Our 2009 coverage concludes this week with the best tracks and albums of the year. Here's what we have coming up:

Wednesday: Albums, Honorable Mention - 25 excellent records that didn't make our Top 50
Thursday: Top 50 Albums of 2009, #50-#26
Friday: Top 50 Albums of 2009, #25-#1

Today, we're counting down our favorite tracks of the year. As we've been doing for a while now, the pool of eligible tracks goes beyond singles. Basically any song released or covered in 2009 was fair game for this list; in one case, a song that squeaked onto the lower end of the list last year when it circulated as a single made an even bigger impact this year as part of an album, so that track was again open for consideration.

To hear the tracks, be sure to check out our Spotify playlist.

As ever, thanks for reading Pitchfork this year. OK, here we go...

100. Darkstar
"Aidy's Girl's a Computer"
[Hyperdub]

Only a label that has released records by Kode9 and Zomby under the banner of "dance" could consider "Aidy's Girl Is a Computer"'s bob-and-weave a fitting tempo for movement. Its title wants to take literally the shrinking gap between human and computer interaction, and the track's winning, fractal vocal samples do their best to make some sense of the concept. But this is also one of the most tonally interesting electronic tracks of the year. The pitter-patter melody-- a marimba, a wooden xylophone, or just exquisitely manipulated digital tones-- carries the song as a stream of distorted keys run underneath. It sounds like a jocular, urbane cousin to one of Boards of Canada's fireside jams. Would that all significant others prove so rewarding. --Andrew Gaerig

99. Julianna Barwick
"Bode"
[eMusic Selects]

Call it the Sufjan Stevens factor but independent music consumers softened their stance on faith this decade, so long as it was packaged pretty and subtle. In "Bode", Julianna Barwick offers that package without pandering or compromising. A Louisiana transplant to New York, she paints spiritual yearning with such loose brushstrokes-- her own vocals looped and layered to lyrical inscrutability, soaring yet ecumenical electronic tones-- the most devout unbeliever risks no crisis of conscience wallowing in its loveliness. Make no mistake, "Bode" has the modal chant of medieval monks and ecstatic rhythms of Sacred Harp in its soul, and as its name implies, the song's an omen. Instead of announcing imminent end-of-days, however, "Bode" declares the good news. --Amy Granzin

98. Future of the Left
"Arming Eritrea"
[4AD]

Pity poor Rick, the subject of Andrew Falkous' mysterious rage in "Arming Eritrea". Did anyone suffer a more brutal browbeating in all of pop music in 2009? Each line of the verses begins with Falkous screaming "C'mon RICK!" with an intensity that is at once maniacal and hilarious. Who is Rick? Why does he deserve severe contempt? Though Rick's literal or metaphorical connection to Eritrea is unclear, the root of Falkous' fury is obvious and universal: He cannot stand this man's condescension, and must insist that he is an adult. Though berating one's enemies is not typically a hallmark of maturity, the song expresses an exasperated disgust that is bitterly familiar to anyone who has ever felt a bit too old to be treated like an idiot kid. The details don't really matter here, because we've all had to deal with a Rick at some point or another, if not every day of our lives. So, actually, you know what? Fuck Rick. He totally had this coming. --Matthew Perpetua

97. The Smith Westerns
"Be My Girl"
[Hozac]

The Smith Westerns aren't shy about borrowing from their heroes, and with "Be My Girl" they aren't afraid to compete with them. Whether it's the lurching half-drunk rhythm of the verses, the strings and echoing drum hits of the chorus, or the fuzz nicked from contemporary lo-fi acts, they seem hellbent on squeezing onto record shelves somewhere between "Seeds" and "T. Rex". The band sighs amiably at first, seemingly content to float by on languid jangle and good vibes. But the way the whole track swells on the chorus, it's as if they think they can overwhelm their forebears through sheer volume. And while the melody is hard to resist, the band's earnest exuberance is the glue that holds it all together. --Jason Crock

96. Gucci Mane [ft. Plies]
"Wasted"
[Asylum]

Gucci's music is divisive, like gangster rap should be. He is a hedonist, often emotionally detached and frequently ironic. "Wasted", though, was not an act, and, given his recent legal troubles, has a brutally sad subtext-- you know you have a substance abuse problem when you're failing piss-tests under threat of jail time. It was the party-rap hit of 2009, a track for rap fans tired of the encroaching gloss of Flo Rida's 1980s corpse-fucking formula. Fatboi's gradually layered chainsaw beat was the perfect groggy intoxicant for Gucci and Plies' slurred pitch-imperfect raps. Combined with Gucci's 50 Cent-like ability to ingrain a hook into his listeners' subconscious, and a scene-stealing quote from Plies ("I don't wear tight jeans like the white boys...") made this one of 2009's most memorable singles. It's nice to have an anti-hero again. --David Drake

95. The Thermals
"Now We Can See"
[Kill Rock Stars]

A recording studio? A band? Who needs those artifacts and ankle weights these days. During the last half of this decade, lots of young artists-- Washed Out, Toro Y Moi, Bon Iver-- retreated from full-band settings to the isolation of their consoles, computers, and bedrooms. Maybe that makes the Thermals, who recorded Now We Can See with indie production star John Congleton, Luddites, but that archaic methodology also makes the title track such a successful anthem. Up front, we get a sing-along of four repeated syllables in a hook so simple you'll know it by the time the drums-- loud and live like, you know, real drums-- enter. Then we get our backstories-- damaged kids of disparate origins. And then we hear what we hope can be our future-- a confluence of independence and solidarity. "Now we can see/ What should we need," sings Hutch Harris. "We should need nothing at all." We thank you, rock band. --Grayson Currin

94. Best Coast
"Sun Was High (So Was I)"
[Art Fag Recordings]

In all the hubbub over the 1960s suntime funtime revival this year, it was surprising to see how few female singers got involved-- that beach party was a total sausage fest, brah. Thank goodness then for Bethany Cosentino, who broke off from Pocahaunted to contribute her own project to 2009's (ugh) wave of oceanic lo-fi. "Sun Was High (So Was I)" has all the signposts of its scene: murky percussion, barbed-wire-stringed guitars, oodles of reverb. But it stands out from the pack due to Cosentino's reach-back-and-belt-it vocals, a lighthouse through the four-track fog. That passion creates girl-group echoes, although the fact that Cosentino sings alone rather than in a shimmying trio lends the song a kind of isolated sadness. Yet even a fuzzy kiss leads to another, and "Sun Was High" was a much-needed feminine breeze for the year. --Rob Mitchum

93. Morrissey
"Something is Squeezing My Skull"
[Polydor]

After Morrissey's onstage collapse and subsequent pegging by a drink-hurling fan, Years of Refusal's muscular, defiant opener, with its worries about the star's health, feels like its most striking accomplishment. For such an aggressively upbeat glam-rock tune, the theme is melodramatically bleak-- and, to British pop fans, probably doubly familiar: Modern life is loveless. Worth it just to hear Moz list meds and then breathlessly repeat, "Don't give me anymore," at the song's conclusion. Oh, Mother, he can feel the soil falling over his head. --Marc Hogan

92. Cam'ron
"I Hate My Job"
[Asylum]

Killa Cam's career-peak infamy hung on elaborate death threats, audacious wardrobe inventories, and lyrics that used the slipperiest words possible to get his point across. "I Hate My Job" has none of those traits, and that's what makes it one of his weirdest tracks. Cam's casually audacious flow lets up on the swagger and rolls out a couple hard-luck stories dealing with 9-to-5 frustration and the even harsher realities of unemployment, and damned if it doesn't work perfectly. Not only does he capture the perspective of a stressed-out underpaid woman ("Ain't no money for new shoes or purses here/ Should've done my first career, nursing, yeah") and an ex-felon trying to join a diminished workforce, his delivery absolutely nails their emotional stress. Skitzo's piano-driven beat is deceptively uplifting, with a choral "yeah yeah yeah" refrain providing a bit of classic-soul sympathy, but it doesn't obscure the bitter realities at the core. --Nate Patrin

91. HEALTH
"Die Slow"
[Lovepump United]

It's fitting that HEALTH's most melodic song to date manages to rip and rend something sweet from a grind. It's a hook that could have been fashioned from sheet metal, but adorned with wiry guitar and Jacob Duzsik's airy vocals, the cycling, jagged loop gains velocity and feels visceral yet restrained. These Smell alums obviously know how to move a sweaty, packed room; listen for the double bass-hit and the chugging, heavy riffs that make a brief appearance 10 seconds in, a paean to house parties past. What makes "Die Slow" stand out is that it's some of the best evidence yet that, after a dance remix record and road trip with Trent Reznor, these guys know how to play to a much larger room. --Patrick Sisson