As he’s kept himself as anonymous as a prolific musician attracting growing acclaim can possibly be in the Internet age, it’s fun to picture Blank Dogs’ Mike Sniper solely from his swelling stack of excellently ominous singles, albums and cassettes. Their vibrant gloom suggests a Brooklyn basement, shutters drawn and walls cracked, with battered amps piled up and floor space devoured by creeping wires. Within, a black-denim-clad lurker polishes off a 48-ounce Mountain Dew, triggering the formidable bounce of his basslines. Not until this 7”, billed to the Mayfair Set, did this conjured protagonist gain a love interest. Dee Dee, a Los Angeles librarian who records her own noted tracks as Dum Dum Girls, duets here, brightening things considerably. “Already Warm” carries traces of Blank Dogs’ murk, but her breezy lilt guides his blurs towards an unexpected swoon. Even better is “Desert Sun,” an odd dialogue between her chiming chirps and his fuzzy mumble, as the star-crossed vocal styles head for the beach. Daydreams of an as-of-yet imaginary full-length will inevitably follow