This week, the entire southern region of the United States has been preparing for the historic Winter Storm Fern, which promises to pound the Bible Belt with a wintry mix of snow and freezing rain.

What better music to listen to while cooped up in your cabin than a genre whose sound often draws inspiration from the harsh conditions of a January blizzard?

Or, if you prefer to ruminate on the meaning of life while you scan the dreary landscape, check out the song of the week, whose listening experience evokes images of rows of Soviet bloc housing in a frozen tundra.

Whatever your desired Winter listening experience may be, Auxtra Weekly has you covered.

Stay warm—let the music bring the cold.

— Will Thomas

Bowery Electric, an ambient drone duo hailing from New York City, are often hailed as pioneers of electronic music, and for good reason. Their magnum opus, “Beat,” is a transcendental journey into a dystopian, gray-washed urbanscape, where the line between the imposing horizon of a city skyline and the vast nothingness of the sky and space above bleed together to create an infinite vista where direction, perspective and space are nearly indiscernible.

Look no further than “Empty Words,” the album’s second track. Lawrence Chandler’s reverb-heavy guitar drones as a trip-hop adjacent drum beat creates a tone of melancholy, as if the listener is reminiscing on memories that never existed in a world of contrast long forgotten.

The lyrics are poignant and pensive. Martha Schwendener whispers about the absurdity of words– their meaning and lack thereof. Why do words matter when actions speak for themselves? “Empty Words” exists in a state of aftermath, its circumstances dictated long ago from unfamiliar lips.

For fans of: Aphex Twin; Portishead; Boards of Canada

The 1980s were a tumultuous time in the United Kingdom’s history. Margaret Thatcher’s tenure as prime minister brought about the rise of conservatism and privatization. Jobs disappeared, social tensions rose, and the margin between the top and bottom half seemed to grow by the hour.

In response to the region’s growing pains, a vibrant indie music scene began to blossom across the isles, producing some of the most influential musical acts of the modern era, none more so than The Jesus and Mary Chain.

Formed in East Kilbride, Scotland by brothers Jim and William Reid, The Jesus and Mary Chain stormed onto the indie scene with the 1985 release of their debut album, “Psychocandy.”

Their feedback-soaked, fuzz-in-your-ear pop tracks created a dreamlike listening experience, as if the listener tapped into an extradimensional AM signal. Songs like “Taste the Floor” and “Happy When It Rains” paint a picture of lost innocence and anger at the absurdity of the world the band finds itself in. The tension between the discordant guitars, the abrasive hum of synths, and the brothers’ cynical lyrics marry together to form a sonic blend of distortion.

Many of TJAMC’s songs track like pop ballads, but the band’s use of controlled noise is, in William Reid’s words, what set the band apart.

“That's why we started using noise and feedback,” William Reid said in The Jesus and Mary Chain - An Autobiography by John Robertson. “We want to make records that sound different.”

They not only achieved their goal, but with it, ushered in a new era of noise. Grunge, post-punk, noise rock– each genre can trace their roots back to TJAMC’s chaotic blend of dissonant, saturated pop. Pixies, Primal Scream, The Stone Roses can all be considered disciples of TJAMC.

Heavy distortion, noise tension, the attitude of a generation who felt abandoned by the status quo. William and Jim Reid spearheaded a musical revolution where noise is melody and harmony can be found in the chaos.

For fans of: Echo and the Bunnymen; Sonic Youth; My Bloody Valentine; The Cure

Raucous, jagged, unyielding. The list of superlatives for A Place to Bury Strangers is indicative of their moniker, “the loudest band in New York City.” The band was founded in 2002 by David Goffan and Tim Gregorio, who were later joined by their primary songwriter and guitarist Oliver Ackermann in 2003.

Since then, A Place to Bury Strangers have patiently carved their names into the zeitgeist of 21st century noise rock, having released seven studio albums alongside a plethora of EPs and remixes to critical acclaim– but have yet to find massive commercial success outside of their niche.

Ackermann created the guitar pedal brand Death by Audio in 2002, and his affinity for the devices can be heard in every APTBS album to date. The guitars are distorted and fuzzy, the basslines are booming and pulsing, and the unrelenting drums propel each song forward like an adrenaline shot to the heart.

Their wall of sound approach finds harmony in the hectic, lending itself to the cacophony that firmly cements APTBS as one of the premiere noise rock groups of the century.

For fans of: Sonic Youth; Metz; Unwound; Swans

From distorted guitars, booming synths, and walls of sounds, explore the genre that redefined what noise can be.