Maybe you've seen them in the stores. Maybe you've read the reviews. But somehow you never got around to listening to them or buying them. In case you missed them, we offer a sample of some of the offerings -- good and bad -- that 2005 brought us.

So here's to the ones that got away (although OnMilwaukee.com did write about a few of them during the year):

Marah -- If You Didn't Laugh, You'd Cry

This may be the best album you've never heard of this year. Marah is the tightest loose band in the world, or maybe it's the loosest tight band in the world. But on "If You Didn't Laugh," the band shows the raw intensity that has built their legend on the East Coast, yet you get the idea that they're having the time of their lives on this album. Although their lyrics are a bit obscure (try making sense of the gorgeous pop song, "The Demon of White Sadness") they always seem to get their message across. It's rootsy, it's pop, it's intelligent songwriting that will grow on you with every listen and expresses the unbridled joy that rock and roll can be when it's done right. From the achingly beautiful ballad "So What If We're Out of Tune (With the Rest of the World)" to the rollicking "The Hustle," this is one of the best releases of the year even if the cover art looks like something out of a high school freshman's notebook doodlings.

Paul Weller -- As is Now

Just when you thought the old punk's career had died before he got old, following several uneven and disappointing albums over the past couple of years, Weller turned in a stellar performance on "As Is Now." Weller, the brains behind the magnificent '70s and '80s punk rock band, The Jam, and the guy behind the brilliant Style Council, has put out an album that re-establishes his credentials as a bona fide singer-songwriter of tremendous talent, able to straddle punk and balladry with little effort. He's versatile as all get-out; "Come On/Let's Go" would have fit well on any of The Jam's albums, while "The Start of Forever" has him crooning in a way that would make your date's knees week. The album has a little bit of everything - punk, balladry and, unfortunately, a seemingly endless funk number, "Bring Back the Funk Parts 1 & 2" that mars an otherwise brilliant comeback.

Antony and the Johnsons -- I Am a Bird Now

It's hard to believe that this one got past anybody, but this lush, haunting, weird album is one of the most unusual released in years. It's hard to pin down the androgynous Antony's ethereal voice; is it like Tiny Tim? Aaron Neville? Casper the Friendly Ghost? Whatever. It's plaintive, mellow moving and, once you get used to it, gets better with each listen. This is guaranteed to make guests ask "who is this?" when you play it. The opener, "Hope There's Someone," is painfully beautiful and sets the tone for the rest of the album.

Arcade Fire -- Funeral

This album is so compelling you can't just listen to it one song at a time, although "Wake Up" might have made an interesting single. One of those rare albums that needs to be taken as a whole, it is a symphony of keyboard- and guitar-driven melodies and driving rhythms that demand your attention and keep it for 48 minutes.

Caesars -- Paper Tigers

Combine The Psychedelic Furs with The Killers, add some Jam or Clash, and you have Caesars. How the hook-laden, pop anthem "It's Not the fall That Hurts" failed to get airplay and become a huge hit is more a reflection of the artistic bankruptcy of commercial radio than it is the quality of the song. Although they got some exposure with "Jerk It Out," which was featured on an IPod commercial, that song is probably the weakest on the album. And that says something about how strong this album is.

Garbage -- Bleed Like Me

Garbage is as ferocious as ever, and "Bleed Like Me" maintains their credentials as one of the most important bands to come out of the grunge movement. Listen to the menacing guitar and Shirley Manson's growling coo on the opener "Bad Boyfriend" and you know they're not screwing around. By the time you hear "Run Baby Run," the second cut, you're hooked. Part of the genius of Garbage is their ability to sound dangerous and melodic at the same time. "Bleed Like Me" is proof of that ability.

Kaiser Chiefs -- Employment

Somewhat of a critical darling, the Chiefs' "Employment" was a mixed bag of catchy, even exciting, pop with songs like "I Predict a Riot" and "You Can Have It All," (try to get the chorus out of your head after one listen) which is reminiscent of a '60s British Invasion mid-tempo tune. But then there's the appropriately titled "Every Day I Love You Less and Less," a synth-driven annoyance that gets worse with every listen. It will be interesting to hear what their next album sounds like, and they show both flashes of brilliance and mediocrity.

The Ike Reilly Assassination -- Junkie Faithful

It's hard to think of an album that's more thought provoking and introspective of the lot that's come out this year. Guitarist/songwriter Ike Reilly and his band have put together a sophisticated, moody album with lyrics that pack a punch. When an album opens with the song "22 Hours of Darkness" and lyrics that say: "You think that maybe love is not enough/You think that maybe drugs are not enough/You think that maybe flesh is not enough/you think that maybe this is just your life," you know you're in for a roller coaster ride that goes 42 minutes. The album is rootsy, bluesy, occasionally acoustic, and altogether enjoyable. "No one's ever going to pay to hear what goes on in your mind," Reilly sings. But you should pay to hear what's going on inside his.

Flamin' Groovies -- Shake Some Action

The reissue of this album re-states the Groovies' importance as one of the last remnants of the '60s sound. Interestingly, the promotional material for the album says that "Shake Some Action," along with The Ramones' debut album, "were the early tremors of the punk shockwave." But comparing the Groovies with the Ramones, or the punk movement, seems silly when you listen to the jangly guitars and harmonies of "Yes It's True," which has more Dave Clark Five than Sex Pistols. The rockabilly "St. Louis Blues" could have been placed on Rockpile's "Seconds of Pleasure" album, and the gorgeous ballad "You Tore Me Down" would have fit nicely on a Byrds album, but, originally released in 1976 this album was looking back, not forward. Produced by Dave Edmunds, the sound quality is a little thin, a little flat, but overall a decent album that holds up well after nearly 30 years.

The Alkaline Trio -- Crimson

With their menacing power chords and dark lyrics -- "such a basket case/hide the cutlery" in the opener "Time to Waste" sets the mood here -- you'd think the Alkaline Trio should be chained up somewhere. But the tight harmonies and hook-laden guitar riffs make this album grab you by the throat, and it keeps your attention throughout. The depressing lyrics -- "I used to long for a casket to call my home" -- juxtapose with light melodies to create a compelling sound. Think of the Smithereens on speed, and you've got "Crimson." The album is high-energy, thrashing, but never grating.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club -- Howl

Possibly one of the worst albums of the year, or perhaps even the young decade, "Howl" is more of a whimper or a whine. Whatever potential this band showed on their debut album "B.M.R.C" is totally destroyed by this mishmash of attempts at roots, gospel and whatever else they cooked up during what seems to be a album put out during a drunken bender of a low-end manic phase. It starts out with the horrible stomp "Shuffle Your Feet" and goes downhill from there. The entire album smells of a contractual obligation, and by the time you get to the "bluesy" "Ain't No Easy Way" you'll think you would have been better off to throw your money into the street than be sentenced to even one listen of this pretentious, tiresome, even insulting groaner. This is truly one to be avoided.