This one’s a game-changer. Seeing that my mom’s a kiwi, Rosy Parlane would be getting extra cred from me in the first place, recording in Auckland as the ex-Thela/Parmentier participant does, but he doesn’t need any charity. “Willow” overflows with color and just the right amount of crackle, cycling into itself and bubbling but never boiling. It’s a slow process considering the short run-time of the format, and I was surprised at how much Parlane got done in a small window of time. That’s Side A. “Morning,” the flip, is a straight-drift of a drone, and as 7-inch incarnations of the genre go, it’s pretty goddamn compelling. It’s like an angel opening her eyes first-thing in the early A.M., the light of eternity peeking into her cloud cottage. No, I’m not on anything, though it wouldn’t hurt to be, as this is druggy shit. Obviously if I were given the choice of letting one track live and snuffing the other out, I’d embrace “Willow” as my own (and raise him right; no biscuits after 11:30, young man!), but there’s a mighty balance being struck here. You just got Touch’d.