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Originally got out in 1995 and now re-released, The Thrill of It All box set hits all the high points of the Roxy canon. Early records had a more jagged sound thanks to Brian Eno’s synth experiments, but when he split to pursue tape-loop electronica, singer Bryan Ferry was left at the helm. His interests lay in smooth, lushly romantic pop. If he’d been born 25 years earlier, he would have been perfectly comfortable as a Crosby-style crooner. Instead, Ferry navigated the waters between disco, prog, soul, and Bowiesque glam, charting a new course toward adult contemporary. At times, the sophistication gave way to something soporific or preening. But there are moments of suave transcendence on all their studio records. While you’d still want Avalon and Country Life as separate albums, Thrill essentially replaces the rest of the Roxy catalog for the casual fan; you don’t miss much by culling the two good songs from Flesh and Blood and discarding the rest.

We’re not in the camp of those who idolize the Replacements’ earliest work—they’re like tomato soup, and had to cool down before we could stomach them. But it’s remarkable to listen to the increasing sophistication of Paul Westerberg’s writing, culminating in the whisky melancholy of “Within Your Reach” and “Unsatisfied.” The Twin/Tone albums chart the band’s growth from sloppy drunks with potential to perhaps the most important band in American alt-rock. But if you already own these records, there’s no pressing reason to rush out for, erm, replacements, beyond the sonic improvement of a digital remastering. If you want rarities, you’ll have to wait for ex-manager Peter Jesperson to finish his archival project culling a 70-hour stash of unreleased songs.

Even amid the ferment of punk and indie rock in the early 1980s, Camper Van Beethoven didn’t quite sound like anyone else, crossing R.E.M.-style jangle-pop with ska and surf rhythms and traditional European string melodies. Not that they made a big deal out of it. Laid-back, laconic, and tongue-in-cheek was their way, and especially on their brilliant debut Telephone Free Landslide Victory, it often seemed like they were simply winging it. That charming quirkiness gave way to more serious rock, inspired in part by a desire to garner some radio airplay. While they got it with their excellent cover of “Pictures of Matchstick Men,” intra-group enmity spun off singer David Lowery to form the less interesting Cracker. These days, the hatchet is buried, the nostalgia tour booked, the vault material re-released. In August, they put out a track-by-track cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk, and in November Cigarettes & Carrot Juice, collecting early studio records and a 1990 live set. First Avenue, (612) 332-1775, www.first-avenue.com

Launched in 1997 by Barry Levinson (Diner, Rain Man), Oz showed other theater and film vanguards that the path to creative freedom on the small screen led to HBO. The Sopranos, Six Feet Under and The Wire soon followed. Oz follows the lives (and untimely and/or gruesome deaths) of the prisoners in Oswald Penitentiary’s experimental unit, the Emerald City. The cast of neo-Nazis, murderers, and arsonists make Tony Soprano and his goombas look like the Backstreet Boys. Long-timers have only eight more episodes, but new kids on the (cell) block should check out seasons one and two, newly released on DVD, featuring early cast members like Edie Falco (Carmela Soprano) as corrections officer Diane Whittlesey, alongside lifers like Rita Moreno as Sister Peter Marie, still going strong 52 years after her screen debut.

New Year’s is one of those holidays where you can find yourself in a roomful of friendly strangers. In recent years, though, we’ve come to view it more like Thanksgiving—it’s so much more fun to be with people you know and love. Well, Debbie Duncan certainly qualifies. She’s one of the Twin Cities’ most beloved jazz artists, and we can’t think of a more suave New Year’s party than hanging at the Dakota. In with the new, too: Cuban pianist Nachito Herrera, who emigrated to the Twin Cities last year, shares the chores. Herrera didn’t waste any time setting up shop at Bandana Square—his recent and acclaimed debut album was recorded live at the St. Paul bastion of beat. If hot and cool jazz doesn’t bake your New Year’s brownie, perhaps you’ll want to make twang your thang, over at the Turf Club’s third annual bash with alt-country locals Accident Clearing-house. Last year’s was so well-attended we had to wait half an hour in the freezing cold to get in—and it was worth it. Dakota: (651) 642-1442, www.dakotacooks.com; Turf Club: (651) 647-0486, www.turfclub.net

If you want a wild bash with the lampshade-wearing and the drinking-champagne-out-of-a-shoe, look elsewhere. (Above, maybe.) For one thing, this civic cavalcade, formerly Capital New Year, is being held three days early. (The official auld lang syneing falls inconveniently on a Tuesday, and gosh, that’s a weeknight—though if you have to work Wednesday, you should fire your boss.) For another thing, the big fireworks finale takes place at 10 p.m. All this is perfect, however, if you’re in charge of some short people. (Kids, we mean. Verne Troyer can hit the bars if he feels like it.) Lest ye think we think it’s a snoozefest, know that there are dozens of performers on eight stages from blues belter Mick Sterling to the Flanagan’s Wake improv comedy troupe. If you can’t find something you like, you’re not trying. www.capitalholiday.org

Here’s a kid-friendly (not too late into the night) way to celebrate the New Year on the actual holiday, on the west side of the Mississippi. Well, actually right in the Mississippi. The Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board is pitching their tent on Nicollet Island. Skating, skiing, sledding, hayrides, and more are the order of the afternoon—and there’ll be indoor activities in the pavilion if it’s unreasonably cold (or hot, we suppose). It all wraps up at the perfectly reasonable hour of 9 p.m. Fireworks at 8:30. www.minneapolisparks.org

Close readers of this magazine know how we are obsessed with the Chicago-style hot dog. We’re pleased to report that The Wienery and Joey D’s have been joined by a serious contender in this life-sustaining work—and in the heart of sausage country, Nordeast! Uncle Franky’s is the real deal, working from the foundation of an authentic Vienna Beef dog, all the way up to the crucial celery salt. Several early sorties gave evidence that Franky’s minions were overloading the Chipico relish (that Day-Glo green stuff you learn to love), but we’re gratified to note that they’ve since adjusted the mix to allow the sport peppers and onions a little territory on the tongue. Even if you’re not partial to the Chicago dog, Franky’s serves a mean Manhattan chili dog, hamburgers, and—get this—an all-you-can-eat deal ($10 will set you up with your own wiener-eating contest). Maybe best of all, the French fries. We’ve never seen ’em like this—sort of the equivalent of ruffled potato chips, which lends more surface area to the fryer, and makes for a crispy snap. In other words, the fries snap just the way the hot dogs do, giving your whole lunch a kind of heel-click-in-the-air sensibility. A fiver plus change will get you a Chicago dog, fries, and a soda. Uncle Franky’s, 728 Broadway Ave. N.E.