatically enlightened feud with Oasis). Most notably, the Arcade Fire's Neon Bible hit shelves in March, and though it debuted at #2 on the Billboard albums chart, it's quickly begun to drop down the charts and hasn't had nearly the, er, "life-affirming" effect that Funeral did (read: these guys no longer care).

And on Tuesday, the Arctic Monkeys' second album, Favourite Worst Nightmare, dropped, and though it's still early, I'll go out on a limb and say that it's not gonna have the same Stateside impact that Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not did. Call it a hunch.

Of course, this phenomenon is in no way the fault of the artists. They did what good bands are supposed to do: release interesting sophomore albums that were stylistic departures from their debuts (some of them, like Weekend and Nightmare, are arguably even better than their predecessors).

It's just that the hype machine worked so well that nothing they did could possibly live up to the expectations. Everyone associated in the process was looking for a brilliant follow-up along the lines of Paul's Boutique or The Bends, and what they got was a series of Second Comings: perfectly serviceable — though certainly not world-changing — albums.

And there's nothing necessarily wrong with that. After all, the sophomore album has been the bane of the music industry. What's troubling is that, in our rush to the next big thing, we tend to be too dismissive, too close-minded. We miss too much. And though you get the feeling that most bands welcome the return to (relative) obscurity, it's certainly a bummer to see a lot of really good albums go unloved.

It's both frustrating and comical to see the wheels of the hype machine keep spinning, but we're living in an era when careers are measured in months, not years, when success is measured not just in sales but cyber-picas. And it doesn't look like that's gonna change anytime soon. So you're left with two options: You can rage against the machine ... or you can hype the New Young Pony Club. The choice is yours.

B-Sides: Other Stories I'm Following This Week

This is exactly the kind of insightful, socially responsible political commentary I'd expect from a guy who spells his first name Deryck: "Sum 41 Kill President In New Song — Deryck Whibley Says It's 'A Metaphor'."

My Chemical Romance bassist ties the knot. Millions of MCR fans "OMG!" and "WTF?" in unison: "My Chemical Romance's Mikey Way Gets Married, Takes Break From Band."

Chris Cornell covers Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" on his new solo album with predictably hilarious and horrifying results: "Chris Cornell Ready To Carry On As Solo Artist: 'I'm Best In My Own World.' "

Lists Are Lazy: A Hastily Assembled Collection Of "15-Minutes-Till-Deadline" Musings

A few weeks back, news broke (and I use that term rather loosely) that Swedish popsters Rednex were auctioning themselves off on eBay for the low, low price of $1.5 million dollars. Amazingly, they didn't find a buyer. But that hasn't stopped them from posting the auction again. (It ends on Friday, in case you are trying to get your funds in order.) Initially, I thought about bidding, but after realizing that I was a few bucks short (1,499,873 of them, to be exact) I decided to look elsewhere for a cleaning service. But upon discovering that the auction was still going on, I got to thinking: If I did own some of today's rock acts, how would I put them to work for me? Here's a partial list of what I came up with:

Panic! at the Disco: Responsible for organizing my vast menagerie of gauzy blouses and newsboy caps, procuring circus-themed entertainment for any and all soirées.

TV on the Radio: Officially in charge of updating my blog and going completely ballistic over seemingly inconsequential issues (Dave Sitek is particularly adept at this).

White Stripes: Duties to include color-coordination, updating and drafting my various numerological charts, periodic throttling of the Von Bondies' Jason Stollsteimer. Member-specific: Jack to convert all my MP3s into sufficiently retro phonograph form; Meg to giggle slightly, stare vacantly into the distance.

Björk: Continue to rival Manny Ramirez for the title of "Most certifiably nuts person I spend an inordinate amount of time IMing friends about"; assembling and training the army of robed, effervescent background singers that I got on loan from the Polyphonic Spree.

Deftones: Breaking in my collection of massive boardshorts and tube socks; delivering my long-awaited-yet-ultimately-disappointing new album (this will happen every four to five years).

Questions? Concerns? Quick and easy quiche recipes? Hit me at BTTS@mtvstaff.com.

• Arcade Fire
• Arctic Monkeys
• Bloc Party
• Clap Your Hands Say Yeah