The Sextortions ‎- Wolf Cat Fever Souvenir 7″: Vinyl, 7″, 45 RPM, Single

Description

Zombie Zoo Productions and Dirty Water Records/14th Floor Music present “The Sextortions’ “Wolf Cat Fever” souvenir 7″ now being toured around the world at a theatre new you.

Track list:

What do you get when you toss together the lurching, microphone-fellating, teenage werewolf-y-OOOOO-wling of The Cramps; Cry-Baby and Rock ‘n’ Roll High School’s reverence for sacred duty of horrifying the squares; the living cartoon world of Pee-wee’s Playhouse and its progeny, Hunx and His Punx’s music videos; and a hefty dash of randy fursonas—fierce pussies, lusty lupines, a drumming bat named Batusi, and one jumpsuit-wearing rum-tum tiger royal? Out of this guaranteed recipe for fantastical filth comes the luridly low-budget new trash-sploitation film, Wolf Cat Fever.

Directed by Josh ‘Sinbad’ Collins, alongside his fellow producer, costume and character designer, and partner-in-crime Babzotica, Wolf Cat Fever is an overheated, overstimulated tribute to rock-and-roll sleaze, which has been making its way through screenings and film festivals around Australia, Europe, the U.K., and finally comes to the US this fall. Though populated by furries, Wolf Cat Fever’s plot is not all that complicated. Surly, guitar-shredding, fire-locked feline, Furr Fever (Em Bleby), who can’t stand anything soft, has a (car-)smashing meet-cute with one-half-hillbilly, one-half-punk Wolfy Howl (Finn Burgett), whose lip-curling drawl and blue-black hair make him appear like Elvis’s long-lost lupine lovechild, after their own solo fits of delinquency at a roadside saloon and a love emporium. The couple takes their newfound mutual adoration on the road to—where else?—a casino, where Furr livens up the joint with her lethal guitar that doubles as a weapon, a blessing from the late monarch with the striped pompadour, The King. King is played by a perfectly cast Les Greene, the throwback wailer who channels the energy and style of Little Richard and James Brown and whose legendary performances I’ve had to frustratingly miss every time he’s in New York. Luckily, Greene’s The King haunts the entire film, waiting (im)patiently to avenge his death at the claws of the grifting, cartoonishly evil, cigar-smoking pug manager Rosetta (a scenery-chewing Justine Jones whose gigantic teeth are a character on their own) who has a nasty habit of nuking her successful clients. He gets his chance after Furr, Wolfy, and their two new musically (and sometimes, criminally) inclined buds, Batusi (Pablo Andres) and blacklight drug user/thief Weasel Ferret (Saša Čuha), link up to create a ferocious garage rock band, The Sextortions. What happens next is a familiar tragedy: managerial creep, music business exploitation, bad contracts with not-so-fine print, New Wave synth sellouts, and a campaign song for a corrupt scammer populist. Thankfully, the ever-present King is always watching—and gives The Sextortions and himself a rip-roaring opportunity for rock retaliation.