Most bands I listened to between the ages of 16 and 23 will forever be special to me, but I think Foxing are a little extra special. When I first planned for this post, I didn’t anticipate to also be writing a eulogy. But alas, just slightly over a month before the 10 year anniversary of Dealer, Foxing announced an indefinite hiatus.
My earliest, and maybe strongest, memory of listening to Foxing is the fall/winter period of late 2016. I was 17, in high school, and very likely at least some level of depressed (note – I’m doing better now!). There was a week or two where Dealer was the only album I listened to. For hours on end, I played it over and over and over again. I would lie on my bed, or an occasion, my bedroom floor, stare at the ceiling, and drown in sound. Very sad, very gloomy, kind of depressing, but a reality for many slightly emo 17-year-olds. Dealer held me then.
In their excellent Audiotree session (the second one, though the first one is also great!), Eric, the band’s guitarist says “we’re a very heady band, we really enjoy those… far-out tones.” In times before the mainstream streaming services were available in Slovenia, I ripped the whole session from YouTube and loaded it onto my iPod, and that part would always made me chuckle a little.
And it is funny, but it’s also very true. Dealer is undoubtedly Foxing’s most mellow and atmospheric album. Every song grows and soars and swells. There are, indeed, many droning, far-out tones all over this album. I think this was the first album that made me appreciate music as a soundscape. Because it really feels like you are being completely engulfed and swayed by sound.
All my favourite albums are my favourites for two reasons, usually: one, because, to me, they are/were novel. Although I do listen to a lot of music, I was 17 and hadn’t heard every song in the world yet (forgive me!). I hadn’t heard nearly enough to be able to make intricate connections about influences. When I first heard Dealer, I’d never really heard any droning guitars before, or much music with long, sustained, ambient notes. It’s something I’m always painfully aware of, and whenever I think “there’s nothing else that sound like this”, I am usually proven wrong once I learn hear more music, of course. But this album was my first introduction to slightly more atmospheric and drone-y rock music
And two, because they are singular. They don’t exist in a world or league or whatever of their own, but they rather they create one. Dealer is a contained, singular, finished experience. Nothing the band has made before or after it, sounds like Dealer, but all of it (Dealer included) sounds like Foxing, always. I also genuinely don’t think there was anything in that scene that sounded like Dealer when it first came out. And thus, again, novelty. It was their, and my, foray into a more mature, more indie, more post-rock sound.
The opening track, Weave, is a bridge between their debut album and this one, both in sound and lyrics. It is somewhat lighter and more uplifting-sounding than what is to come. It’s more closely reminiscent of a track like Den Mother, or Quietus, or even The Medic. The lyrics on Weave circle back to the lyrics from songs on Albatross; “Drained out a tunnel in an albatross / Now I’m haunted by the bird” are a callback to the album title, as well as the line “When the tide rolled in there was nothing left / But an albatross hanging from my neck” in Bloodhound, the opening track, and “Making a living off of drowning / Leaves me one step in the wrong” references the repeating “I’m not waving, I’m drowning” line from the song Inuit. (P.s. – the albatross motif finds its way onto their 4th album as well, on the song Beacons)
Most of the album’s themes revolve around love, shame, and faith. It’s difficult for me to pick favourites because every note of every song on this album is seared into my brain forever. But if I had to, it would be:
The Magdalene, which I first liked because of the drum part during the first chorus, when it goes ch-k-ch-k-chk, at around 1:03.
Night Channels, a song about infidelity and Catholic guilt, but also with a gorgeous music video. It builds up and up and up, and Connor screaming “Future love, don’t fall apart” is a perfect, desperate peak.
Indica, perhaps the most straight-forward, but also the heaviest and most devastating song on the album. Written by the band’s then-bassist Josh Coll about his experience serving in Afghanistan, he grapples with the guilt and PTSD induced by his time overseas. There isn’t much being wrapped in metaphor here, it’s an absolutely crushing song. “If so, do I haunt their parent’s dreams? / If so am I summarized by sounds of young lung screams.”
Redwoods, which was written after Connor, the singer, visited his grandparents, who passed not too long after. It’s a song of goodbyes and separations. “Find a reason not to leave.”
Foxing also hold a special place in the timeline of my life in The Netherlands. Their third album, Nearer My God, was released on Friday 10th of August 2018, which happened to be the day my dad and I embarked on a two-day car drive across Europe to move my life into a new country. This album soundtracked the 12-hours it took us to make the 1000 kilometres from Maribor to Rotterdam.
Coincidentally, the band toured the album in the summer of the following year. Even more coincidentally, their show date was July 15th, a date I still hold very near and dear to my heart to this day, for various reasons. The one worth mentioning in the context of this story is that July 15th 2016 was the first time I’d ever been to The Netherlands! Three years later, I saw Foxing in Paradiso, and then flew back home for the summer the next day. I started my first semester here with Foxing, and i finished it with Foxing. And so it all came back full circle.
(The first time I saw Foxing was on April 1st 2017, but that date holds no particular significance to me. It was a very cool show though!)
If Foxing’s debut, Albatross, granted them a place in the emo canon, I believe Dealer cemented it, and every subsequent album reaffirmed it. It’s hard to imagine 4th wave emo, as a genre, without Foxing. Hell, it’s hard to imagine most of what came after in the emo/alt/rock genre without Foxing. (Even though, I must admit, I did check out of the whole scene around 2018/19. But I do dip back in every now and again just to see what’s up)
And as much as I had always wished that Foxing would make Dealer 2, in hindsight, that would never have been possible. And that’s for the better! What a shame it would have been to have two Dealers, when the one is already nearly perfect, and never have Nearer My God or Foxing. It would have been a great travesty.
Foxing are (were?) really and truly one of the best to ever do it, and they’re leaving us with a discography where every single album is worth your time. Brooklyn Vegan ranked their albums “from least best to most best”, which is a title I do agree with because they’re basically all great. There’s a clear evolution, growth and progression within their discography. Each one of the records could not have existed without the the ones preceding it, but Foxing never got stuck in their sound and hardly ever played it safe. And every single time it paid off. Each next record was an unexpected surprise, and each one of their new releases was the best album they’ve ever made.
Foxing are going out on a total career high, with their 2024 self-titled Foxing, being widely regarded as the best Foxing album.
Godspeed, Foxing. I hope we hear from you again someday.