Gummy Bear Vitamins

It's 45 degrees and raining in Philadelphia on this January Tuesday, and there is nothing I can do but let my mood fall right in line with the oppressive melancholy of the scene outside of my library window. Point is, I am in dire need of relief from this winter of mud and five o'clock sunsets. Music will have to be my savior, but I'm in no mood for rock n' roll.

Luckily, in the mindset matching department, I have been alerted of a new release from one of my favorite artists, Eef Barzelay (aka. the Clem Snide lead singer/wunderkind). For those of you unfamiliar, Clem Snide, a Brooklyn based foursome, are one of the most dependable independent bands of the last decade. Their early albums were fun-loving and ironic, laid out beautifully and candidly in Barzelay's earnest, trembling tenor. 'Your Favorite Music' and 'The Ghosts of Fashion' are must haves, with tracks like 'I Love the Unknown,' 'Don't Be Afraid of Your Anger,' and 'Long Lost Twin' solidifying their niche as poet laureates for the confounded 20-something crowd. Though their bite has been dulled in their more recent efforts by a more romantic approach (see 'Soft Spot'), they continue to contribute albums that are well worth the price.

Barzelay's solo effort, 'Bitter Honey,' is the first of its kind that I know of. Almost every Clem Snide album features a track or two of stranded guitar and vocals, but the band is better known for its creative din of muted horns and banjos played with cello bows. From what I've heard, this album finds Barzelay alone and exposed with only his acoustic guitar for support. His unique voice wallows within a sullen, lonesome range that bleeds honesty and adeptly captures the grey landscape of a midwinter scene. I get the feeling that if I saw these tracks live on a day like today, I would gladly burst into tears.

For folks seeking midwinter medicine of the rueful, lonely sort, this might be your opportunity to injest a healthy dose. Sometimes, a stubborn melancholy can only be treated by indulging its own necessity; too much sun is no good for an honest soul.