I’ve been a fan of the St. Louis based band Foxing for nearly 10 years now. With each passing release, the group has continued to form a distinct sound while also maintaining a level of unpredictability. This new album is no different.
Foxing’s breakout record The Albatross has become notorious in the overall Midwest emo scene of the early 2010s, as some die-hard fans of the genre continue to praise the album 10+ years later. Even if Foxing have evolved much past this point in their career, every time they release something new there’s always a couple comments complaining about how they “aren’t emo” anymore or that they’ve “sold out.” Which, to be fair, is something a lot of bands of their stature go through and these salty fans are just a very small minority of their overall supportive fanbase, myself included.
Their second album Dealer showed much growth in instrumental palettes, production and songwriting while their third album, and my personal favorite from the group, Nearer My God was nothing short of a modern day art-rock opus, reminiscent of acts like Radiohead, Wilco and The National.
Their fourth album Draw Down the Moon saw another shift in sound as the band went more toward an arena and pop rock aesthetic. As they started touring again post-lockdown in 2021, this album served as a great “back on the road” soundtrack with a lot of punchy hooks and catchy choruses without losing any of that indie Foxing edge.
Now with their fifth and self-titled album in 2024, Foxing is truly Foxing at their most raw, unfiltered and rejuvenated. This truly sounds like a reintroduction to the band I’ve loved for so long. All the different sounds and ideas they’ve toyed with over the years have seemingly collided with each other on this record and it’s just as chaotic and fruitful as that sounds.
Opening track “Secret History” is a prime example of this. Foxing’s past few albums have all opened in a similar way—lead singer Conor Murphy’s soft tenor voice with maybe a guitar or subtle synth in the background, which is then immediately followed by an immense release of tension, noise and maybe even some screaming. “Secret History” takes this trope to a whole other level, barely even giving the listener time to prepare for the hard drop of pure insanity. It might even make you want to drive into oncoming traffic.
Speaking of oncoming traffic, second single “Hell 99” has frequently been given that same description from fans and critics alike and it’s not hard to see why. As it’s also track two on the album, this barnburner of a song keeps the energy building until you’re about to pop a vein in your head. I could say similar things about the song “Spit” as well, but this time the production gets even grimier and darker with Murphy’s higher register and sweltering tone on full display.
Lead single “Greyhound” is when things finally start to simmer down a bit, but not by much as this track is an 8-minute whirlwind of clashing guitars and percussion carried by Murphy’s gentle yet dejected vocal performance. Lines like, “I’ve been feeling like I can’t come up for air for these last ten years,” stand out to me as Murphy has always written about his struggles with mental health, depression and anxiety and this album is no exception with even stronger and more clever metaphors and wordplay we have yet to get into.
“Greyhound” may even also be a reference to the opening track on The Albatross “Bloodhound,” as the two tackle similar subject matter with the use of dogs as imagery, something Murphy is no stranger to either.
“Cleaning” might be the lowest light on the album for me but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what it’s going for. I think the track is a much needed calming moment in the track list and the synth work and songwriting is definitely interesting. I just wish it offered a bit more dynamic contrast especially when placed next to all these other crazy tracks.
Things pick back up swiftly though with “Barking” and the hilariously hard-hitting “Kentucky McDonald’s.” While the former has one of the grooviest riffs on the entire record with even more lush production from guitarist Eric Hudson, the latter is another great example of the band’s ability to release tension while mixing acoustic elements with loud rock and hardcore.
“Looks Like Nothing” is one of the more emotive and lyrically dense tracks here. Reminiscent of older tracks like “Speak with the Dead” and “Five Cups,” the song sees Murphy once again sing about being unable to reach his goals, peace of mind and being stuck in limbo. “I wanted it to feel like…” is what Murphy yearns until the track concludes with an explosive, hellish wall of sound.
“Gratitude” is another up-tempo banger reminiscent of Draw Down the Moon but with grittier, more abrasive production and an ethereal breakdown courtesy of drummer Jon Hellwig. “Dead Cat” is another soothing interlude-type track that is complimented well by the electronic and post-rock influenced brain-melter “Dead Internet.” Both tracks serve as great climactic precursors to the final two tracks that tend to simmer down and fizzle out in quite a satisfying way.
“Hall of Frozen Heads” serves as the emotional, penultimate heart of this album, diving headfirst into the themes of self-doubt, loss and growth that have consumed the record thus far. This track is gorgeously driven by cascading piano melodies, building crescendos and Murphy’s bittersweet voice mixed with personal, poetic lyrics. Lines like “I’ve been living like a jellyfish, lappets dead and harmless,” and “This dried yolk and arm hair tangled, unshackled from shell and strangled,” remind me how songs can affect each individual listener in different ways. I’ll probably have a different interpretation of this song by next week but that’s what makes it so brilliant and strangely beautiful.
This track ends with a voice note of who I believe to be Murphy himself, as you hear a panting dog in the background and Murphy say “that’s a good boy.” If I’m not mistaken this could be a reference to Murphy’s own dog who unexpectedly passed nearly two years ago. In turn, this track, and possibly a few others, could be connected to the pain and grief he felt after losing such an important part of his life, a feeling I’m no stranger to myself.
The album closes with a rather understated yet lovely piano-led track. “Cry Baby” ends an album that was all over the place and bursting at the seams with a subtle, soft and reminiscent ballad on Murphy and the band’s growth, progress and time together. Maybe the most raw and vulnerable moment of the entire album, especially when it comes to how low the mix sounds with Murphy’s voice and the piano almost coming off like an unmastered demo or iPhone recording. The track also ends with background noise of the band members in the studio putting the album together and discussing certain tracks and ideas, adding that extra personal touch.
Given the band’s history of going out with a bang, I think this is a refreshing change of pace for them. Especially with how harsh of a listening experience it was up to this point, it’s nice for the listener to get a fulfilling period rather than a loud, quick exclamation point.
Foxing reminded me why I fell in love with this band in the first place and that they are capable of so much more than I ever imagined. One of the most exhausting yet exhilarating listening experiences I’ve had all year and another astounding edition to the group’s ever-evolving catalog.
My rating: 9.4/10
Listen to the album: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBU4FPrj3i4
Support the band: https://foxingtheband.com/
