• "Hejrat" - Hejrat, Sholi

Iranian-American Sholi-frontman Payam Bavafa wanted to update this iconic track by Googoosh, pre-revolution Iran's biggest pop star (the title of which translates to "Departure" or "Migration") in light of the Revolution and the resulting migration of many Iranians to countries all over the world. While the '70s version bears a resemblance to Dusty Springfield both in vocals and arrangement, local act Sholi's update takes on a jazzier tone, and the drama and strings are traded for pep and Latin percussion. For most of us who are not familiar with '70s Iranian pop, this track recalls the haunting arrangements of DeVotchKa, but with vocals sung in Farsi.

• "Black Leaf Falls" - Leaves in the River, Sea Wolf

Sea Wolf, the project of Los Angeles songwriter Alex Brown Church, traffics in smart, confident and understated folk ballads. "Black Leaf Falls," one of the deeper tracks from the band's Dangerbird debut LP, Leaves in the River, is a perfect example of Church's penchant for subtlety and mood. It's an Elliott Smith-style dirge for impossible love powered by a jaunty pick-and-strum style guitar and echoey vocal.

• "Calling Lightning Pt. 2" - Magnificent Fiend, Howlin' Rain

Oakland's Howlin' Rain is one of those rare throwback bands that actually measures up to some of the best acts in the original era. The opening licks of "Calling Lightning Pt. 2" hearken us back to the heyday of Big Star, but we're snapped from that by Ethan Miller's bluesy vocal wail in the vein of Chris Robinson or Humble Pie's Steve Marriott. The rest of this song, which is a continuation of a rather difficult distortion-laden track from Howlin' Rain's eponymous first album is expertly executed blues-influenced classic rock, complete with heroic Dickie Betts-like guitar.

• "Change is Hard" - Volume One, She & Him

Leave aside the fact that Angeleno Zooey Deschanel is an accomplished actress. Instead, dwell on the plaintive, soulful, guileless appeal of her voice and with the top-shelf Brill Building lovesick-pop-ballad quality of her lyrics. Pair that with the breezy guitar and masterful arrangements of Matt (M.) Ward, and Volume One stands as an elegant and memorable first effort. "Change is Hard" is one of the more twangy numbers on the album and is perhaps the track that best embodies the duo's admiration for Linda Ronstadt. A lot of slide guitar, a strikingly subtle harmony vocal cameo by Ward in the chorus, and backup singers to add to the sense of longing. This song is not audacious or brash in its chasing of musical ghosts, it's celebratory and sometimes even moving.

• "I Woke Up Today" - All We Could Do Was Sing, Port O'Brien

Think of East Bay quintet Port O'Brien's "I Woke Up Today" as a sort of indie-rock tribal chant. Featuring an insistent drumbeat and a rousing group vocal, as well as random clangs, claps and other sonic improvisation, this is a live-show call to action. Port O'Brien lit up the basement of the Diesel Store during Noise Pop with its enthusiasm and exuberance for connecting with an audience. As the title suggests, this track is a eureka moment on the band's album -- an indie garage holler that will echo in your head long after the amps go quiet.

• "Sometime Around Midnight" - The Airborne..., The Airborne Toxic Event

"Sometime Around Midnight" is one of those songs that's immediately unmistakable as a hit. It's ambitious and grand in scope, opening with a lush and ominous string arrangement and a lingering sense of something big to come. The song finds a U2-like pace with that familiar guitar sound that we associate with The Edge but with angst-heavy Britpop vocals more along the lines of Muse. The Airborne Toxic Event doesn't sound like the moniker of an arena rock band, but this song will surely put them on that track.

• "Jodi" - Visiter, The Dodos

San Francisco experimental, indie folk duo The Dodos are beginning to establish themselves as among the most capable and creative musicians in the Bay Area. On this scorcher from their second album, Visiter, Meric Long's brightly-hued picked guitar is suddenly kicked into dissonance by drummer Logan Kroeber's spirited tom beat. The guitar battles its way back into rhythm and time and kicks into a drag race with the drums. As such, the song is a dynamo, leaving Long performing some vocal acrobatics in order to stay in time. "Jodi" is a tale of angst and longing for love to have a chance, but plagued with a monster case of ADHD. Man, this girl must really have him a mess.

• "Run to Your Grave" - HLLLYH, The Mae Shi

This infectious romp of a song from L.A.'s The Mae Shi builds from one of those clip-art Casio beats that are so popular in indie pop these days. But as soon as you begin to lament the preciousness of the lo-fi intro, the song explodes into a blaring guitar and a belted-out ensemble vocal, like a less polished and more spastic disco version of the Polyphonic Spree. Once a hand-clapped rhythm drops in, guess what, you're hooked. "Run to Your Grave" is big, audacious and fun-loving, but also a bit chaotic and random, like a pep rally for the debate team, complete with a slowly building marching-band drum interlude.

• "The Hollows" - Alopecia, Why?

We've been enjoying Why?'s series of tongue-in-cheek Kevin Smith-influenced videos on their myspace page (myspace.com/whyanticon), relating their woes dealing with some burdensome "friends" visiting their Oakland neighborhood unannounced. The videos bring to light the sense of humor that is behind the often tense and troubled avant-folk found in songs like "The Hollows." A plucky, squawking electric guitar line and tambourine sets the atmosphere for dark, layered backing vocals, sly lyrics and an unsettlingly meandering melody. This song is full of attitude, but comes across as winning and, for all its angst and chaos, surprisingly fun.

• "White Like Heaven" - Red State, Gowns

Gowns, which features Ezra Buchla, formerly of L.A.'s The Mae Shi and Erika Anderson, the guitarist for Amps for Christ, is catching some buzz in the wake of their appearance at South by Southwest. "White Like Heaven," an eight-minute chaotic pondering of the beyond ("Was it white like heaven or dark like space,") is an electronic-noise-flecked, darkly atmospheric testimonial that feels like an infinitely less optimistic, stream-of-consciousness baring of inner fears a la Daniel Johnston. The song is powerful and primordial both sonically and lyrically, and is fittingly disturbing and unsettling given its heavy subject matter.