Chelsea Wolfe, a Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter and ruler of the alt-rock underworld, nixes every normal timbre for the sounds nightmares are made of. Her music is ethereal and wincing, like an anxiety-ridden acid flashback. Wolfe's music isn't so much horrifying as it is unknown, which yields a kind of harrowing beauty.

Chelsea Wolfe, a Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter and ruler of the alt-rock underworld, nixes every normal timbre for the sounds nightmares are made of. Her music is ethereal and wincing, like an anxiety-ridden acid flashback. Wolfe's music isn't so much horrifying as it is unknown, which yields a kind of harrowing beauty.

By her voice alone, you might compare Wolfe to Björk or Amy Lee of Evanescence, but the instrumentation underneath, particularly on her newest, Abyss, isn't so easy to pin down. She flirts with NIN-inspired industrial metal on "After the Fall," Beach House-style dream pop on "Simple Death" and an overdriven James Blake on "Color of Blood." "Maw" evokes the same mystery as a Deafheaven interlude, and it wouldn't be a stretch to call parts of "Carrion Flowers" and "Dragged Out" drone metal. (You get the picture.) It's that aforementioned nightmarish vibe that ties all these sounds together. Abyss proves Wolfe has her aesthetic down pat.

As a bonus, Wolfe is taking the stage at Ace of Cups - a dark venue quite befitting of her music. A Dead Forest Index is set to open.