All the Rage

It may be his first nomination for an individual award, but Billy Smith is certainly no stranger to these awards, let alone the local music scene. Besides bringing some of the best live music to the city as booker for the Record Bar, Smith somehow also finds a way to squeeze in some stage time of his own with two bands — the spacious, moody Olympic Size and the disco-slaughtering Roman Numerals. myspace.com/olympicsize

Brandon Phillips (the Architects)

In this corner, the returning champion: Brandon Phillips! He's last year's Best Male Vocalist winner, vocal flamethrower for the Architects, co-founder of ska throwback the Sex Police, half of the Anodyne Records brain trust, and all-around good guy and local rock star. And, really, that's all that can fit in one paragraph. If you're keen on voting for the underdog, Phillips ain't the one, but keep something in mind — he didn't get to the top for no reason. myspace.com/architectskcmo

Danny Fischer (the Afterparty)

With swarthy good looks, dusty denim jeans and a harmonica in hand, Danny Fischer looks like a train-hoppin' troubadour from another time. In folk-pop band the Afterparty, Fischer channels Santo & Johnny's dreamy "Sleep Walk," Bob Dylan, and even the zany meanderings of Daniel Johnston. On last year's superb Under the Rainbow, Fischer croons and warbles about young women who are as sweet as candy and who leave a young man wrecked and happy. The Afterparty live isn't always consistent, but when Fischer puts his heart into it, the shows are pure gold. myspace.com/afterpartykc

Shaun Hamontree (American Catastrophe)

OxBlood Records was the local label to know over the past year, and Shaun Hamontree was its carnival barker — and not just because the American Catastrophe frontman's cavernous whiskey barrel of a voice and nearly 6-and-a-half-foot stature make him seem like something out of a backwoods traveling sideshow. Of course, all of that's important, but it wouldn't mean a thing without his commanding stage presence and a charisma that Kansas City music hasn't seen in years. myspace.com/amcat

New Act

Baby Birds Don't Drink Milk

This may come as a shock, but playful, multilayered indie rock doesn't have to originate from Montreal. In fact, the Kansas City trio Baby Birds Don't Drink Milk would be happy to demonstrate what an American take on Broken Social Scene might sound like with some extra-jangly guitars, bounding drums and ethereal vocals mixed in for good measure. myspace.com/babybirdsdontdrinkmilk

The Popsicles

The poet Robert Frost said that when it came to the end of the world, fire would be favorable but ice would suffice. Had the road-less-traveled-taker written instead about Armageddon via a blue-raspberry-flavored comet, then we'd know the man would've been a Popsicles fan. This eccentric troupe of rockers and over-the-top backup singers can be frightening to watch, especially when frontman Erick Sharda starts physically fighting with Erika Marshall onstage during the cathartic climax of "Oh My Dear (My Darling)." But then the band kicks into a tasty disco-stomp number like "Woo Wot Kid," and the world seems momentarily safe from the Popsicles' wrath. myspace.com/thepopsicles music

The Republic Tigers

See Pop.

The Rich Boys

In the halls of retro rock, there comes a point when something sounds so good, it eclipses any concern of derivativeness. Such is the case with the Rich Boys, sprightly youths who rock all L.A.M.F.-style with the requisite drainpipe jeans, haystacked hair and overgrown-teenager 'tude. The band's ascent to local popularity suggests that a foppish rock-and-roll youth troop was exactly what KC needed. Green enough to worship in the house of Thunders and old enough to pull it off perfectly, the Boys might not have ruled the 1977 New York scene that they've siphoned, but they sound like they could've. myspace.com/therichboys

The Sex Police

When word gets out that a musician has played ska, he can usually kiss his cred buh-bye. Just ask the Phillips boys. As the Gadjits, brothers Brandon, Adam and Zach rode ska's third wave until its backlash. Now that they're the hard-rockin' and Who-lovin' Architects (see Rock) who couldn't give a fuck whether their cred's in check, they've safely returned to their rude roots as the Sex Police. Backed by both of his brothers and some players from a few of KC's finest (the Stella Link, Doris Henson), oldest Phillips boy Brandon helms vocal duties alongside well-coiffed chanteuse Lori Demanche. The Sex Po's live shows, peppered with rocksteady classics from the Skatalites and the Specials, make for some arresting dance parties. myspace.com/thesexpolice

Pop

Ghosty