With most music, the path from verse to chorus to bridge is mapped in familiar ways, so when the usual breadcrumbs disappear, it can be a bit disorienting. That would be the case with New York City-based Icelander Úlfur and his newest collection of experimental atmospheric pieces. To call Arborescence stark wouldn’t quite do it justice. The release of the album during winter is appropriate, because there’s an icy quality to it. The self-titled opener feels a bit like getting lost in the snowy woods and encountering the scariest thing you’ve ever seen. That’s not to say this album is something to be feared; it’s the kind of resonant—sometimes violent in volume—cold that awakens your sharpest senses, making soft moments like the strings of “Serpentine” all the more invigorating. On “Weightlessness,” the feeling is less floating above ground, and more being buried beneath it. If you’re intrigued by a little sonic desolation with some metal drama, get on this.