Ever since I began this website, I have longed to write this post, for winter, without a doubt, holds my heart as the most hauntingly poignant and achingly beautiful of all seasons. The naked, skeletal trees, the meditative silence of falling snow, and the sharp, biting breath of icy winds evoke an atmosphere of solitary yet seductive darkness that has shaped and inspired so much of the music I hold most dear. This collection of fifteen albums, to me, most vividly encapsulates the mystic melancholy of winter, each one a testament to the season’s stark, austere beauty and inextricable depths. Some are already well-revered as timeless masterpieces of wintry landscapes, whilst others are more obscured as hidden treasures, nonetheless abounding in the enigmatic, sublime charm of the season’s frost. May this musical tapestry of solitude, loss, and longing bring solace and snowflakes of hope to the soul-stirring, windswept days of winter that lie ahead.
Disintegration by The Cure
Gothic Rock, Dream Pop, Ethereal Wave, Post-Punk
Disintegration by The Cure has been my sanctuary for as long as I can remember, an empathetic heart where my every ache, regret, and transitory glimmer of hope is transformed into a tender yet tormenting rumination on love, loss, and loneliness. It is infinitely more than just an album to me—it is a sonorous mirror into the deepest segments of my soul, a haunting mirage of my own longing, solitude, and despair. With every note, the songs of Disintegration whisper and wail to the entombed yearnings and clandestine laments buried deep within my heart. Since I first encountered it at thirteen, it has been my sole, steadfast companion, especially during the still, silent, and solitary winter nights when the world feels as sullen and sorrowful as the album’s frozen, reverberative sonic realms.
Disintegration is an unrelenting cathedral of sorrow, a sprawling lament that pulsates with heartbeats of existential yearning so sunken and hollow that they dismantle and demolish any last illusion of hope. The Cure weaves a soul-crushingly harrowing and bone-chillingly desolate elegy to the inexorable passage of time and inevitable decay etched into the human condition. Deeply rooted in the Gothic tradition, the album dwells in the liminal threshold where despair and ecstasy coalesce, where the pain of sadness and the pleasure of its pine intertwine and transfigure into something sublime and transcendent. Each melody and lyric unfurls a tapestry of raw vulnerability that throbs and trembles with the essence of what it means to be human: to love, to lose, to long, to desire, to despair, and to die.
Steeped and soaked in solitude, the album thrums with the drumming, insatiable, incessant pulse of love, infused with a beauty inseparable from loss, flowing with harmonious nocturnes constantly teetering the verge of devastation, always drenched in melodies always trembling on the brink of death. The gloomy, penetrating guitars shimmer, glimmer, and weep like frozen raindrops, while Simon Gallup’s haunting basslines shiver, shake, and tremble with seismic solitude, plunging its listener into shrouded depths of despair, surreal spaces where pain throbs with the desire to destroy everything in its throes. The icy synths and spectral sound effects envelop its listener in tremulous tones that summon the deafening, desolation of a winter storm, evoke the dismal loneliness of rain-slicked streets, and conjure the vast emptiness of barren winter skies.
At the heart of Disintegration, Robert Smith’s gut-wrenching, chilling cries traverse through bleak terrains of love and decay, nostalgia and remorse, unearthing and exhuming emotions buried deep within the concealed layers of the broken human hearts. Disintegration whirls like a blizzard of bittersweet beauty, thrashing like a harrowing snowstorm that feels so violently hopeless it surpasses sorrow itself, for its tunes beckon and reckon with the most excruciating form of heartbreak: being the architect of your own ruin, the murderer of your own soul, the destroyer of your own hope, and the helpless witness to the destruction you left in your own wake. It is the ultimate hymn to the poignant pangs of self-destruction, self-hatred, and remorse, creeping and crawling like the slow suicide of surrendering to the frigid grip of your own fate. It is the terrifyingly chilling yet numbingly empty resignation to the tragedy that “it’s easier to get closer to heaven than to ever feel whole again,” the empty, soul-shattering abyss of realizing “how the end always is.”
From the feverish, frantic lust of “Fascination Street” to the murderous melancholy of the album’s title track, the latter half of Disintegration descends into a dismal desolation that is so deep, so sharp, and so unforgiving, it evokes the fatal frostbite of winter itself. The closing tracks sound piercingly bleak, so acutely painful that they summon the slow, sadistic death of hypothermia—a still, sharp emptiness that seizes, encloses and eventually freezes its starving, desperate victims in an ineluctable prison of hopelessness: an agonizing hunger for warmth, an aching thirst to survive, a forlorn longing for hope, a yearning to turn back the clock, a sharp, cutting pang of abysmal regret, and a pining for a past that never truly existed. Each note resonates with a visceral clarity that sounds so shrill it shrieks the helpless howls of a soul enmeshed in its own longing, entombed in its own snowstorm of solitude and sorrow.
Disintegration is the sound of a soul breaking apart, unraveling, and ultimately disintegrating into the bitter, unyielding frost of snow. Yet, within this dissolution lies an arcane pleasure: a strange catharsis in the act of finally being able to fall apart—a sublime pleasure in surrendering to destiny, an unexpected gratification within the painful throes of solitude. It is an elegy that is as enduring and eternal as the coming and going of winter itself, for it thrums with the bittersweet rhythms intrinsic to the human condition: the coming and going, the loving and losing, the suffering and dreaming, the living and dying that produces and destroys us. Whether you find yourself enraptured, entranced, or ensnared by the chill of winter, The Cure’s Disintegration evokes the solace that even in the coldest, darkest of nights, even in the throes of the deepest, most desolate despair, there is a dim flicker of light. In the loneliest of moments, Disintegration crawls out from the shadows to recall the universality of suffering, the intrinsic ache of existence, and the ineluctable nature of sadness that binds us together in beautiful disintegration, reminding us that, even in solitude, we are never truly alone.
Favorite Tracks: Disintegration, Prayers for Rain, The Same Deep Water as You, Fascination Street, Last Dance.
Ashes Against the Grain by Agalloch
Atmospheric Black Metal, Post-Metal, Depressive Black Metal, Gothic Metal, Doom Metal, Dark Folk, Ambient, Progressive Metal, Post-Rock
Always competing with Disintegration as my favorite album of all time, Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain arises as a dirge to impermanence, a lamentation for the fleeting and fragile beauty of nature set against the violently unyielding and unceasing passage of time. My spirit has long been drawn to the majestic, marvelous Douglas firs and western Hemlocks that tower over the dark, primordial old-growth forests of the Pacific Northwest. Years ago, this mystical allure—some strange, elusive force from deep within my soul—compelled me to journey three thousand miles from my Massachusetts home to attend college in Oregon and thus finally roam the gloomy, mossy, Northwest jungle that had felt like my spiritual home long before I ever set foot there. When I first stepped foot in the Pacific Northwest forest, its embrace overwhelmed me as I immediately felt its frighteningly powerful hand rest upon my shoulder and heard the murmurs of ancient trees urging me to believe that meaning lay hidden in every shadow, crevice, and branch.
Ashes Against the Grain is an album that appears as if birthed from the primordial cracks in those towering trees, a seamless flow of melodic currents drenched in the somber, shimmering crepuscular hues of dusk. The album captures the eerie, luminous divinity that saturates every leaf, flows through every current, and falls with each crystalline drop of the Pacific Northwest snow. Agalloch articulates an auditory landscape that is both colossal and intimate, deeply human yet undeniably divine. With its masterful interweaving of post-metal, black metal, and dark folk, Ashes spawns a sparse, melodic hymn as timeless as the ancient sway of those mysterious forest winds.
With the mournful, tender harmonies of folk music and the raw, vast, unrelenting darkness of black metal, Agalloch’s sounds swirl and storm through cycles of entropy and renewal, birth and death, and creation and destruction. The album gradually unravels and unveils the beauty inherent in decay, the quiet solace in the decomposition of death, and the numinous light that flickers as humans fall alongside the earth we inhabit. The melodies—melancholic yet majestic—resound with an eerie, ineluctable grief. And yet, deep within this sorrow lies an undying reverence, a romantic yearning, and, most of all, the deepest love for the natural world. The album’s title, Ashes Against the Grain, evokes its ephemeral yet enduring essence: ashes, the remnants of something once ablaze with living light, scattered against the grains of winter’s decay, bound to the frost of nature’s impermanence.
The album is a love letter to, and musical embodiment of, the Pacific Northwest—the strange primeval land where the vastness of nature overwhelms human presence and envelops you in a solitude that is both hauntingly frightening and soothingly divine. Ashes is a tale that symbolically narrates the metaphoric, abstract, and literal meanings carried by the winds of winter, a meditative song that sings of humanity’s complex bond with the natural world, an embrace of the inexorable interplay between life and death, and, most of all, an ode to the enduring intertwinement of melancholy and beauty.
Favorite Tracks: Falling Snow, Fire Above, Ice Below, Our Fortress Is Burning, Not Unlike The Waves, Limbs
Watching from a Distance by Warning
Doom Metal, Traditional Doom Metal, Epic Doom Metal, Slowcore
It would be difficult to encounter a work of art that so deeply captures the abyssal, all-consuming void of loss to the extent that Warning’s Watching from a Distance does. The doomy, gloomy, smothering weight of this album confronts its listener with a sadness so profound, so inexorably heavy, and so suffocatingly inescapable that it trembles and tremors on the edge of utterly unbearable. And yet, within its oppressive, murky shadows lies a comfort, a bleak and desolate allure that beckons you to continue listening, a depressive seduction akin to the somber charm of winter itself.
The album’s slow, repetitive, and hypnotic riffs spiral in agonizing, rhythmic patterns, each note encumbered with an unremitting, dreary hum that repeats over and over like a never-ending chasm of depressive cycles. The somber, deliberately lifeless progressions wrap around and ensnare you, pulling you deeper and deeper into their mournful vacancy until you are utterly entrenched in a solitude that feels both inescapably asphyxiating and yet strangely intoxicating.
Watching from a Distance is an lamentful ode to winter’s coldest, darkest, and most solitary of nights, those nocturnal moments when despair becomes the only constant, the times that imprison you with a grimness so ineluctable that all you can do is to surrender to your solitude and bear witness to your desolation, watching helplessly, hopelessly, and lifelessly from a far-away distance.
Favorite Tracks: Footprints, Watching from a Distance, Faces
Treasure by Cocteau Twins
Ethereal Wave, Dream Pop, Gothic Rock
For an album less depressive yet equally evocative of the season’s melancholic majesty, Treasure by Cocteau Twins offers a fresh breath of celestial air amidst the dark frost of winter. It is a crystalline chant resounding with winter’s fleeting beauty, like frost glinting in the pale light of a low winter sun—as ephemeral as it is enchanting.
While the wistful sound of Treasure echoes with the cold introspection of the season, it glows with a shimmering, prismatic light of the winter sun, sharply distinct from the hopeless rain of Disintegration, the sublime isolation of Ashes Against the Grain, or the suffocating despair of Watching from a Distance. Instead, Treasure’s soul inhabits the ethereal glow of winter, surfacing as a harmonic horizon veiled with the fleeting elegance of snow-laden landscapes and barren trees silhouetted against grim, gleaming skies. It whispers of winter’s liminal duality, existing between waking and dreaming, inhabiting the space between life’s primordial persistence and death’s frozen stillness. The album’s weave of iridescent guitar textures fused with Elizabeth Fraser’s celestial, wordless vocals transcend language to become fantastic instruments that resound feelings both primordial and otherworldly, innate and ineffable. The abstract, nonsensical, incomprehensible lyrics dissolve like snowflakes upon touch, leaving only a faint, hazy impression of longing, fragility, and mysterious mysticism.
Treasure encapsulates season’s romantic longing, it summon its quiet yearning permeating the invisible spaces of the frigid winter winds. The album is an hauntingly ethereal, mystical, and mythical treasure of the melancholy lingering in the cold voids of the human heart, the frost that melts under the warmth of dawn, the moments of ineffable beauty that fade and wither away into the lost, forgotten spaces between the past and present.
Favorite Tracks: Lorelei, Persephone, Pandora (for Cindy), Domino, Beatrix, Ivo
Cold by Lycia
Ethereal Wave, Gothic Rock, Dream Pop, Ambient
The title of Cold by Lycia effortlessly captures the essence of the album: an ambient, gothic, and diaphanous soundscape hewn from the frozen void of winter—a hypnotic lament for the soul of the earth’s soil. This wistful work of sparse minimalism and brooding atmosphere melds icy ambient, dissonant tones with harrowing, seductive gothic vocals, steeped in the primeval shadows of time’s inexorable trajectory. From the first breath of “Frozen,” Cold envelops its listener in a realm where meaning is veiled in despair and each chime reverberates with the weight of solitude and each echo whispers an esoteric, forgotten remnant of time.
Perhaps more than any other album on this list, Cold embodies the essence of winter—not merely as a season, but as a state of existence: fragile, decaying, and longing. Lycia, one of my all-time favorite artists, captures the primal darkness of time’s passage and evokes the everlasting, ancient melancholies of human longing. Cold arouses a stark atmosphere of austere beauty and quiet despair, its vast, sparse expanses conjuring visions of endless frozen plains and distant, unreachable stars, while each note crafts a soundscape as expansive as it is intimate, bridging the cosmic and the ancient, the human and the divine.
Listening to Cold is like standing utterly alone atop a snow-covered peak, the biting wind of winter whisking against your skin as your gaze sweeps across a barren expanse of desolate, monumental mountains. Each breath of icy air carries the murmurs of a forgotten, primordial history, whispering from the edges of eternity. The album resonates with a numinous melancholy, a longing that feels both otherworldly and deeply human—a strange space where time collapses, and the echoes of God emerge from the shadowed void.
Favorite Tracks: Bare, Frozen, Drifting, Baltica
Closer by Joy Division
Post-Punk, Gothic Rock, Coldwave, Synthpop
Now, for the pinnacle of existential despair and spectral beauty, the album on this list that most encapsulates the glacial isolation of winter’s bitter frost: Closer by Joy Division reverberates with the echoes of a soul unraveling in solitary dissolution. Its stark, unrelenting frost weaves austere, spectral textures that evoke barren, desolate winter landscapes, serving as a sonic meditation on mortality, alienation, and the unfathomable depths of human suffering.
From the opening moments of “Atrocity Exhibition,” the melodic yet deeply melancholic basslines pulse like a fragile heartbeat beneath an icy surface, setting the album’s somber tone. Each track unfolds like a chapter in an elegy, but none so hauntingly as “The Eternal,” whose funeral pace and sparse arrangements evoke the cold, still air of a snowbound world inching toward oblivion. Meanwhile, the metallic, shimmering synths of “Isolation” dance with an illusory grace, mirroring the detached alienation at the heart of the album— a dissonant interplay between motion and stasis, warmth and frost. Closer is an icy, haunting masterpiece, a work that finds unexpected beauty within despair, its stark austerity illuminating the dark, frozen recesses of the soul. The album does not merely evoke the winter season but becomes it, embodying the stark elegance of frost and the profound quiet of snow-covered desolation.
Favorite Tracks: Decades, Atrocity Exhibition, The Eternal, Isolation, Twenty Four Hours
Damnation by Opeth
Progressive Rock, Progressive Metal
Another of my all-time favorites, Opeth’s Damnation stands as a luminous masterwork to melancholy and introspective sorrow, a realm of reflective beauty that resonates with the haunting, beautiful sadness of a winter forest. Unlike the naturalistic decay evoked in Ashes Against the Grain, Damnation centers on the fragile, porinant sorrow of the human spirit, offering a deeply intimate meditation on longing and the quiet ache of existence. It feels like a relic from another world, an elegy murmured from the cold void of winter, where dormancy and stillness shroud the slow erosion of light.
The album’s soul is encapsulated in its fourth track, “Closure.” As Mikael Åkerfeldt’s achingly vulnerable voice intones, “in the rays of the sun I am longing for the darkness,” he captures the exquisite yearning familiar to those who find solace in winter’s cold embrace, those who feel trapped and suffocated by the oppressive heat of summer, and instead, ache for the quiet, shadowed solace of darker months. Damnation is not merely an exploration of sadness but an ode to its richness—a deep embrace of sorrow’s sublime, pleasurable power. For those who have fallen in love with winter’s bitter, aching cold, Damnation is more than an album—it is a refuge, a sanctuary for the soul.
Favorite Tracks: Windowpane, In My Time of Need, Death Whispered a lullaby, Closure, To Rid the Disease, Hope Leaves
The Mantle by Agalloch
Atmospheric Black Metal, Post-Metal, Dark Folk, Folk Metal, Neofolk, Post-Rock, Depressive Black Metal
Although The Mantle feels less wintry than Ashes Against the Grain, it remains a monumental opus of atmospheric melancholia—a profound aural odyssey that, like Ashes, encapsulates the sublime beauty of nature and humanity’s yearning for the divine. Breathing slowly yet harshly beneath the introspection, solitude, and transformation of snow-laden winter skies, The Mantle stands as another Agalloch hymn to the primordial majesty of the Pacific Northwest. Yet, where Ashes broods with nihilistic despair, The Mantle shimmers with quiet hope.
Both albums mourn humanity’s estrangement from its primordial roots while exalting nature’s transcendent power; yet, while Ashes laments, “The god of man is a failure / And all of our shadows / Are ashes against the grain,” The Mantle offers a glimmer of revelation: “If this grand panorama before me is what you call God / Then God is not dead.” Whereas Ashes portrays the bitter disillusionment of a species forgotten by God and abandoned to decay, The Mantle narrates the rediscovery of God—not as an abstraction but as an immanent force woven into the fabric of ancient forests, frozen rivers, and the ceaseless rhythms of the earth’s cycles. The Mantle sonically captures the realization that spiritual meaning, though obscured, is ever-present, hidden in the silent stillness of nature’s enduring presence. The delicate, acoustic guitars-melodic and mournful- intertwine with electric guitars that roar like distant storms, evoking both the gentleness of frost and the untamed ferocity of wild landscapes, echoing a dynamic interplay of fragility and power that mirrors the relationship between humanity and the divine—a bond at once intimate and incomprehensible. Traversing the shrieking abyss of black metal and mythic echoes of folk instrumentation, including ancient flutes and timeless hymns, The Mantle carries its listener on a philosophical and emotional journey through transient landscapes of snow and shadow whilst pointing toward the direction of the divine. In its hauntingly beautiful synthesis of despair and hope, The Mantle becomes a testament to the frail and enduring human spirit and its unbroken connection to the spiritually resonant cycles of the natural world.
Favorite Tracks: In the Shadow of Our Pale Companion, You Were But A Ghost In My Arms, … And The Great Cold Death Of The Earth, Odal, The Hawthorne Passage
Nótt eftir nótt by Kælan Mikla
Darkwave, Coldwave, Synthpop, Post-Punk
The chilling, crystalline synths of Kælan Mikla’s darkwave masterpiece Nótt eftir nótt shimmer like starlight piercing the Arctic night, conjuring the elusive, mystical allure of Iceland’s frozen wilderness. Each note breathes with the spectral chill of winter, immersing the listener in an otherworldly soundscape that feels both primordial and transcendent. Nótt eftir nótt feels like an invocation—a ritualistic hymn to the unseen forces that haunt the shadows, steeped in Icelandic folklore and reverberating with the enigmatic power of feminine darkness.
Through the glacial elegance of tracks like “Draumadís” and ”Hvernig kemst ég upp?,” Kælan Mikla crafts an enchanting rhythm, weaving siren-like vocals and icy instrumentation into an irresistible spell. Their music seduces and ensnares, pulling the listener into a realm where the gothic intertwines with pagan mysticism and Icelandic fairy tales. Nótt eftir nótt is a darkwave incantation, a bewitching ode to the feminine forces of night and winter. Its spellbinding blend of icy textures and haunting rhythms is a timeless tribute to the dark, mystical beauty of the winter night.
Favorite Tracks: Hvernig kemst ég upp?, Draumadís, Næturblóm, Nornalagið
Bergtatt by Ulver
Atmospheric Black Metal, Dark Folk, Pagan Black Metal
Undeniably one of the most transcendent black metal masterpieces ever conceived, Ulver’s luminous and haunting Bergatt stands as a quintessential winter opus—an atmospheric tapestry intricately woven from the ethereal threads of folkloric myth and the austere, ineffable beauty of slow-clad wilderness. Seamlessly merging the visceral, frostbitten intensity of black metal with the delicate, timeless grace of Norwegian folk, Bergatt unfolds as five-part elegy to loss, longing, and transcendence, carried like whispers on the winds through an ancient, snow-laden forest.
Favorite Tracks: Capitel I: I troldskog faren vild, Capitel II: Soelen gaaer bag aase need, Capitel V: Bergtatt – Ind i fjeldkamrene
Faith by The Cure
Gothic Rock, Post-Punk, Coldwave, Ambient
Nearly the entirety of The Cure’s discography could grace this list, yet Faith ascends as a quintessential winter elegy, towering above the rest. A spectral Gothic hymn to despair and disillusionment, Faith unfolds as a haunting requiem through shadowed corridors of loss, longing, and solitude. It captures the stark beauty and aching stillness of a frozen winter landscape, traversing through the desolate ruins of grief, existential uncertainty, and the slow erosion of hope. Stark, sparse, and spectral, the album’s haunting minimalism mirrors the bleakest gray skies of winter, enveloping the listener in a melancholy so profound it feels almost sacred whilst weaving a portrait of melancholy that lingers long after the last droning, bleak, and ambient echoes fade.
Favorite Tracks: Charlotte Sometimes (Bonus Track), Faith, Primary, The Holy Hour, The Drowning Man
Il était une forêt by Gris
Depressive Black Metal, DSBM, Atmospheric Black Metal, Dark Folk
Il était une forêt, my personal favorite among depressive black metal masterpieces, is a harrowing cry of anguish that envelops the listener in an overwhelming maelstrom of shrieking despair. Yet, within this suffocating pain, it conjures folkloric, pagan soundscapes steeped in the haunting beauty of shadowed forests and untamed wilderness. Il était une forêt does not simply depict sorrow—it immerses you in its depths, suffusing every moment with the melancholic, untamed spirit of the natural world.
Favorite Tracks: This is an album that demands to be listened to and appreciated as a whole.
Musick to Play in the Dark (1 & 2) by Coil
Electronic, Experimental Dark Ambient, Post-Industrial, Spoken Word
If you wish to immerse yourself in the unsettling solitude of a shadowy forest on an achingly cold and dismal winter night— biting your nails from the bitter chill and the creeping fear over what might lurk beyond the veil of darkness—Musick to Play in the Dark is your passage into that foreboding winter realm. This album is a seductive exploration of fear, weaving a soundscape that perfectly encapsulates the unrelenting, oppressive, and alluring intensity of a dark winter night.
Favorite Tracks: Where Are You?, Are You Shivering, Red Queen, The Dreamer Is Still Asleep, Ether
The Damp Chill of Life by None
Depressive Black Metal, Atmospheric Black Metal, DSBM, Ambient, Post-Metal
Another of my favorite works of depressive and atmospheric black metal, The Damp Chill of Life stands as an essential soundtrack for the desolate, lonely depths of cold winter nights. Much like Il était une forêt, it immerses the listener in a sonic realm of profound melancholy, where each note drips with the weight of solitude and frostbitten despair. With raw, anguished vocals that echo like cries lost in the void and atmospheric layers that feel both expansive and suffocating, The Damp Chill of Life captures the essence of winter’s relentless grip on the soul. It is not merely an album but a cathartic journey through the isolating beauty of cold, melancholic nights—a hymn to the bittersweet solitude found in the stillness of frost-laden shadows.
Favorite Tracks: The Damp Chill of Life, Fade, It’s Painless to Let Go
Linea Aspera by Linea Aspera
Darkwave, Synthpop, Coldwave, Minimal Synth
My favorite darkwave album of all time and a definitive masterpiece of the genre, Linea Aspera‘s self-titled opus stands as an unparalleled winter hymn. Its stark, icy synths carve a labyrinth of human emotion, their analog precision cutting through the haunting echo of unspoken desires. A treasure to darkwave, the album captures the melancholic, evocative power of wintry synths with an unparalleled elegance, resonating with the cold clarity of winter’s breath and the raw vulnerability it exposes. The synths shimmer with clinical precision, yet their haunting timbre betrays an aching intimacy—a fragile equilibrium of detachment and longing. Through its intricate, meticulously crafted sonic layers, Linea Aspera constructs a contemporary Gothic elegy, a poignant meditation on the voids we yearn to fill and the barriers we ache to transcend. With its oscillating interplay of intimacy and isolation, Linea Aspera weaves a sonic landscape as stark, intricate, and achingly beautiful as winter itself. It is a timeless ode to the spaces we inhabit—both within and without—a haunting testament to darkwave’s power to illuminate the shadowed depths of the soul.
Favorite Tracks: Lamanai, Malarone, Synapse, Eviction, Hinterland, Fer-De-Lance
Honorable Mentions: Pornography by The Cure, Bloody Kisses by Type O Negative, Discouraged Ones by Katatonia, Violator by Depeche Mode, Fragments of Memories by The frozen Autumn, Seventeen Seconds by The Cure, Vespertine by Björk, Écailles de lune by Alcest, Blue Bell Knoll by Cocteau Twins
Ava Linda Feliz-Sutter 
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