Originally from rural Worcestershire, Toby has been writing songs since he was given his first guitar as a present on his 11th birthday. Toby has received consistent support from BBC introducing on all of his releases to date, as well as further airplay from Amazing Radio and Touch FM. His new single, 'Rather Be (With You)' is out now.

I'm a left bumcheek hanging from a noose. I'm the seashells in your stomach. I'm lime flavoured. I'm Michael Jackson trapped inside a slightly larger Michael Jackson. I'm toilet paper. I'm someone's lost ring. I'm a warm pot of earplugs on a Sunday afternoon. I'm a self-made turd. I'm vast and unsure of the meaning of life. I'm a cat's lips. I'm glitter on your lover's cheek. I'm a steaming idea. I'm gone, and then I'm back. I'm a dead end in a soft, locked room. I'm Barack Obama's very own automatic brush. I'm a harlequin baby. I'm a radish with a hat. I'm a melting electrician that's eaten too much pork. I'm the strength of a bendy spoon. I'm the growth of a priest's red hair. I'm a stained glass glove. I'm Hades on a fashionable weekend in the outskirts of cyberspace, twice. I'm a space invader. I'm cold and well-done over a businessman's vaginal noise. I'm delicately combed. I'm grey fabric wrapped in jealousy and love, but mostly jealousy. I'm a sign that your dinner is burning. I am your dinner. I'm an uncle in America. I'm losing. I'm a kinky leprechaun jumping on a purple water mattress trying to reach a sky filled with superheroes and a pheasant. I'm a poppadom (I'm not really a poppadom.) I'm the act of cunnilingus between fairies. I'm half a terabyte. I'm a villainous fool. I'm 98 bottles of beer on the wall, then I gave up. I'm a see-saw with a mildly amused prisoner holding a condom on one end and nothing on the other. I'm a cheeky oyster's tears. I'm not wearing underwear. I'm the removal of unhealthy vitamins for lesbians only. I'm an encoded message that says "Life isn't worth living without my Johnny!" I'm Google translated. I'm exactly the same height, width and depth as the amount of space you need. I'm a shockwave. I'm a bombed headquarters in Westham. I'm the muscle of over-exited worms. I'm five months overdue. I'm a badass cabinet. I'm abstract, and pink. I'm flying through my own fingernails. I'm an underground rusty flower. I'm everything good that's ever come from koala bears. I'm rainfall on election day. I'm chasing a clever midget in a kind of sexy way. I'm a raspberry molesting a disabled child. I'm a straw hat with a number of pendants hanging from it. I'm a notepad filled with war. I'm a small hole. I'm nature having an orgasm. I'm glued to a bald man's chest. I'm a rock with a candle painted on it. I'm the thing you turn on a radiator. I'm the space between the underside of a table and the floor. I'm logic corrupted. I'm the reality of baked syrup. I'm doing things which may have been done before. I'm the riff on a Funkadelic song. I'm that feeling you get when you feel like you haven't pooed enough. I'm forbidden. I'm the sound of three treasures cracking. I'm a female Morrissey dancing to the cries of hand-made clay sculptures being crushed beneath the weight of Buddah's belly outside a leisure centre on Christmas Eve, and I'm also a male Paris Hilton standing still as manufactured metal statues laugh beneath the weight of Jesus' foot inside a school on Boxing Day.

poor quality songs by a below average man

I'M NOW PUTTING NEW AND REMASTERED TRACKS ON CHOON - https://choon.co/artists/galaxy-wolf-in-space/ 

Galaxy Wolf In Space were formed in 2017 after >< awoke from a vision that demons were methodically removing his internal organs with barbed hooks to find that he had been dragged into a hell where people in first world countries were starving on the streets whilst a tyrannical narcissist sat as the most powerful man in the world. This was clearly the end of days and so, collecting together a band consisting of the reanimated corpse of a crow (\|/) and a sentient garbage can (/\-/\), Galaxy Wolf in Space set about making music that reflected the atmosphere of the age, coining the genre "dystoptheque" and mixing together 80s synth-pop references with lyrics preaching the impending apocalypse, Galaxy Wolf In Space set out to, if not save the world, soundtrack it's descent into chaos.

Independent Publicity and A&R service working closely with unsigned and independent artists in West Midlands area and beyond

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