At the beginning of the year, Sweat Records announced a contest for amateur filmmakers to create a video for local sweetheart Rachel Goodrich's latest single, "Lightbulb." The winner would receive bragging rights and $500. Thirty-seven artists uploaded their entries to YouTube for Sweat and Goodrich's consideration. The song, like much of Goodrich's work, is quirky, unthreatening, and full of kazoo. It's sunny and hummable enough to land in a Crayola commercial. So most of the would-be video directors submitted similarly twee clips and animations. Not Lucas Leyva, the young, upstart member of the local Borscht Film Festival. The Miami native is diehard 305 till he dies, and his version went for reality. Filmed in the streets of Wynwood, the video shows a gang of street children on bicycles, tattoo artists, and thugs with gold vampire teeth — all lip-synched along to Goodrich's happy-go-lucky tune. Some are loading guns or rolling dice. Oh, and between each of these vignettes, there's plenty of booty-clapping for emphasis. The entry was completely unexpected, and the predictable offended comments on YouTube were as funny as the concept itself. Leyva scored second place in the contest, but he's the winner in our book. (You can see it by searching Leyva and Goodrich on YouTube.)

If you're older than 25, you might remember the now-defunct Friday-night party Off the Radar, an indie/electro/what-have-you night organized by Poplife founder Ray Milian. It was never much of a success, partly because it was way ahead of its time and also because it changed venues too often. Milian, though, isn't a man who surrenders easily. He has put all the musical knowledge to good use to give Miami its answer to popular music blogs such as Gorilla vs. Bear and Stereogum. Off the Radar (the blog!) boasts Milian in the DJ seat, but instead of a turntable, he uses Blogger. He receives help from a group of contributors including Lillian Banderas, Caroline Geys, Michael Unger, and Erika Ordoñez. Though the majority of the blog doesn't focus on Miami music, it offers plenty of downloadable tracks for connoisseurs with more developed palates. In other words, if you're expecting this blog to discuss Justin Bieber and Lady Gaga, move along.

As music goes cold and digital, an ever-growing contingent of music fans and artists is turning back to the snap-crackle-pop of vinyl. For those who continue buying actual physical music, the big surprises of an actual record far outweigh those of the disappointing CD. And of course, vinyl will likely always appeal to obsessive collectors. But most crate-diggers in town are reduced to doing so virtually or picking through mounds of holiday-music albums at thrift stores. This is no longer so if they head to Cutler Bay, miles from hipster central. In a strip mall next to a sports bar lies Musicians Discount Center, which, at first glance, looks like just what it is — a small, family-run musical instrument store that's a decent place to snag your first guitar. But head to the back of the main room. There the store sells crates upon crates of old vinyl collections. It's a curated one, though, and it's a digger's paradise, with records conveniently sorted by style but priced as though they were still languishing next to those holiday albums. The average price is $5. Gaze upon first pressings of New Order 12-inches from the '80s, paw through early hip-hop LPs by acts such as Kool & the Gang, or snap up rock classics by artists such as Chuck Berry and Santana. Just don't spread the word too much — oops.

With three Miami locations, Lily's Records is the center of Latin music in the city. The main store — located on Calle Ocho — remains a busy intersection of all things Latin. Even in these hard economic times, people line up for new releases and appearances by their favorite artists. Big international names — such as Calle 13 — along with local up-and-coming artists make Lily's their main stop in Miami. And not only are the shops up-to-date on all the trends, but also this is the place to get your fix of classic salsa and other old-school greats. Whether it's Latin jazz, pop, or old-time tropical, all three Lily's locations have what you're looking for.

You don't have to look hard to hit this hot sweet spot. Situated in the center of Miami's comeback kid, Calle Ocho, it's the ideal place for folks in search of authentic Latin rhythms. The venue offers top live orchestras, such as the three-time Grammy-nominated Tiempo Libre. Even better, La Casa de Tula has one of the most spacious dance floors in the area. The club also offers an open patio that serves as a nice chill-out mecca for dancers who want to rest and mingle. The venue truly comes alive during the Viernes Culturales art walks, held the last Friday of each month, so be sure to check it out.

Let's face it: Rock clubs per se have a rather tormented history in Miami. In order to survive, venues need to either moonlight as discos or stop strictly curating their lineups. Oh, of course there's Churchill's, but that's an institution, seemingly likely to survive unchanged into the next century. Other than that, most so-called clubs are expensive anyway. The real best places to catch underground rock shows are at warehouses, and there is one for almost every micro-scene. There are the semiofficial spots for the all-ages pop-punk and post-hardcore circuit; the supposed art galleries that are little more than raw space; and the living-working spaces that open their doors to strangers. These spots change names and open and close faster than print allows, but head for the forgotten parts of town. There you'll find the most fun shows for the least money. Good places to check for listings are sorawfestival.com, which maintains an events database of its own and other promoters' shows, and the blog for the Guest Lab (guestlab.tumblr.com), an artsy-minded collective that hosts shows at the venue of the same name, as well as shares information about others.

Miami has a fickle music crowd. Your chances of winning over an audience increase only if you are behind turntables at a megaclub. When Art Basel Miami Beach organizers took a risk in booking British avant-garde R&B-meets-punk songstress Ebony Thomas — AKA Ebony Bones! — it definitely piqued our interest. This postmodern Grace Jones had barely played in front of American crowds, let alone those in Miami. After Yelle's lukewarm reception in 2008, Thomas gave the event the avant-garde jolt it needed. What worked in Thomas's favor was the international crowd that usually makes up any Basel event. Plus her performance featured an enormous backing band, colorful outfits, and an out-of-this-world performance that made it hard to look away. Couple that with an infectious melody that felt retro yet contemporary, and the concert was a highlight during a week that has become Miami's South by Southwest.

Everything about Karu & Y seemed wrong from its 2006 opening date. There was the mysterious name, the molecular gastronomy menu, and the confusing layout with concentric rings of warring nightlife "concepts." Then, of course, the most glaring problem: It was a sprawling luxury complex where the average cocktail cost $15 — in Overtown. The moneyed patrons who would frequent the same club on different turf were at first afraid to go; if they confronted their fear, they were escorted by security back to their cars. Everything was tumultuous from there. Chefs were hired and fired, the restaurant closed permanently while the club stayed open, and marquee-name concerts were promised and then failed to materialize. The biggest weekend of the year for the club always seemed to come during Winter Music Conference — a few days' stretch definitely not inhabited by locals. And then, this year, there wouldn't even be WMC for the club. Days before Conference, with little fanfare, party promoters announced the club had been swallowed back into the sprawling event space from whence it came — the formerly next-door Ice Palace Studios. And with that, the median drink price instantly plummeted.

If you have any notion of paying a couple hundred bucks for your garage band to cut a demo here, quickly dispense with it. The Hit Factory is for the big boys. And to get here — just like Carnegie Hall — you'll have to practice, practice, practice. In the '60s and '70s, the nondescript North Miami converted warehouse complex was a musical oasis for rock and soul musicians. It had amazing acoustics and a serious stockpile of equipment. This was the studio, after all, that cranked out James Brown's "I Feel Good," Fleetwood Mac's "Rumors," and even Black Sabbath's "Heaven & Hell." The studio bustled steadily until it was purchased in 1999 by New York's Hit Factory, officially becoming Hit Factory Criteria. Things only went up from there. While digital setups and updated facilities came in, so too did a new generation of producers and artists of a broader range of genres. These days, the Hit Factory is the local ground zero for high-chart hip-hop, pop, and R&B. The most anointed producers usually take up long-term residence. Scott Storch, for instance, had his own reserved parking space in the golden days. Moving up to the Hit Factory is a coronation of sorts, with the crown this year belonging to hungry young industry stars such as Usher- and Beyoncé-hit-maker Rico Love. No matter who's there, though, the studio remains the star, its storied history and great acoustics imbuing every track with a bit of rub-off magic.

These days, it takes major cojones to bother starting a record label, the kind that makes physical product and sells it. That's why those who do are usually extremely interesting, willfully obscure, just willful in general, or all three. Enter Matt Preira, a 24-year-old devoted to putting out his favorite weirdness and never getting too perturbed about the result. Actually, Preira is onto something. By keeping production small and releasing material only on vinyl or even cassette, the limited-edition cache has attracted a devoted following. Roofless Records has slowly snapped up full runs of releases by, say, underground house party bands from Tampa, or "psalms for lonely slackers," as the label's site describes a cassingle by local act Flux Forces. While Preira's output is idiosyncratic, to say the least, his great contribution to the scene is promoting shows under the Roofless banner. At venues such as Harvey's at the American Legion on the Upper Eastside, or at Bar in downtown Miami, he continually showcases the latest exciting bands from Miami, the rest of the country, and outer space.