PUMP PUMP PUMP PUMP (WOLFPACK OF ONE NATION ARMY)

WOLFPACK OF ONE SINGLES CLUB: THREE
In all honesty you probably aren't going to need to hear many more singles after this one. Best. Band. In. Britain. By miles.

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Wolfpack of One I'm fucking back, burning a hole in your pocket like a cashback, with my little book of lyrics and a four track, better tell Jack White that he won't get his beat back. Now this MC and his iPod is going to drop it like a hot Pot Noodle on a laptop, make a sticky mess that you can't wipe off, got the IT guys saying oh my gosh.

Pump pump, hands high, it's the Wolfpack of One. The one man band from London, England. Pump pump, hands high if you rock the four eyes, wave those sets and specs in the sky. Pump pump, it's The Wolfpack of One, ordering a Foster's just before lunch. It's the Wolfpack of One. Pump pump pump pump.

Hi my name is Andrew and I'm pleased to meet you, if we played Scrabble I would probably beat you. Because I've got the big letters and the triple-world styles, the killer syllables and both the blank tiles. My words havee got the White Stripes waving the white flag, Wagstaff tearing up the land like a by-pass: Shaking my white ass, showing you my class, the hits coming pretty thick and fast for the Wolfpack.

Pump pump, hands high hands high, it's the Wolfpack of One, and I don't think you really want to see my humps. Pump pump, hands high, in my old school tie, trying to turn it on like the Christmas lights. Pump pump, hands high, it's the Wolfpack of One going 'dum-de-dum-dum-dum' with the big bass drum, pump pump pump pump.

People pray silence now I'm speaking, the stage is my cathedral and I am the deacon. I'm shaking the steeple, rocking the pews, with the news that I swapped the font water for booze. To kickstart a party that was getting kind of dated, I tried to call the Time Team to have it excavated and now I'm getting popular like dip for Pringles, releasing a string of internet hit singles. Number three hundred on the download charts, Wolfpack of One about to tear you apart.

Pump pump, hands high it's the Wolfpack of One, set controls for the heart of the sun. Pump pump, hands high 'cause I got the mic for nine ninety five with free beats and rhymes. Pump pump, hands high it's the Wolfpack of One with the big TV for all the action. Pump pump. Pump pump pump pump.

THE GREATEST TAPE SHE EVER MADE

WOLFPACK OF ONE SINGLES CLUB: TWO
Free tape with issue two. (Jayne did the cover by the way - brilliant innit?)

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In the late 1980's this pretty girl gave me the greatest tape she ever made. She claimed if I played it ladies would strip naked and worship me like I was some kind of deity. Well I was just eighteen and that sounded amazing to me. So I took the thing home and I stared at it meaningfully. It came decorated with a terrible painting of a grizzly bear by a grave, and I tried to decipher the hearts and the spiders she'd biro-ed deep into the sleeve of the greatest tape she ever made.

When I looked inside it said sorry I lied about the girls, I was just being weird. But seeing as how you're listening there are a couple of things that I still think you ought to hear. You see I'm like the tape: you will pack me in crates and never listen to me much. And you're like the box, you always get lost and baby that sucks. Not all tapes have to end getting palmed off on friends or taken to parties and left, they don't have to get fucked and won't all self-destruct; honey take care of yourself. And the greatest tape that I ever made.

A PRIZE EVERY TIME

WOLFPACK OF ONE SINGLES CLUB: ONE
What better way to start the year than with a trip to Dawlish Warren?

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New Year's Day: chasing the clouds away in an amusement arcade on the South Devon coast. The pennies drop into the rusting slots, isn't it glorious? Though the go-karts are closed. It doesn't matter much that the crane's not strong enough to raise the crazy frog out of his case, because these friends of mine are the real prize every time, in this 1980's arcade by the bay.

Take our place at the roller-ball steeplechase, we'll soon have tokens to waste on mugs and flying things. The shooting range guns are too bent to aim, so we make our way to the peeling paint of the Old Boathouse Inn. Before we lose the light, we'll give our kites back to the night, and drop our last change in the copper mine. Try and find the car but leave a piece of us where we are, and we will find a prize here every time.

ONLINE SINGLES

Happy New Year everybody! Even though it’s February. How the hell are you? Yeah, me too.

Now, I heart New Year. It’s a time for new hopes, new schemes, and loads more telly adverts for debt consolidation and those magazines that build up week by week to become the ultimate collection of shitty little plastic soldiers, or a glow in the dark dinosaur that somehow costs you £800, or the first twenty eight seasons of ‘Allo ‘Allo on DVD. Issue one costs 50p (with free binder) normal retail price £8.99.

Not to be outdone, www.wolfpackofone.com is launching The Wolfpack of One Online Singles Collection. Each week we’ll be posting a brand new Wolfpack joint here on the homepage for you to download (FOR FREE!) building up to the ultimate collection of 51 (I’m giving myself a week off for my birthday) W.O.O. singles by this time next year. When all 51 are finished and firmly lodged in your heads I’ll be booking a venue somewhere and playing the lot live. This will undoubtedly, be the greatest night in the history of pop ever, and I’d suggest you start getting excited now.

Come back every week to collect the set...

cheers

w.o.o.