released: 2017-01-20 )
Get a load of these guys. These two young guys in the corner booth of a
small bar. Classy joint. Beautiful ugly woman sits at the taps.
Frail handsome man with a rag mops around her drink. Collectin' the
dust. There are other people in the bar is what I'm saying but forget
them we wanna focus on the men in the booth. There's something about
these two guys. Some sort of exotic mystique. They got an air of
show business about em. Like talented actors. Like they've seen
triumph and scandal and delirium. How old are they?
Could be 37 year olds playing 25 year olds. Could be kids dressed as
adults. All I know is these two young guys are lookin' good and bored
and ready for some kinda seismic activity.
The tall one name of 'France' gets up goes to the bathroom. Comes
back with a condom from the machine. Stuffs it in his wallet where
the other one used to be. He's muttering his debut novella to
The other one, all cheek bone structure and hair goes by 'Rado.' He's
tapping out a rhythm with chopsticks up against the table which he's
muted with a napkin. Erratic thuds. Rado's just now written an album
in his mind and he's ready for a milkshake.
They've each got different hair styles. Different builds. Different
ways. But they seem to move as a unit. Like a two legged dog
attached to some kind of cart mechanism that follows the drifter
around. Snarls when I try to pat it. They don't seem dangerous but
they could be the guys they were talking about on the news. Is
that why they turned the TV off when they came in? Bar tender didn't
bat an eyelid when the Rado one yanked the power chord out.
These guys are American that's for sure. West Coast Vampires.
They're in the entertainment business. Immigrant ancestors. Real mix
of blood types. Gamblers and magnates and Hustlers and POWs. All
distilling down to true lyrics and songs that matter in the San
Fernando valley and every other place too. Real operators. Kinda
guys that discover young talent and harvest it into superstar outfits.
Kinda guys that assemble the most talented musicians they could find from LA to Long Island for things like exotic show band arrangements and ambient beauty. Real guys. Guys that make moves. From one place to another.
Besides, Foxygen was never just one band.
Foxygen is the Big Bang of two combusting minds. It's the splayed
Galaxy of polar geniuses Sam France and Jonathan Rado. It's a
handshake with a knife behind your back. A cosmic, Californian
death-game of highway chicken. A sleepless night in a five star
hotel. Truth or dare. Foxygen is the risk of pushing your best
friend off the ledge just to see if they can fly.
You listen to this album properly. You take in each moment. Each new
melody that threads forward from the fingertips of one of this
generation's finest piano men in Jonathan Rado. And you fall in line
behind Sam France's sprawling and reckless lyric. Witness his
mastery. Feel them struggle against the walls of their own creations.
Follow them there. To the perimeter. To the exit sign. And let your
eyes fog up with thoughts like 'For at least this moment I understand
how cold blooded and beautiful I am.' Notice that the two young guys
aren't there anymore. They're outside looking for another joint to
haunt. They're already out of sight.
And now you're on a train. Facing the wrong way so the trees are
passing in front of you. And you're looking forward but everything is
getting further away. These nowhere towns somehow sound good. Like
the city is heavy, but out here we float a little bit. America is too
big of a boat to sink. Don't sink baby. Hang.
FACTS ABOUT HANG
- Hang is Foxygen's first proper studio record, recorded in Los Angeles, CA at Electro Vox Studios.
- Hang was written and produced entirely by Foxygen
- Hang features Steven Drozd of the Flaming Lips, as well as Brian D'Addario and Michael D'Addario of the Lemon Twigs as players on the record.
- Hang features a 40+ piece symphony orchestra on every track. Trey Pollard from Spacebomb arranged and conducted the orchestral parts, with additional arranging from Matthew E. White.
- No computers were used in the process of making Hang. It was recorded & mixed entirely on 2" tape and the vinyl lacquers were cut directly from master tapes.