Offensive? Sometimes. Compelling? Always.

Does Eminem’s “The Marshall Mathers LP” deserve to be the album of the year?

It’s not an easy question.

Trying to sort through the complex issues raised by the most explosive mainstream pop collection in years makes you sympathize with the justices who wrestled with the voting process in Florida. Whatever your verdict, you know a strong dissenting opinion can be written.

In reviewing the Eminem album last May, I docked it a half-star in Calendar’s four-star rating system because of its homophobic references. Others may easily subtract a full star for the aggressively sexual and violent imagery in the album, which has sold nearly 8 million copies.

Nevertheless, there is something in Eminem’s nothing-sacred approach that makes his work as compelling--and sometimes thoughtful--as it is ugly and unnerving. He’s a brilliant storyteller who speaks about anger and alienation with an arsenal of weapons that includes outlandish humor, horror-movie shock tactics, near pathological anger and social satire.

In the end, “The Marshall Mathers LP” is the defining album of 2000.

1. “The Marshall Mathers LP,” Eminem

Jim Carrey may have given us the best advice when it comes to Eminem. Introducing the rapper at the MTV Video Music Awards in September, the actor said Eminem’s music makes him nervous. But if parents talk to their kids about Eminem’s music, he continued, everything will be OK. I think he’s right.

The problem is that not all kids are blessed with access to strong, consistent parental guidance. But that’s a fundamental issue in society, one that goes much deeper than Eminem.

Filled with both self-loathing and self-affirmation, “The Marshall Mathers LP” doesn’t inspire in the uplifting way much of the best music does, but the album is a remarkable portrait of the dark, troubling influences and attitudes that young people wrestle with these days.

Eminem may not have set out to document this cultural battlefield any more than his audience turns to him for anything other than entertainment. But the album does serve as a warning siren.

“There’s a million of us . . . just like me . . . who dress like me, walk, talk and act like me,” he taunts in “The Real Slim Shady,” a hit single from the album.

Eminem sometimes wallows in crudity and prejudice, but he also takes pointed swipes at hypocrisy and parental irresponsibility--the kind of striking out at adult authority that has long fueled youthful pop rebellion. (Aftermath/Interscope.)

2. “I Am Shelby Lynne,” Shelby Lynne

If it’s hard to separate what’s real and what is pure provocation in Eminem’s stories, there’s no mistaking that Lynne’s country, rock and soul-edged tales of love gone wrong are honest and confessional. “Scared of lovin’ ‘cause it might feel good,” the singer-songwriter says in one tune on this deeply personal album, summarizing the torment of fearing what you want most. The album bristles with the passion and purpose of an artist who battled against conservative music forces in Nashville for nearly a decade before finally heading home to Alabama two years ago in a last-chance attempt to make the album of her dreams. A gem. (Island.)

3. “Voodoo,” D’Angelo

This follow-up to 1995’s “Brown Sugar” doesn’t have the immediate accessibility of that dazzling debut, and you wish this singer-songwriter concentrated more on hooks than leisurely grooves in the new album. But over time, “Voodoo” proves to be an even more complex and satisfying work. It moves from the social commentary of the blues-driven “Devil’s Pie” to the kind of sensual R&B; exploration that recalls the greatness of Al Green and Marvin Gaye. The new king of soul. (Virgin.)

4. “Red Dirt Girl,” Emmylou Harris

After holding our attention for more than two decades with her exquisite interpretations of songs by some of the best country, folk and rock writers of our time, Harris delivers an album that may be as moving as anything she has ever done--and the remarkable thing is that this time she wrote these songs about the mysteries of salvation and love. (Nonesuch.)

5. “Stankonia,” OutKast

This much-admired Atlanta duo’s latest album is a sonic feast that is equal parts politics and party dynamics. Some of the tracks are so overloaded with competing musical strains that they seem the hip-hop equivalent of Phil Spector’s legendary “Wall of Sound” production style. OutKast’s influences range from George Clinton and Rage Against the Machine to Prince and the Clash, all filtered through a progressive hip-hop perspective. “B.O.B.,” which stands for “Bombs Over Baghdad,” is one of the most delightfully delirious hip-hop exercises since Dr. Dre and Tupac Shakur’s “California Love.” (LaFace/Arista.)

6. “All That You Can’t Leave Behind,” U2

If you are going to measure every album by “The Joshua Tree”/”Achtung Baby” standard, there isn’t going to be much to cheer about each year. By mortal standards, however, U2’s return-to-its-roots collection soars--from the uplifting “Walk On,” the best rock radio anthem of the year, to the reflective “Peace on Earth.” The music carries the elegance and heart of rock at its most inspirational. (Island.)

7. “The Sophtware Slump,” Grandaddy

Jason Lytle, the creative force behind this understated Modesto rock quintet, layers his haunting music with gentle, dreamlike elements that underscore his concerns about the way the pace of life in the computer age causes people to lose track of underlying human values. (V2.)

8. “Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea,” PJ Harvey

After the storm clouds that characterized the series of albums that established Harvey as one of the most acclaimed arrivals of the ‘90s, the English singer-songwriter allows some Patti Smith-style sunshine to cross these tracks. Even the song titles--including “Good Fortune” and “Beautiful Feeling”--speak of new times and new attitudes. It’s a tuneful, feel-good package that is smart and alert, not mushy. (Island.)

9. “Relationship of Command,” At the Drive-In

In a year in which one great rock band (the Smashing Pumpkins) called it quits and another (Rage Against the Machine) lost its lead singer, it’s comforting to welcome another band that might assume the mantle of American rock leadership. In this major-label debut, the El Paso, Texas, outfit looks across the contemporary landscape with a howling, Rage-accented fury that carries the sound of a new generation searching for its voice. (Grand Royal/Virgin.)

10. “The Hour of Bewilderbeast,” Badly Drawn Boy

There are several candidates for the final spot on the list, including Travis’ alluring “The Man Who,” Allison Moorer’s heartfelt “The Hardest Part,” Jill Scott’s stylish “Who Is Jill Scott? Words and Sounds Vol. 1,” Steve Earle’s sweetly optimistic “Transcendental Blues” and RZA’s moody soundtrack for “Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai.” But I keep going back to British folk-rocker Damon Gough’s delicate reflections about the blessings of a love he never expected to find and a joy he isn’t quite sure he deserves. (XL/Beggars Banquet.) *

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Robert Hilburn, the Times pop music critic, can be reached at robert.hilburn@latimes.com.