Some catch-up, in case you've missed the Lewis fervor: In 1983, an unknown blonde Canadian using the name Lewis records an album of wispy synths and mumble-crooning called L'Amour. He puts it out on the vanity label called R.A.W. (the acronym turns out to be his initials, probably: Randall Aldon Wulff) then disappears. The album and Lewis are forgotten by time. It's possible he dies. Boogie Nights and Cocaine Cowboys somehow absorb his energy as it floats over North America. In 2007, a record collector discovers L'Amour at Recordland in Calgary, kicking off a cult following that comes to a head this year, when Light in the Attic reissues the album.
A few days ago, an eBay posting advertised a second album, said to be recorded in 1985 by Lewis Baloue. Pulled from the same Recordland collection, today its listing has reached $1,725. There'd been rumors of the album's existence, but there'd also been rumors that Lewis transitioned from Quaaluded fuckin' music to make religious songs—seemed like the whole thing might be a hoax. Out of nowhere, this morning, Light in the Attic not only confirms the authenticity of Romantic Times but drops a proper reissue into their store, with snippets streaming, available for vinyl preorder now and instant download. I'm listening now and I can't take life seriously anymore. Everything seems easier and harder, brighter and darker. I'd had this idea that Lewis was here once—in Beverly Hills, on earth, once—and then vanished. Hearing him singing so strangely and lost, I don't know if he would've ever said he was there himself, a ghost that sounds like a ghost.