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woah sometimes crazy things happen and i have no way to explain them

ill never forget Favorite track: Every Window in Alcatraz Has a View of San Francisco (II).
jimmy_baby thumbnail
jimmy_baby I put your music on my old roomie's spotify playlist and he texted me later that day with a phat thumbs up emoji. Love ya'll and the sounds you're making! Favorite track: I Experienced Ego Death on an NDE Thread.
A.T.L thumbnail
A.T.L Brutal. I love it. Been playing it while I've been writing lately and it keeps me motivated. Favorite track: I Experienced Ego Death on an NDE Thread.
suhrim777 thumbnail
suhrim777 How far can emotions go before the turn bad? "III" shows how far they can go. Yes, this is a beauty full of emotions. Love, hate and depression combined in one musical experience. You have to love it. Favorite track: Every Window in Alcatraz Has a View of San Francisco (II).
Eli Henson
Eli Henson thumbnail
Eli Henson I can't get enough of this. It's such an emotional, diverse expression of emotion and musicianship. If you're remotely into this sort of music, this album can't disappoint. Favorite track: The Revenge of the Chicken From Outer Space.
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  • Cassette + Digital Album

    Foxtails - III hand dubbed on transparent silver foil cassette w/ outer jewel case sleeve

    Lyrics and artwork on glossy insert.

    Every tape comes with free Emocat pin.

    Includes unlimited streaming of III via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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flowers perched on the staircase down inside the manor one lone fly multiplied by fears and doubts just shy of screaming infest just shy of leaving flesh forever stinging shivering, slithering from the feeling of their wings shattering on you thousands of tiny legs build a monstrosity it eats you alive it eats you alive thousands of tiny legs build a monstrosity it eats you alive
i've been raised to believe that all creatures deceive how have i gone this long grab me by the throat throw me to the floor i will never see the days again i will never be the same again the gift of guilted reprieve the lack of a sense of relief how have i gone this long voided and alone inside the walls i roam staying put for days among the fog and haze his speech is just the same taking pride in numbered days all these broken pieces that have longed to dissipate (inside a room the tiles spin the bed is eaten by the basement) all these broken pieces that have longed to dissipate (and the pipes fall to the ground and i am alone) dissipate inside a room the tiles spin staying put for days i will never be the same again
i am just a black hole sucking up all the stars in the sky i will stay here against my will and yours weak lungs and racing hearts can only drown and what may lie at the bottom of the sea shall be my salvation lungs filled with doubts and distress have frozen solid with fear presence of a ghost, voice of a mute i'd rather be left to rest
if i knew avoidance, reluctance, amongst other things subtlety, hidden means, a malicious smile avoidance, reluctance, amongst other things the perception of dialogue the stifling of idealization in my eyes, i have found a higher sense of self what is the mind without these-- pathetic inventions? a perception of dialogue the subtlety of idolization if i knew ridicule if i knew ridicule how abused avoidance, reluctance, amongst other things subtlety, hidden means, a malicious smile the perception of dialogue a stifling of idealization the means to recollect the memories time distorts the memories time distorts-- have locked themselves in my bedroom a perception of dialogue the subtlety of idolization pretentious, in essence no means of apprehension pretentious, in essence no such thing as ascension a senseless resentment no sense of reprehension such demonic structure reminds me of my father
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y and z now i know my abc's next time won't u sing with me!
in catharsis, i am outspoken, lively, purpose-driven overstating, with lack of gesturing, inconceivable, irretrievable a resonant lie volatile eyes convoluted and shy created to sympathize the pressure to exist is asphyxiating compelling illuminating i am restraining humanity how it loves to see me preconceive as each word escapes a trifling throat now dark eyes i will find the ties to myself and i now will you know when the time comes? now will you learn to lie when it's right? dark eyes, will you know to lie when it's right? in retrospection a need for dissection altruistic pest, relentless mess growing jaded with confession defensive defenseless defensive defenseless defensive defenseless you fucking hypocrite
running away from the self running-- in these shorted lights the equity blinds to have dignity; to have to remind; myself every fucking time my body caves in that it was pathetic to think it could ever stand a chance in the first place now when i fall through i'll think of you and how you've convinced me that these weak strings could ever keep me here
now the wind can tear me to shreds and my bones turn to dust why should i keep standing if i don't even have a spine? and my bones turn to-- well i suppose that this is how it goes honey you should know that i don't let these things go and to keep me here is to kill off your air and your lungs will be mine as our tracheae entwine thought you knew sometime ago that this never was a joke i tend to lack vision even amongst the stars why can't someone look in my eyes without tearing them apart? slow regressions from now to then slow progressions from if to when i am both terrified of everything i am and everything i will never be i'll stay up til sunlight screams for me to go to fucking sleep i guess you suit me well, you suit me well, you suit me well my condolences for never forgetting your name it's stitched in my brain so that i'll always feel the pain cascades of puke and blood fell down the drain wax and wane, wax and wane along with past daydreams of the sun's embrace wax and wane, wax and-- found naive to a certain extent and i will never know why i'm sick of clean skin and painless touches why can't i just get what i deserve and to keep me here is to kill off your air and your lungs will be mine as our tracheae entwine i'd slit my throat with a smile on my face if it meant i could ever get out (and to feel them in my flesh was a cutting awareness i wish i never had learned) at 2 am i woke up drenched in sweat to feel the moths taking up the air (if only i could breathe here, if only i could leave here) it must be nice not to know exactly how it feels to get raped from the inside out and i might as well just cry and i cried on your chest


ECR 005
Foxtails - III

Connecticut's Foxtails present their most refined and polished release to date. This album consists of a mix of new unheard material and a handful of refined and reworked older songs from their days as a four piece.

The jazz and math influences are clear - The guitars range from twinkly tapping to the kind of chords that have numbers in their names. The bass is consistent, going from spidery walking lines in instrumental sections to pulsing runs accentuating the action. The drums are technical without being overbearing, and go from gentle to violent at the drop of a pin as the songs call for it.

Vocalist Megan's voice rises to the forefront; she ranges from a gentle croon to an impressive scream that when pushed (and it gets pushed) becomes a soul piercing shriek that will change your outlook on life.

The production on this album is excellent (Will Killingsworth, Dead Air Studios) and the gentle instrumental moments of the album retain the intimate live feeling as if the band were playing for you in an attic.

The lyrics are dark and personal and sometimes stand in contrast to the prettiness of some of the sections. A clearly intentional choice that serves to drive home the gravity of the topical matter of some of the songs.

We would be reluctant to outright compare them to other musicians, but after listening to this album several times our observations are: there were a few moments where instrumentally we were reminded of Saetia. Some of the quieter jazzy sections exude dusty feelings of nostalgia reminiscent of some forgotten Grizzly Bear b-side. Although their singing voices aren't the most similar, Megan's ability to strongly emote while singing made us think of Dolores O'Riordan of The Cranberries.


released March 2, 2017

foxtails is:
megan c - vocals, bass
jon b - guitar, vocals
mike l - the thing that is loud with sticks

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Will Killingsworth at Dead Air Studios.


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foxtails Connecticut

bunch of fucked up kids from ct

ig/fb: @foxtailsct

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