A year or so ago, Amy, Dana and I played one of our elimination games to determine the best female singer-songwriter. The final matchup paired Joni Mitchell (carried there by Amy and Dana’s joint support) against Aimee Mann. Mann was a surprise finalist, not as high-profile as many of the women she bested and I was thrilled to give her my vote (though, sadly, she lost).

For my money, the pinnacle of songwriting and performing talent among the fairer sex is represented by Lucinda Williams, Fiona Apple and Aimee Mann. Tift Merritt has recently made a strong surge into that group as well, and her music is a nice complement to the variety of styles represented by that trio.

I’m breaking this group out by gender in the same spirit that the Oscars award a Best Actress trophy… it just allows me to spread the love. The truth is, there are only a handful of male artists I consider close to the talent level of those women — Elvis Costello, Lyle Lovett, Ben Folds, Rufus Wainwright, Josh Rouse and Stew. I honestly don’t know how I’d rank all of them in a mixed list (a task for another blog entry, perhaps). And I’m not even entering “band” terrain, which introduces another set of names entirely.

All of this is a roundabout way of saying that Aimee Mann has put out a new album, and that is a very big deal around these parts.

And not just any album… @#%&*! Smilers may well be her finest record yet. I already consider it the very best album I’ve heard this year, and this year has been damn good for new music.

Mann’s evolution as a songwriter has been striking to behold. Starting with ‘Til Tuesday, she has always had a knack for melody (who doesn’t love ‘Voices Carry’?) but her solo work took things to a new level. Her first two solo albums, Whatever and I’m With Stupid, were packed with literate pop gems but neither hinted at the depth and nuance to come on Bachelor No. 2. That album, made more popular by the inclusion of some of its songs in Paul Thomas Anderson’s film Magnolia, is one of my all-time favorites, and the work that launched Mann into the pantheon. She followed it up with two very strong concept albums — Lost in Space, a somber exploration of loneliness and addiction, and The Forgotten Arm, a storybook album detailing the love affair between a boxer and his gal. On both albums, Mann perfected the art of the gorgeous ballad but wasn’t afraid to rock out from time to time. She could have stopped right there and still been tops in my book.

But with @#%&*! Smilers, she has moved onto another level entirely. Now I know music is a very subjective thing, and many people will listen to this album and think “Yeah, that’s nice enough” and move on. But for my money, she’s assembled a true masterpiece.

Start with the vocals. Mann’s delivery is spot-on, her voice jaded and cynical until she hits those sweet high notes and you can just hear the ache. Musically, this batch of songs is mostly mid-tempo, laid-back soft rock, but the instrumentation is simply brilliant. Piano is the dominant instrument here, but with heavy support from acoustic guitar, strings and a delicious horn section. Every note, every flourish, every backing vocal is perfect — the production on this album tops even Jon Brion’s superb work on Bachelor No. 2.

Lyrically, Mann is more abstract and evocative than in past albums, though each song works splendidly as a little short story about one lost soul or another. Standout track ’31 Today’ is a perfect Gen-X sequel to Bachelor No. 2‘s ‘Ghost World,’ her exquisite exploration of adolescent aimlessness — “Called some guy I knew / Had a drink or two / And we fumbled as the day grew dark / I pretended that I felt a spark / I thought my life would be different somehow / I thought my life would be better by now / … But it’s not, and I don’t know where to turn.” ‘Phoenix’ follows a neglected lover as she gets the hell out of Dodge (well, Phoenix), sighing “It’s hard to know when to cut and run / You balance heartache with your fun / And when the scales tip, you know you’re done.” In the fiendishly cryptic ‘Stranger Into Starman,’ which I’m convinced is a jab at Jeff Bridges, she sings “With a pencil and eraser I’ve rewritten all your crimes / I turned Stranger into Starman / in the Sunday New York Times.”

While the movie year is off to a rather slow start (Iron Man aside), I couldn’t be happier with the year in music so far. Elvis Costello put out his strongest album in at least a decade, Tift Merritt’s third album has lifted her to a whole new level and newcomers Vampire Weekend have released the freshest alternative album I’ve heard in years. Throw in exciting new work by Duffy, Santogold and Robyn and a blistering return to form by R.E.M. But leading the pack is Aimee Mann with @#%&*! Smilers, an unexpected masterpiece.