Dredged up from the industrialist-scarred hippocampus of Windsor, ON, The Spys were Southwestern Ontario’s finest ponx first-wavers. Here, the scintillatingly melodic proof that in 1979, as in 2012, Fords ruined cities: “Machine Shop” defies their hometown’s futureless, blue-collar bleakness one minimalist solo — and jazzy intro — at a time. On the flip, “Underground” tucks itself into the imperial bedroom of American power pop, emerging with a remarkably futurist-feeling recessionista anthem. (As it turns out, slugging wine, underemployment and the existential void aren’t particular to current eras.) Consider the Spys one of the deepest — and unforgettable — notches on Rose City‘s rust belt.