Is This All There Is - On Foxing's "Foxing"

by editor Michele Catalano

Foxing is currently my favorite band. They’ve been hovering up there for a long time, but recently it became apparent to me that I love them more than any other band or artist. The way they constantly reinvent themselves, and the way they make the records they want to make without boundaries, without thoughts of singles and airplay, make me admire them as well as love them. Every record they’ve made sounds completely different from the one before it, and they have, in turn, gotten better with each one.

Foxing’s fifth album, simply titled Foxing, was released in September 2024. I still listen to it every day. Sometimes I start with it in the morning, screaming along in my head, cannonballing into the day; sometimes it is blasting in my living room at noon, or softly playing in my airpods at midnight. It seems like it’s always there, waiting for me. 

Foxing is the most harrowing, angry, depressing, hopeful, sweeping, epic album I’ve heard in a long time. I don’t quite remember being gripped by a record so immediately and so profoundly as I was the first time I listened. The lyrics are dark but thoughtful; the music pounding, cathartic, yet also soothing. Eric Hudson provides us with some of the best screams (Is this all there is? Fuck fuck fuck.) while Conor Murphy digs deep into his emotions to give us the best singing of his career.

The screaming of Constant fatigue constant fatigue constant fatigue on “Hell 99” plays in my head over and over. I scream along with it when it’s playing because holy shit, I am fatigued. The world fatigues me. Life fatigues me. “Hell 99” is not the best song on the album (that honor belongs to “Gratitude”), but it is the rawest song, and I live for music that feels raw and vulnerable. Here, Foxing is at their most vulnerable but also at their most powerful.

[me and my daughter with foxing at looney tunes records]

Overall, Foxing is, in baseball terms, a perfect game. It’s flawless. It’s show stopping. It’s a team effort, every member of the band shines. The fact that it makes me feel, it makes me think, it makes me want to scream both out of catharsis and despair, makes it a mainstay; one that took me through fall and winter and wrapped me in its cocoon while I sought shelter from the world.

I hope the world takes notice of this band. I want them to have wild success. I want them to be a household name. But that’s not going to happen because Foxing does not make albums with the intention of finding fame. They make records that speak to their lives and the lives of others. They make music that is not really commercially viable, and that’s kind of what I love most about them. They keep doing what they want to do, how they want to do it (this record was completely self-made by the band and released on their own label), on their own terms. That I’ve loved everything they’ve put out is incidental. What I love most is listening to a band that is clearly on top of their game.

Foxing is a whole album. You listen to it all at once, to get the gist of it. It’s like watching a play of someone’s slow descent into despair, and while that play might not sound entertaining, Foxing manages to take that scenario and make you want even more of it. If you are going to listen, put on headphones and be prepared for 56 minutes of pure power.

It’s been a little more than six months since the album was released. It’s melded itself into my soul, so I carry it around with me everywhere. I’ve had time to live with Foxing—to listen deeply and intently, to use it as background music while working out, to analyze the lyrics for my own amusement, to fall more and more in love with it. I have my favorites“Gratitude” is probably the best song they ever wrote—-but each song is part of a whole act; a massive, sweeping screaming-as-arias rock opera that will leave you feeling utterly spent yet invigorated. Long live Foxing.

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