Now THIS is what you call a review! Dave from Fungal Punk has written the most in-depth album review we’ve ever had. Positives, negatives and all things in between. We salute you, sir. Check out the review below – we recommend you read it out loud!. Make a brew – you’ll need it!
Gyppo juices and folky fluids run through the veins of this erudite and highly competent band whom pour forth a sound that is far from unique but is a much welcome blast of refreshing class in an underground environment where many go to kick the bollocks into a state of arousal rather than rely on careful, considered touches that result in equalling highs. Fuelled by overspilled energy from a land of Swami this is very choice musicianship and takes me by the hand into an arena I am always happy to dawdle in. I need not prolong the intro, I have many tunes to cut open and give a verdict to and so, with the sonic scalpel at the ready and lugs agape I slice inwards and into the bowels of the noise. Oh just to add the band were formed back in 2010 around the rea known as Keighley – a name that brings back memories of 1970’s late night Rugby League shows – oooh errr me odd shaped balls!
First up and the snapping jaws of ‘Cops And Robbers’ a first class bout of feistily strung music that erupts many times over into an incandescent montage of flaming blooms that sway hard in a self made breeze of fluent acoustic enunciation. The exactitude of the composition is instantaneously rousing and effective with the punctuated invasions liable to do more than just get those tootsies tapping. The noise has a noble and breezy gusto and with an accomplished vocal option taken this opening chunk of sound will satisfy many, many hungry music gorgers. From one A-grade exhibition of exemplary sonic creation we plunge into the equally outstanding ‘Fidel Rocero’, a pleasant well-collected meander into fields of peerless subtlety and tranquil tonality that will quell any uncertainty you may have conjured up in your doubting noggins. The dew kissed guitar sparkle, the easy travelling drift and the serenity saturated hang loose oral offerings all ease their way between your cerebral sheets and make merry comforts and sincere sonical canoodlings. Tepid but with a tendency to slowly burn at any resistance this most mouth-watering morsel is one to chew on continuously to get that full on spicy flavour. ‘Isabella’ is a song I first reviewed on a compilation, which one I can’t remember but I do know that it made a massive impression and brought much arousal to my noise heavy soul. A crisp and well attended bout of more brilliance with the slightly melancholic mixed with the mundane and somewhat marvellously injected with a winning strain of hope and refusal to lose. The whole trinket of sound is worn with satisfying sincerity by each and every dabbler and I sink into the warm comforting confines of this song and snooze to the rhythm with a wake up call ringing with true rewarding success. For me this thirst thriving episode of perfection fist fucks the fact that this crew are the real deal and are doused in melodic know how and attention to deal insight – believe me, I bullshit not!
‘Alien’ has a tentative approach via the verseage and hiccups its way forward in the most uncomfortable fashion displayed thus far. I await a cruised moment and get it delivered my way through a simplistic chorus that floats away and raises the song into higher echelons of praise. I juggle the liked and slightly disliked around my considering palate and try to make a decision. I examine the precise music, the gossamer touches within the more obvious weavings and then throw it all up in the air and make a judgement of undecided but convinced by many parts – oh bugger. ‘Do I Waste My Time’ seems the most pertinent question at the mo and I examine the contents with eager beaver digits and come up with a song that has, maybe, the least effect of the lot but, if taken for the curious dainty that it is, it will no doubt appeal to a large glut of listeners. A fractured affair that takes a little adjusting to and another I find myself unsure of, this time with a swing to the negative whereas the chasing ‘Rioters Queue Here’ stamps its passion into my head and leaves no doubt as to its quality and intent. The dramatic undulations, seasoned naturalness, earthy and passionate eruptions that continually rouse the inner rabble make this an agreeable discharge and one that re-sparks any waning vigour and wandering attention. There is a robust essence built within this tune, a thoroughbred determination and a wide shouldered stance taken that imposes itself and leaves a grand shadow over your outlook.
A batch of 3, ‘Jinxed’ leads the way, and does so with a pronounced crush of tones before hopping along on a see-sawed undulation of vitality that sees much fiddling, flailing and fidgeting. At times we hit more sliding whooshes and are carried into a most refreshing zephyr whereas at other points we are swung back and forth with much dynamic energy. And still the impetus is high…but, time for a cool down, a chance to walk away from the lofty animation and to sit back in a sun-kissed arena and soak up some solar sonica that eases many pains. ‘One By Two By Three’ is a floating caress of a number that stretches the tonsils onto plateaus new with a greater rush eventually had but with emphasis still on the casual. The only gripe I have here is with the vocal aspect and whether it is as icicle clear as it should be. It seems deliberately murked, definitely left grubbily cavernised and as a result the hit level falls. A nice alteration of acousticised orchestration but along with the vocal blip I feel that a full dramatic sensation is not fully achieved and the running time is too long thus the song drops from a rating of good to just above average. The third breakdown in this lump of three is known as ‘Mountains’, a dungaree’d jig around with finger jugs drained, tootsies knackered and breeches dusted. A sharp jive ass jaunt that has sunshine strings abounding and bean jump skin work in constant supply. When pace increases the gob needs to find that little extra and here it does – and still maintains a lucidity and gratifying edge. A thoroughly captivating piece this that has many admirable touches and clean cut intersections that blend and compliment in equal measure. Foxes Faux at their best here, riding on the back of their own waves with aplomb and bright, shiny sanguinity – go, go, go.
‘Tether’ is a more languid droplet from the bough of tonality with a smoothness and somewhat reposed ambience floating through the entire liquid donation. Construction wise the consistency is pliable and less firm as found elsewhere on the CD and there is a certain retro romanticism that will appeal to the literary leaning listeners who like nothing better than to read of windswept moors, emotive involvements and bleak backdrops that sit heavy on the heart. Hey, all I can give is the sensations that arise and hope you fall into the drift. The judgement is of a less effective song but one that has depth to the character. ‘Fisticuffs With Magic Ben’ is a more sturdy affair and more assured of its design with a chopping accent pounding beneath the cloud floated vocals. A counter-balancing mix that opposes throughout and staggers through parts with unorthodox routine. It shouldn’t work, it is on the cusp of over-complication but, thanks to the mastery of the mode by hands heavily tattooed with talent, we get another ditty to dissect and delight in. I am not too sure about the pugilistic slant in the midst of the tune but it will almost certainly work ‘live’. ‘Liars’ is a lesson in how to create magnificent cacophony bordering on classical status with such natural aplomb. The impetus, the mix, the gentle rise in all passions and the whole damn application come superbly together to make a masterpiece of triumphant excellence that takes this CD to a new resounding zenith. Just admire the nuances, the care taken and the fragile twists that need to be managed just right so as to avoid a song not meeting the 100% success level. A choice moment, a vessel to highlight the bands brilliance – and why not indeed?
We close with the hay bale, rumpy pumpy, arse flinging chirpiness of ‘Banjoutro’, a high flown instrumental that has its breeches set alight, its arse kicked and its belly filled with moonshine. No need for a great autopsy here – just kick yer feet, reel around and have fun. A rum free-for-all to close a thoughtful CD of abundant artistry – wheeee!
Foxes Faux are quality, are a band who can jump in and out of many boxes, play their stuff and leave faces smiling and ears ringing with unadulterated pleasure. I have still to catch em’ ‘live’, they are one of those elusive eels that come so close and yet slip away just as I am about to grasp them. I have my mitts on, they grip firm tha’ knows – Foxes Faux watch out!