Permit me to introduce him, the name is Mr Fox. 
 
Some say that the meek shall inherit the earth, but when style is indistinguishable from skill - that man shall inherit it's music. Judge for yourself dear listener and when you're convinced, slam that gavel hard to the rhythm of The Fox. So let’s get up to get down, stop the flirting, put down your weak soy mocha, its time for a full strength, double shot espresso martini. 
 
Let me tell you a little of what we know of The Fox's story. He's a singular man who can still be the boy his mother won't forget, and can charm you with a skill that your beau won't forgive. In fact he knows how to charm the birds out of the trees but that’s another story. How high can he sing? Well how longs a piece of string? He's gonna zig when you zag, he's gonna hip when you hop and he has no opinion of where your advertising dollar should be spent. More than anything else The Fox has a good ear for a righteous tune when it comes a knocking and he knows that it’s always the right time – night or not – for the right tune with the right charm.
 
So he’s gone and done a little crate digging and dusted off his favourite 45s to save you looking too hard for the tracks you never knew you needed. 
 
"It's the new old school." he told me, then turned on the heel of his bass weejun and left me to wait till they were down, mastered and boss. 
 
These tracks resurrected here in the name of love, and by the voodoo of groove, are the songs un-killable. These are handpicked melodies from The Fox's private stash so he can be with you no matter what your mood. Play them loud or low, at night or not, just by yourself.. or roll up your rug for all your fellow style-weejuns. 
 
The Fox knows your name. He’s a modernist and he knows that clothes maketh the music, just as surely as if they played an instrument.3 buttons. Side vents.16 inch bottoms. Loafers: oxblood if the shade of your mini skirt permits. And it would be unforgivably remise of me, not to mention the moves. The Fox.. Can.. Dance. He would screw silver plates to his loafers if it wouldn't ruin the leather. In the Land of 1000 Dances The Fox knows them all, even the ones that time forgot. You may call him a triple threat. I just call him a threat.
 
We left out some good bits along the way. Bobby owes a little bit to Franki Valli and the Four Seasons. A long and dazzling series of nights to tumultuous raving. And he owes just a bit to the only man for the job, Mr Lance Ferguson, with his funk/soul cats, The Bamboos, who once again proved that a song can walk or it can swagger, and in Lance’s cool hands it jumps right up and does the "Camel Walk". And of course there’s a little debt to the delightful Ms Kerr who plays Anne Margaret to The Fox’s Elvis, and that’s pretty fine.
 
So consider yourself introduced. 
 
Some of you know him. Some of you love him. And the rest of you don't know what you are in for… Ladies and gentlemen, The Fantastic Mr. Fox.