Grey music for a grey day

I know it is bad, but I can't help it.
Far too often, I let the prevailing weather conditions dictate my musical choices.
Why? Well, I am the type of person who needs my music to reflect my surroundings.
Today is cold, overcast and decidedly gloomy. I just couldn't listen to the Beach Boys of the languid rocksteady of Carlton & His Shoes. It just wouldn't feel right.
So, as I am preparing to head for work, I am also preparing to cue up The Cure's 1981 mope-rock masterpiece "Faith" on the iPod.
Long before Robert Smith was dancing around telling the world how much he was in love on Fridays, he was belting out beautifully sad dirges about funeral parties.
I try not to be much of a moper, but I have loved "Faith" since it debuted. I even have my first copy of it -- an imported cassette from New Zealand (one of the rarest artifacts in my collection).
I would never think of listening to it on a brilliantly sunny day. On a grey day, though, there is nothing better than "Faith's" sullen soundscapes.