Track 33: Gratitude - Foxing

There are two songs I’ve probably re-listened to the most in 2024: Gratitude and another off of Foxing’s new self-titled album, Hell 99, a blistering, exhausted, loud as damned thunder rant about the world being stuck in a cultural void far worse than Y2K; a black hole of emptiness including Carson Daly, Limp Bizkit, and friends talking shit about you once you leave the room. Foxing guitarist Eric Hudson screams like all of that hit him like a ton of bricks:

This is all there is! This is all there is! FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUCK!

Later, lead singer Conor Murphy sings the lyrics I have thought of the most this year, watching our countries two political parties argue who can support a foreign genocide with more funding and tenacity.

The days become a massive green sargassum void of meaning /
The minutes have deflated in their value next to nothing /
I thought the future would be old things set on fire /
But now everything worth immolating is insured /

To which Hudson answers with the following, screeching repeated refrain:

CONSTANT FATIGUE, CONSTANT FATIGUE
CONSTANT FATIGUE, CONSTANT FATIGUE
CONSTANT FATIGUE, CONSTANT FATIGUE
CONSTANT FATIGUE, CONSTANT FATIGUE

only to have the song morph into a downtempo dirge that has been shifting subtly under the whole track the entire time, with Murphy once again asking - is this all there is? Only then to answer, “never mind, never mind. Oh, it’s fine, oh its’ fine.”

Uhh. Wow. Foxing is an art rock emo band who have never sounded this frustrated, pissed off, angry, LOUD. WTF (what the foxing?) is going on here?

Well, it’s hard out there for a minorly successful DIY band, and Foxing has been at this for over ten years. And it also turns out this record nearly broke the band, which is one of the reasons it’s self titled.

But the track on the mixtape isn’t about Hell 99, although it’s inclusion is warranted because it’s expression helps set-up the context for an even better song later on the record: Gratitude.

Gratitude isn’t as in-your-face or attention grabbing as Hell 99, but in some ways it’s the answer to the anger and frustration of the previous track. It’s the imaginary anecdote. When Murphy sings in the chorus:

I wanna hear god yelling at me /
I wanna live my life like a memory /
I wanna sow ragе into my brain /
I want wrath written into my DNA /
I wanna be god yelling at mе /
I wanna cleanse my sense of solidity /
I wanna lose me immediately /
I wanna lose my body entirely /
Give me snapping of the brain /

It’s like he’s short circuiting due to all the frustration and emptiness held over from living in Hell 99. The song literally distorts his vocals and many of the instruments in the final minute as the song comes to a frencized climax, clashing sounds together as if literally doesn’t know what to do with itself. In short, Hell 99 is how trying to live these days feels, and Gratitude is what you desperately want to do about it.

Hudson, who produced the album, fought to exclude the song from the album, but the rest of the band disagreed to the point where they almost broke up over this track. Hudson admits to “hate mixing” this song because he just didn’t get it, and finally nailed it after five days. His efforts are appreciated. Gratitude is a song I’ll continue to look back at when I have that overwhelming feeling that everything is wrong and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s beyond the sound of frustration, it’s the sound of knowing everything is broken and feeling absolutely powerless to do anything about it.

For the encapsulation of that feeling alone, I for one am extremely thankful.

Click here for the Infinite Mixtape on Spotify.
Click here for the Infinite Mixtape on Apple Music.