As I wrote this, the winter's first snowfall began to sprinkle the streets of New York. This event has serious implications: My shoes will soon develop unsightly salt stains, my landlord will finally turn on the heat, and, most important, my listening habits are about to undergo a major shakeup. Goodbye springy rhythms and sprightly melodies; hello bleak beats and dour introspection. Just a week ago, I was deep in the clutches of Vampire Weekend's Afropop-meets-indie-rock--but sub-Saharan rhythms don't sit quite right when I can't feel my toes. So having traded in jangling guitars for chattering teeth, the following albums are sure to hit just the right notes of snow-driven solitude.

Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago: The fact that the name of Wisconsin songwriter Justin Vernon's new project comes from the French words for "good winter" (bon hiver) makes For Emma a seasonally appropriate choice; the spare folk-soul tunes make it a perfect one. Over the course of nine songs, Vernon's rugged acoustic guitar evokes the eerie beauty of ice-covered branches. The real draw, though, is his fragile falsetto, which floats over the chords like the last leaf of autumn falling gently to the ground.

Wu-Tang Clan, 8 Diagrams: The new album from Staten Island's finest is a typically excellent blend of clanging beats and spectral samples. Harking back to the surreal sound-movies of Enter the 36 Chambers, 8 Diagrams is littered with verses as clear and cold as a block of arctic ice. But the atmosphere conjured up by resident sonic genius RZA is unmistakably and forebodingly urban-like curbside snow turned black from exhaust.

Various Artiststs, Control (Original Soundtrack): The adjectives "desolate" and "chilly" might well have been invented for Joy Division, whose majestically frosty music gets five tracks on the soundtrack to Anton Corbijn's Ian Curtis biopic (including the Killers' cover of "Shadowplay" and a rendition of "Transmission" by the actors who play the band). Corbijn's use of music by figures that inspired Joy Division produces equally shiver-inducing results. In particular, David Bowie's Berlin-era "Warszawa" and Iggy Pop's "Sister Midnight" are synth-driven masterpieces of frigid alienation.