It shouldn’t be so surprising to learn that Eef Barzelay is touring with a documentarian, but it is. I thought he did that himself. I thought that all the stories on his solo debut, “Bitter Honey,” were just little refracted portions of his day-to-day. He shouldn’t need a documentarian riding shotgun with him, attempting to sum up those quirky times into scenes that will pan over a horizon or fade out to end the thought. It takes all of his and our objectivity away when that happens. If his ass was bouncing next to Ludacris, I want to be told that that was what was happening from Eef himself, not some documentarian. But, the Clem Snide lead singer does have a guy like the Grizzly Man had and here’s hoping that Casey Dienel gets her own chapter or at least half a chapter when she plays a few shows with this master of the three and a half minute storyline that always includes the lighting, the leads, the foils, the crushing turn of events, the moral, the heartbreak, depth of character that should take hours to achieve and a reward modernly paralleled only by the works of Jeff Mangum and John Darnielle, who seem to come from the same head space that allows for a complete unhinging of their rightful minds and the permission to slip—incognito—into one of a total stranger. They see these strangers with reverence for their plights, pitfalls and penance. They find no fault in their efforts and gravitate to some of the tiniest failures that turn into the stories that rend us breathless just because they were found. And now we’re able to save them, pressing them between the pages of a book to keep forever. Perhaps, in looking at others so methodically and with such an enthusiastic stake in knowing what grinds their gears, what makes their eyes grow water and what their dreams have for dreams, songwriters like Barzelay get to themselves quicker and know their own soft spots more intimately. It sure seems to work on us. – Sean Moeller

Barzelay tells us about five things that he’s still thinking about from last week:

One— Last week, I felt deeply homesick while watching “Wife Swap,” even though I was sitting in my living room at the time.

Two— My 4-year-old son woke me up at 6 a.m. excitedly proclaiming, “The food goes in the food holes and the blood goes in the blood holes.”

Three— I re-discovered Slim Whitman.

Four— I worked out and home-recorded a version of the Huey Lewis and the News hit
“Jacob’s Ladder” for a Spanish compilation.

Five— I back-handedly questioned a friend’s marinade, but we were able to just agree to disagree.

Tour dates:
10/7—Jammin Java (Vienna, VA)
10/8—World Café (Philadelphia, PA)
10/10—Mercury Lounge (NYC)
10/11 – Maxwells (Hoboken, NJ)
10/12—Iron Horse (North Hampton, MA)
10/13—Club Lambi (Montreal)
10/14—Rancho Relaxo (Toronto)
10/16 – Schubas (Chicago)
10/17—High Noon Saloon (Madison, WI)
10/18 – Mojos (Columbia, MO)
10/19—Duck Room (St. Louis, MO)
10/20—The Basement (Nashville. TN)
11/01—Crocodile Café (Seattle, WA)
11/02—Doug Fir (Portland, OR)
11/03—Sam Bonds Garage (Eugene, OR)
11/05—Café du Nord (San Fransisco, CA)
11/07—Hotel Café (Los Angeles, CA)
11/16—Irving Plaza (Daily Show concert with Mountain Goats and Superchunk in NYC)