Foxing initially won me over by being such a towering live band (if you haven’t seen them, seriously fix that ASAP), but their second album Dealer went the opposite direction of their shows. It goes into more somber, intimate territory, and it’s the best thing they’ve done yet. The album takes on soaring post-rock, tear-jerking piano ballads, downtempo glitch, melancholic horns and strings, and highly vivid lyrics, all brought together by some of the richest-sounding rock production of the year (courtesy of Minus the Bear/Mastodon producer Matt Bayles).
It’s an album that stops me in my tracks every time I listen to it, whether it’s Conor Murphy’s gorgeous falsetto or the weight of the keys on “Winding Cloth” or the sudden moments where the band sound twice as large as they are. There’s a certain type of record that comes along every now and then, when an indie band swings for the fences but maintains delicacy and evokes real emotion from the listener. I’m thinking of albums like The Antlers’ Hospice album and self-titled Bon Iver, and now I’d add Dealer to that list too.
The Fat Angel Sings 