Like we said before, last year was a pretty good year for your ears, with releases from everyone from The Hold Steady to Thom Yorke notching a permanent place in many music fans' collections. The music was so good, in fact, that a lot of great albums just didn't make the cut. And while that's the nature of the game, a lot of albums still need their due.

That's where Aversion's Unsung Heroes of 2006 comes in.

Here's a final (we promise) look back on the albums that fell through the cracks in 2006. The ones that didn't make our year-end lists -- or probably anyone else's -- but deserve their due. We disqualified any album that came up on our contributors' 2006 year's best lists, then plucked out 20 highlights everyone seems to have forgotten, overlooked or never knew existed in the first place.

The Spell, Black Heart Procession (Touch and Go)

The enchanters in Black Heart Procession break a four-year silence to remind us of their singular songwriting style. The Spell, the band's fifth full-length takes the act closer to straightforward rock than it's ever gone before, though everything you loved about the Procession is still there. Dark atmospheres? Check -- there's enough gloom on this album to win a nod from a Cure groupie. Orchestration? Check -- the Procession keeps it in check, but adds dabs of violin for atmosphere when needed. The roots/folk foundation? Check -- The Spell sits somewhere between Southern Gothic alt-country and dark post-punk.         (read Aversion's review)

Milkwhite Sheets, Isobel Campbell (V2)

A year ago, if anyone would have said Isobel Campbell could be creepier on her own than when teamed with Mark Lanegan, we would have pooh-poohed you right out of our office. With Milkwhite Sheets she is, though: As minimal as any album receiving commercial release this year, the album finds the former Belle and Sebastian singer finding the dark side of traditional folk songs and her own guitar-and-voice arrangements. Her sparkling soprano's barely enough to hold back the tides of empty gloom that hang on her every note on this album, but it's enough to make Campbell's stab at folk one of the most chilling, and oddly hopeful, albums of '06.         (read Aversion's review)

Amber, Clearlake (Domino)

Sometimes it seems as if there's no place for big-guitar pop in the modern music world, but Clearlake proves that the old standbys still work if applied correctly. Amber doesn't rely on anything more than fuzz pedals, panache and an ear for alt-rock melodies. That's enough. Guitars roar loud enough to wake up the legacy of everyone from My Bloody Valentine and Hum while placing Clearlake among Britain's budding crop of bands who put riffs and hooks above pandering to NME writers and sucking up to American indie-rock fan-boys.          (read Aversion's review)

Get Good Or Stay Bad, The Cops (Mt. Fiji)

The Cops are the punk band every punk band wishes it were: loud, hungry and totally in control of the chaos it wields. Get Good Or Stay Bad juggles the sort of influences that'll make any real punk lover lap The Cops up: The Clash, Television, The Damned and a dose of Nuggets-era garage collide with a distinctly modern sense of pacing to let The Cops proudly show off their influences without resting on their heroes' laurels. Buzzing guitars shrill over syrup-rich bass lines as front man Michael Jaworski barks as if he's channeling the spirit of Joe Strummer. It's punk rock free of its myriad sub-genre influences, teen-culture ties and radio-friendly makeover -- in short, everything that made you fall in love with punk rock in the first place.         (read Aversion's review)

Waterloo to Anywhere, Dirty Pretty Things (Interscope)

Pete Doherty and Babyshambles might have inherited The Libertines' loose-and-dirty dynamics, but Carl Barat and his Dirty Pretty Things got its focus and passion. Although traces of The Jam and The Clash still pop in to guide Barat's songwriting through Waterloo to Anywhere, Dirty Pretty Things ease off the shambling punk energy for crisp, modern rock. It's still a far cry from The Libertines' collaborative efforts, but its charging rhythm section, Barat's sly delivery and buzz-saw guitars show that Barat's talents were just as important, if not more so, than Doherty's in their former band.          (read Aversion's review)

Song Cyclops, Volume Two, The Doleful Lions (Parasol)

It sat rotting on a studio shelf for so long everyone probably forgot about it, but when Jonathan Scott pulled it from the vaults where he iced it for five years; he showed the Lions had nothing to hide. Reverting to the lo-fi pop of The Doleful Lions' earlier days (it was recorded simultaneously with its Song Cyclops Volume One counterpart in 2000), Volume Two marshals influences as wide-ranging as The Beach Boys to The Misfits. Somehow, Scott ably pieces them together with enough pizzazz to make any pop disciple give thanks that this one finally made it into stores.         (read Aversion's review)

News and Tributes, The Futureheads (Vagrant)

While almost all of the post-punk revival mortgaged its future for the short-term successes that dance-punk and disco-derived sounds deliver, The Futureheads opt to explore song craft instead. Although the band still has a thing for the tinny guitars and occasionally crashing dynamics of post-punk, News and Tributes is far more than the cold-terror or hipster disco mood pieces of standard post punk. In fact, the slashing guitars and rubbery rhythms are just there to distract us from one fact: The Futureheads are a cracking pop act able to juggle everything from The Wonderstuff to Britpop's canon of champions.         (read Aversion's review)

He Holds a Flame EP, Harper Lee (Matinee Recordings)

Thanks largely to the Sarah Records legacy, fragile, quiet and reserved pop bands are as common as cretins at a frat party these days. Harper Lee, which features members of Sarah Records' own Brighter, is a reminder that, when it comes to fey bedroom pop, the British are still the masters. The act's melodies are as smooth and gentle as spring rain, and its guitars' warm jangle is the perfect vehicle for somber melodies. Singer/guitarist Keris Howard's restrained delivery's the crowning touches, showing that, even in the day of brokenhearted emos and over-sensitive indie kids, Harper Lee knows the difference between warm melancholy and simpering self-pity.        (read Aversion's review)

State of Emergency, The Living End (Adeline/East West)

Continuing to fuse their pop-punk, rockabilly and rock'n'roll influences into a tight, seamless package, Australia's The Living End shows Warner Bros. had no idea what it was doing when it let it go. Singer/guitarist Chris Cheney leads the trio through a set with enough energy and tuneful firepower to let the act hang next to the Warped Tour's gaggle of pop-punk fluffsters and emo-core ragers, State of Emergency is something entirely different. It's a timeless blend of classic rock'n'roll songwriting with decidedly post-millennial energy that you won't find anywhere but under the Living End name.         (read Aversion's review)

Putting the Days to Bed, The Long Winters (Barsuk)

Ever get the feeling that singer/songwriters aren't even trying to win over our ears, tossing out barebones acoustic arrangements? You won't with the Long Winters. Front man John Roderick's a singer/songwriter at heart, but he has a love for power pop that makes Putting the Days to Bed as accessible as any indie pop outfit, complete with excursions into synths, buzzing guitars and roots-rock stretches. Of course, the melodies are secondary to Roderick's situational songwriting: Roderick wraps tales of trophy wives, musicians' lovers and bad-idea romances around his introverted lyrics.         (read Aversion's review)

We, the Vehicles, Maritime (Flameshovel)

With its second effort, Maritime finds its feet. The band, which features former Promise Ring singer/guitarist Davey Von Bohlen balances its front man's love for huge, puffy pop hooks against a newfound sense of gloom. While We, the Vehicles isn't a collection of rainy-day anthems, it takes Maritime out of the sometimes saccharine pop of its debut album, to establish itself as something that's as close a successor to The Promise Ring as we're likely to get. This time around, though, instead of punky exuberance and adolescent tales of woe, Von Bohlen gives us sharp pop and mature songwriting. Growing up can be fun.         (read Aversion's review)

Puzzles Like You, Mojave 3 (4AD)

After a three-year break from the studio, Mojave 3 returned with a new album and a new love of pop. While the British outfit maintained touches of its folksy past, with banjos and rootsy acoustic guitars punching in for added flavors, Puzzles Like You, straightens out the band's sometimes rambling directions to focus on pure pop. Dashes of orchestration come in, as do a few more deliberately folk-pop numbers, but this time around, the foursome's ready to wow us with impeccable hooks and sugary vocals that should have had indie fans of The Shins and Death Cab losing thier shit left and right.         (read Aversion's review)

I Sing the Body Holographic, New London Fire (Eyeball)

After a string of conceptual albums in Sleep Station, singer/guitarist Dave Debiak hangs up the high-falootin' themes, grandiose indie-punk guitars and his art-rock ambitions to start afresh with New London Fire. The change, which places Debiak and his act at the crossroads of new wave, Britpop and arena rock, doesn't squander the singer/guitarist's talents. If I Sing the Body Holographic tones Debiak's sense of self-importance down a little, he makes it up with rousing guitar-pop that's hard not to love. Unconvinced? Try on album opener "Different" on for size, and if you're not hooked, consider disqualified from searching for the perfect pop tune.         (read Aversion's review)

Elan Vital, Pretty Girls Make Graves (Matador)

Pretty Girls Make Graves are one of the few bands that can successfully completely leave punk's sound behind while keeping a stranglehold on its spirit. Elan Vital captures the Seattle outfit as it emerges from underground expectations for an idiosyncratic blend of psychedelia, hard-edged indie rock act carves a niche for itself. While a freshly added keyboard player gives Elan Vital depth and textures its predecessors couldn't achieve with a slimmer lineup, things get real impressive when you dig into the album: Pretty Girls Make Graves massage their history and influences so masterfully, it's impossible to figure out where one ends and one begins. It's a truly singular effort from a band that's finally found its feet.         (read Aversion's review)

Zeno Beach, Radio Birdman (Yep Roc)

If coming out of retirement always went this well, nobody would cringe at the term "reunion album." The Aussie proto-punk legends, who had been touring sporadically for the past couple years, reconvene in the studio for the first time since their 1981's classic Living Eyes (Warner Bros.). Amazingly, it's as if Radio Birdman hadn't taken but a week off. The searing proto-punk guitars return with a bite and its fascination with early '70s Motor City hard rock endures on Zeno Beach, as the band's cocksure rock'n'roll is a reminder why Radio Birdman's so beloved by everyone from punk nostalgists to trash-rock enthusiasts. Contrary to what nearly every reunited rock act's taught us, maybe retirement doesn't kill your fire to rock.         (read Aversion's review)

Riot City Blues, Primal Scream (Capitol)

When Primal Scream last tried sleazy blues-rock, a dozen years ago, the results were unimpressive. After about a million stylistic makeovers, the British chameleons again turn blue, and this time around, things click. Riot City Blues isn't a new phase in the blues-rock tradition. Instead, it finds Primal Scream appropriating bits and pieces from the blues files. Whether it stays true with a greasy riff straight out of a Delta swamp, reinvigorates Maximum R&B or tackles trashy punk-blues as it tips its hat to Johnny Thunders, Primal Scream rips through the genre with an abandon that makes this record a rollicking, blaring ode to rock's smarmy roots.         (read Aversion's review)

Peculiar, The Slackers (Hellcat)

Anyone who tells you ska and rocksteady's best moments are lost to the past is a misinformed nostalgia buff or hasn't crossed paths with The Slackers' Peculiar. The New York veterans return with a politicized take on post third-wave ska that leans heavily on the style's soul roots. In fact, soul's the main course, with band leader Vic Ruggiero shouting and simpering like a born soul man, as the act's blend of herky-jerky guitars and thick, bongwater bass lines just prop up what ska's elite have known for years: It's not your power to get a crowd skanking, but your power to melt our hearts, ears and brains that really matters.         (read Aversion's review)

Dead FM, Strike Anywhere (Fat)

As the American public slowly came to its senses and realized this whole war on terror and the ensuing loss of life and civil liberties might not have been such a good idea, punk rock lost most of the ideological fire that roared before the '04 election. Not Strike Anywhere. The act delivers its first for Fat as it further sharpens its self-righteous anger and left-wing sensibilities. Loud, proud and well schooled in underground punk and hardcore's gritty melodies and fast-action ethos, the Richmond, Va. outfit strikes out at everything from nuclear proliferation to impermeable borders to make you think music may still change the world.         (read Aversion's review)

Parasiticide, Two Ton Boa (Kill Rock Stars)

Heavy music shouldn't punish your ears. It's supposed to wrench your soul. Two Ton Boa's sophomore effort, Parasiticide shows that without a doubt. Keeping the band's signature two-bass, no guitar style moving, Two Ton Boa slithers through a sea of low-end sludge and heavy-handed rhythms that bog listeners down with uncomfortably weighty, fun-house arrangements. Toss in singer/bassist Sherry Fraser's vocals -- which touch on enough self-hate and world-weary revulsion to give anyone a complex -- and Two Ton Boa's heavier, creepier and more meaningful than an army of raging metal acts.         (read Aversion's review)

Don't Mention the War, White Town (Bzangy)

After hiding out in Britain for five years, Jyoti Mishra gets his White Town project off the ground and returns to his do-it-yourself roots with Don't Mention the War, recorded and released on his own startup label. Gingerly tiptoeing around the Iraqi war, White Town merges Mishra's reserved bedroom-pop melodies with synth-pop production for a low-key classic that touches on everything from straight-edge atheists to Sabrina, the teenage witch. No matter how eccentric his pop tunes get (how's one about Leon Trotsky's love life strike you), the onetime "Your Woman" hit-maker never quite emerges from the shadow of living in a nation at war.          (read Aversion's review)