T o refer to the Bay Area hip-hop scene as "emergent" would be ridiculous. Though it hasn't quite captured the national consciousness, classic tracks have been rolling steadily out of the area for nearly 20 years (MC Hammer notwithstanding). Those merely curious should look no further than DJ Eleven's skull-warping Best of the Bay double mix tape. Raucous, riotous and occasionally ridiculous, BoB is one of the year's best records, a tidy introduction to a scene that's been — with just a handful of exceptions — ridiculously peripheral. The comp begins in media res with the spectacular "California Livin'" by Mac Dre. Stylistically similar to the 2Pac track of the same name (but preceding it by five years), the song bounces steadily on a rat-a-tat drum loop and a bassline that bobs like it's on hydraulics. The rest of BoB is just as euphoric: Digital Underground's "Doowatchulike" is fantastically elastic, low-to-the-ground flow stretched across hand-claps and bass-slaps. Hearing the scene progress over the course of the album's two hours is remarkable: beats get slower, synths more sinister, flows darker and less playful. B-Legit's "So International" revolves around a tense, twitchy guitar line and an eerie, disembodied female chorus, and "Sideways" by E-40 is a star slice of synthetic funk. The whole Bay scene is rapidly being packaged for mass consumption due to the emergence of the shorthand "hyphy," which garnered some popularity thanks to a 2004 single by E-40's group The Federation (Keak Da Sneak, who coined the phrase, wrote a better one, but for some reason it's omitted from this collection). Their song comes near the conclusion of disc two, and sums up the aesthetic perfectly: "Hyphy! Make the nosy neighbors wanna call the cops/ Hyphy! Get pulled over? Don't stop/ Hyphy! Make a baby mama slap her baby daddy/ Hyphy! Dancing all on the hood of your partner's Caddy/ Hyphy!"

A different scene is documented on Serious Times, a compilation coming from the label XL early next month. The current reggae scene has long been lacking a legitimate profiling: street-corner mixes lean too heavily on dancehall and slow jams to the exclusion of nouveaux-roots. It's all gold, but the magnet track is Turbulence's grim, grueling "Notorious." With its steady bass throb and Turbulence's pained, singsongy flow, it's the first great feel-good-about-feeling-bad song of the fall.

(j_keyes@citypaper.net)