DANIEL CLAY doesnt travel the same dusty roads as folk shouters Woody Guthrie or Bob Dylan. His stark and stylish strumming and ominous songwriting offer a welcome sense of malevolence to the craft. Whether singing from the rooftop of the Mattress Factory Lofts or mesmerizing audiences at gallery shows with religious melancholy, Clay is a man in black, pursued by a cloud of the same color. Hes a sinner in the hands of an angry God. Only his voice will set him free.