4 posts tagged “foxhole”
This is a little old, but was so humbling and interesting that I figured I could bring it back up in this forum.
Really, this has little to nothing to do with Foxhole. Strictly speaking, the Southern sextet is a straight-up post-rock band. As such, Derek Holt, Greg Leppert, Adam Moore, Justin Shepherd, Chris Vicari, and Brian Toppenberg rely on traditional rock instrumentation arranged in orderly compositions with varied ambient effects for good measure. It’s a well-known formula and, by most accounts, there’s nothing inherently religious about it.
Sure, Foxhole recorded their debut full-length, We the Wintering Tree, in the sanctuary of Kentucky’s Westminster Bible Church, but that was, according to trumpeter/keyboardist/engineer Greg Leppert, for explicitly acoustic reasons:
“[T]here’s something about the high ceilings and simplicity of the architecture of [one-room country churches] that makes anything you put in there sound rich, and I think that natural affect lends an honesty to the songs.”
Good point. Want big sound on a small budget? Then record your album in a natural amplifier. It’s an undeniably effective technique, as We the Wintering Tree deftly proves. Using little more than direct mics on their amps and a pair of condenser mics set up in the pews, Foxhole create an expansive, textured sound that not even the slickest studio production could hope to accurately reproduce. The drums pulse and pound from just left of center, bass throbs to the back, trumpet blares left, keys shimmer, guitars wail, hum, and shine on all sides—all with the faintest hints of natural delay and echo as the sound grows out from the speakers, careens off the rafters, walls, and pews, and is finally caught by the condenser mics and, post-production, channeled back out to the listener’s ears. I highly recommend a decent pair of headphones, or long-distance car ride, to get the full effect.
It is, as Leppert asserts, an honest sound, devoid of studio shenanigans and sonic haberdashery. And, to belie the stridency of my introduction, it is not “preachy.” There is no grand and bombastic profession of faith, no fire-and-brimstone gospel message delivered from a soapbox or a pulpit, no attempts at coercive injections of orthodoxy or doctrine into an otherwise-secular form—the pop-rock swap-out of “baby” for “Jesus,” if you will.
Then again, Foxhole’s compositions are, with few exceptions, non-vocal. As such, it becomes increasingly difficult to discern a message (or the lack thereof) without a voice to listen to or a lyric sheet to read along with. Still, even in the face of this ambiguity, I initially had difficulty shaking the suspicion (or merely the assumption) that We the Wintering Tree is a devoutly religious record.
Y’know the whole “no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole” saying? That has a lot to do with it.
At the very least, there are some fairly biblical images in Foxhole’s song titles, such as the subtly salvific, Judeo-Christian nods from “The End of Dying,” “Lent (v.),” and “Lamentation.” Strong indicators, those.
Furthermore, I cannot help but think that penultimate track “A Lion in Winter / Long Live the King” has something to do with C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, & the Wardrobe, which is itself filled to the brim with Christian allegory. To whit: the cycle of death and rebirth, the restorative power of self-sacrifice, the eternal struggle between good and evil, the loss of innocence, the redemptive ability of grace, and the promise of salvation.
Admittedly, my own Christian experiences are doubtlessly colouring my interpretations—there are vocal and auditory cues which I have, over twenty-four years of life as a Roman Catholic, been trained to respond to by rote. Call and response prayers, professions of faith, psalms, hymns, and what have you: these are not entirely rational processes, and can almost be reduced to automatic, Pavlovian reflexes. Given Stimulus A, you will experience Predicted Response B. Behold the human mind in the thrall of learned patterns of behaviour.
However personal it may seem, my pointing to such religious themes, experiences, and their associated behaviours is not entirely off the mark. In the same way that organized religious practices rely on learned familiarity and communal participation to engender a higher state of collective consciousness in their congregations, Foxhole’s We the Wintering Tree taps into a transcendent musical wavelength of nonverbal communication, wherein the emphatic highs and suppressed lows of a composition elicit emotional correlatives from the listener.
Really, that’s what good music is supposed to do: enlighten, enliven, and excel the human spirit.
Still, there is an odd familiarity to the rush and release of Foxhole’s layered guitars, the building up and breaking down of their rhythms, the celestial blare and somber bleat of their trumpet. But this familiarity is not to be confused with commonness; despite surface similarities to the sonic swells of fellow post-rock acts like Mogwai, Russian Circles, Unwed Sailor, and Explosions in the Sky, Foxhole maintains a unique vision inWe the Wintering Tree.
And this vision is, in a word, beautiful. The trumpet alone helps to set Foxhole apart, and its blaring growth in album-opener “A Series of Springs and Falls” is reservedly simple yet damnably affecting. Then there is the quick high-hat to bass drum transition at the beginning of “The End of Dying,” which leads to a pulse-pounding, guitar-shredding movement that eventually segues to calming snare and tom underneath interweaving strands of trumpet, rounded bass riffs, and echoing guitar arpeggios. As far as one-two punches go, We the Wintering Tree’s first two songs are a veritable knockout.
But, as moving as We the Wintering Tree is instrumentally, it is the underlying theme of the album that truly stands out. Rather, it is the ability of the music to effectively express this theme which is remarkable. Accounted in full in the album’s liner notes, Foxhole’s We the Wintering Tree is intended as a summary of the joys and sorrows that come with the changing seasons, the onset of spring at the end of winter, and the yearly “promise of new and better life […] in better gardens, under better light.”
Again, there are lots of typically Christian keywords there, not to mention the explicit acknowledgement of the whole seasonal death/rebirth motif that serves as the thematic backbone to We the Wintering Tree. Moreover, there is this simple statement at the end of the band’s collective thank-you to supporters, friends, and family:
“This album, with all its imperfections, is both an expression of our love for Jesus Christ and a response to his beauty.”
Doubtless, some may balk at such an abrupt statement of religious devotion—my initial reaction was a combination of startled amazement and grinning self-congratulation (e.g., “What!? I knew it!”).
But, as I have already stated, neither Foxhole nor We the Wintering Tree are preachy in their music or their storytelling, a fact that is duly underscored by the reserved, footnote-like manner of the above quote. The overall tone of the album is mournful and tragic, a near-wordless tale of permeable loss set up against a faint glimmer of hope: the constant struggle of spring against winter, life against death, where nature serves as an allegory to religion.
This alone is an interesting and poignant inversion, considering that religion and myth have often been used allegorically to explain the mysterious forces of nature. But I digress.
Following the album’s forceful introduction and the bleak, unsettlingly angular riffs and heavy-handed percussion of “Dead Rimes,” the harsh gales of We the Wintering Treesettle and abate into “Spectacle”’s spacious melodies and quiet vocals:
“What was it about the look in my eyes / that made you stretch your arm to my unworthy hand?”
To further assuage the theologically squeamish, this is the closest you’ll get to a devotional statement in Foxhole’s songs, and the only way it can rightly be seen as religious is in the context of the album’s liner notes. Or, alternatively, Michelangelo's work in the Sistine Chapel. Not that I should need to apologize for the band, but still—and I cannot emphasize this enough—do not discredit Foxhole or We the Wintering Treeon the basis of your own beliefs. That’s just plain ignorant behaviour, and I’ll have none of it, thank you very much.
Built off piano, glockenspiel, and light guitar melodies, “Lent (v.)” serves as a speed bump between the otherwise too-similar chord progressions at the end of “Spectacle” and the beginning of “At Right Angles.” The latter plays off an almost verse/chorus/verse arrangement (sans lyrics, naturally), with its initial guitar riffs building into a revisited trumpet refrain that serves as the song’s central phrase, eventually augmenting itself with prominent bass and hammer-ons for a guitar-heavy breakdown.
Like the soundtrack to a déjà vu hallucination or a sepia-toned flashback, “A Children’s Canto” introduces itself with faint background noises under slow-played guitar: unintelligible vocal burbling, ringing ambient effects, and drums like booming thunder. It’s all very Godspeed You! Black Emperor, really.
“Lamentation” fits its title understandably well: in spite of its upbeat arpeggios and prominent percussion, the mood is one of suffering and dismay, with forlorn trumpeting alongside guitar segments that alternate between reflective, settled chimes and furiously abrasive riffs. Lasting over eight minutes, it even begins to feel a bit like a funeral procession: a plodding, sorrowful trip from eulogy to internment. Also, in an odd instance of found-sound effects, “Lamentation” peters out into a chorus of layered saws that gradually rips and roars to a deafening peak before cutting back abruptly and disappearing into the background of “A Lion in Winter / Long Live the King.”
Another slow and steady build-up to a rousing breakdown, “A Lion in Winter / Long Live the King” affects the tone of a military march, its snare tattoo guiding unseen soldiers through field and forest while echoing guitar riffs, trumpet, and ride offer an unnerving preview of the coming battle. Quietly, a muted trumpet heralds an abrupt change in pace, as forceful toms, bass drum, and explosive guitar break the calm and sound the charge. Cue the imagined slow-motion battle sequence, cut to scenes of widespread destruction, and end with triumphant horns failing into odd synth drone.
Album-ender “Through Bone and Marrow” dials it back for yet another sorrowful tune that, despite its voluminous combination of percussion, guitar, and trumpet, never feels especially victorious. But it is not the sound of defeat, either—resigned though it may seem, the ringing, solitary guitar outro ends on a high note, literally and figuratively. Things may not be appreciably better in whatever world this song bears witness to, but the worst would appear to be over, if only for the time being.
But that would make perfect sense, as We the Wintering Tree is not meant as a singular, encapsulated event. Rather, it is a meditation on, and an interpretation of, the continuous cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth. Every victory is tenuous, every setback transient. There are highs and there are lows, and we, the wintering tree, merely bear witness to their passing.
Whether or not you take that as a statement of faith is up to you, but there is no denying the truth of it.
I'd like to take a moment to feature some of the better -- or more interesting, at least -- photos I took a couple weeks back on tour. Foxhole and Interstates went out together on the road for about 10 days -- by no means grand for a tour, but it was really saying something for us. It was our best tour yet, and I think the added friendship we had already established in Interstates made it all the more fun. I was pulling a double shift every night by playing bass for both Foxhole and Interstates, and a few nights I felt like my back was going to cave in on me. My bass is rather old and heavy. But in the end I think my back was stronger, or at least less given to complaint.
Without further ado...
Show 2: Bowling Green @ the Capitol Theatre w/ Heartwarmer
Show 8: Kansas City, MO @ Main St. Cafe w/ many bands.
When I got home from Europe, my family had a party. They called it "Thanksgiving". They had actually pushed back the holiday just for me. I didn't have much time for picture-taking because I was too busy eating and making merry. But here are the few:
Later that weekend, we had that party you saw video footage of. Since we were all there, the re-grouped Foxhole took the opportunity to take band photos. Here we are putting on our best:
This week I had another absudity worth sharing, this one very funny. A student of mine from the 7th class (in Gymnasium there are 8 classes, so this kid is probably about 17 or 18 years old) has been hounding me for a few months about having a "jam session" in which I bring my bass and he his guitar, and we "jam". Of course, always willing to oblige a youngin, I said sure early on and we started putting it off. The main reason for putting it off was that neither of us have amplifiers, even though we both play electric instruments. Lukas (you may remember him from my "poker night" post a couple months ago) didn't quite see the problem at first. He figured we could both jam on electric bass and guitar without amplifiers, no problem. This was my first clue into what I would be getting into this week. For anyone unaware, an unamplified electric guitar is hardly worth playing, even moreso an unamplified electric bass. The higher strings you can hear a little, but once you hit that low "E" string on the bass, you've really got to listen hard to pick out which notes are being plucked.
Finally, after several detailed explanations of the problem, Lukas started to understand our dilemma. He soon afterwards had a bright idea, however. There are amplifiers at the school we could use if we talk the teachers into letting us use the music room. Since I'm a teacher (sort of) myself, it wasn't much of a hurdle to jump. We got access to the room this past Monday and started setting up the equipment until...
Lukas realized he had forgot his guitar cable! As great as it was to have a guitar amp there to play through, it doesn't do one much good without a cable. So while my bass was amped, Lukas had no way to really screech and wail on the guitar like he wanted. We decided to press on, nonetheless.
VERY early on in the jam session, though, before Lukas even really strummed a chord or plucked a few notes on the guitar himself, he handed the guitar to me and told me to play the songs I knew on guitar. I've explained to him before, and did so again just then, that I'm not a guitar player. I know a few chords and can piece them together to play and sing my favorite songs about love or God or murder, but that doesn't make me a guitarist. I'm a bassist, if you want to go around assigning names. Still, he didn't seem to care and told me to play what I knew. I played for him Dolly Parton's "Jolene", a bit of the Kinks' "Lola", and Johnny's "I Still Miss Someone". To his regret I couldn't play Red Hot Chili Peppers or Audio Slave, just these old songs no one his age knew about. Then he surprised my by showing just how up-to-date he is by asking if I could teach him how to play (on guitar) one of Foxhole's (my very own band) songs! For those of you familiar with our tunes, which do you think he wanted to learn? Yes, none other than "The End of Dying". We recently got a kid asking us on MySpace for the tablature to this song. Maybe someday you'll find it on Cowboylyrics.com (despite it being an instrumental tune). Anyway, I actually KNOW how to play this song on guitar, or at least I know the first several bars of that infamous riff.
So I played it for him, showing him how simple it was. It really is simple, only he said, "That's not simple at all!" I said, "Sure it is," and handed him the guitar. Then came the kicker, the culmination of the entire day and awkward jam session, in the revelation that, in fact, Lukas can't play guitar. I sat there stupefied as I watched him crumple his fingers in the most painful-looking positions in order to play these 12 notes at no distinguishable tempo and missing most of the notes along the way. We spent about an hour on those 12 notes. I realized around that time that there would indeed be no jamming that day.
At the end of the hour, I knew this kid needed a guitar lesson and not jam session. I taught him (wrote down in tablature) two scales for the guitar, and went ahead and tabbed out the notes to "The End of Dying", too. Then I quickly started to pack my things. Before leaving, however, Lukas was able to muster the audacity to tell me that next time we'd really be able to jam. I smiled and said I looked forward to seeing how much he will have improved by then.
For those of you who don't know it, and would like to hear the song we
spent all that time on, you can visit the link to the right that says
"my band". There is a player you can sift through until you see "End of
Dying". Then, of course, there's always MySpace. Don't be decieved. It's not all that hard to play.
