Roollin’ uptee with Guy Les Lunettes (aka Michael Caffrey) and Beach Seat Black (aka Doominiq Alexander) aka the ROYAL HUZZLE CYPHER = PURPLE CAPE + HUSH PUPPIES x SLIME GREEN LACES + DOOM’s COTTON PORTI-TENT and MAROONBERRY BERET, though, laying in the cut tight, inside VADER aka Caffer’s 740 Swede Maheen Brick and natch’l blues DOOM is hipping the older gods (who need some hipping de temps en temps) on early NEW ROMANCE, even some proto-Ital-NEW ROMANCE (City, dude, try Googling that s/t lp -Dom) as well as some UK-Eighty-whatevers ish that sounds like basement ‘tronics with USA-70 loner-folk vox o’ertoops. Fit right into my new curiosity-style; Shaps be waking the grumps cuz the Wizard of Kozz is zonetoning early Simple Minds with only thin-walled St. Henri shipwright construction separating his nug and Jim Kerr’s not-so-ruff-hewn croon out the broown Tecnics, late. If you’ve ever hit the weirdcan BBS message board archives you know I’ve lit Christmas with Wolfcow before, playbs. “No sheet, meeester”. So stoked was the kozzmoobowl when Greydyn reminded her that Tones had sold him a sweet German tropi-sco side, summertime, debt unpaid, now paid, the greenside of which went to Snaps, the 3” of NEW CANADIAN OLD ROMANCE went directly into me Wolf Coow section. Because romance ripens, rather have it grown and warmed than young-blood cooled. Wolfcow is romantic like Sibelius (the Finnish composer not the software) is Romantic, not in some uptoon-yoothman-croon-wrapped-in microkoorg-hooz-that-sounds-like-a-hoockey-bag-spray-painted-black-filled-with-black-hand-sanitizer sense. These are no mere mild wonders; the songs here are stunners, or no, more like putting on stunners you bought for five zones in Kensington Market in order to shade your little ninja eyes from the huge shards of hot light that reflects off the salmon pink Royal Bank Tower at Bay and King, whose source is the two suns setting out across great Lake Ontario, glowing nuclear red on The Hammer, late-day pink on Goderich, motarded fuchsia on Oshawa, a glorious blown out gold on Caledon and, natürlich, or should I say natürlicht, an almost neon hue, nearly topaz in the far corners of the sky but decidedly hot amber and PURPLE on the GO Bus traced streets of Newmarket…And the crew salaciously awaits Wolfcow wax. Who’s stepping up? Greydyn’s hot light genius can’t be crammed onto 3” forever. Your Pal, Tones Ps: Contains guest vocalists. In the case of these cuts below, Dave Evans of the Soopcans and on the lush crooz-lit “Bad To The Rhinestone”, some randoo named Jon. Pps: Mid-period CANTORRecs WCBBSMB record porn is SFW unless Fern Ledouce in the cubes next to you is deeply offended by Ikea shelves adorned with Albertan Folk-lones... find yourself in conflict resolution, Fern spinning his pen Chinese-math student style, the mediator rippin’ a Tims, you resolute with a MacDos free grip feelin the only way out is to ADMIT to your addiction, hell, when you log in as USERNAME: HEATPEEPER the desktop image is a seductively cropped close-up of a Swede Pressing of Bo Hansson’s “El-ahrairah” lp.

Wolfcow - Exsanguination, I Presume

Wolfcow - Bad to the Rhinestone