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Ooee

from Lost Image by Foxhole

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about

Recorded in April 2007 at Futureproof Audiolab in Nashville, TN. Foxhole here is Derek Holt, Greg Leppert, Adam Moore, Justin Shepherd and Jason Torrence.

Originally composed for a children's book (vimeo.com/106952834), the title derives from the “sound” that the venetian gondola man would call out as he turned a corner to warn other boatmen, as one might yell “fore” or “timber.”

The original writing prompt:
The sky outside was a grayish, olive color and there was a terribly uncomfortable chill floating in the air. From the dark lonely sky little pieces of what seemed to be snow slowly drifted down toward the calm waters. As a tiny, glistening flake softly floated down to me, I gently stretched out my arm to reach for it. When the speck finally landed in my hand it disappeared like any snowflake would. From the moment it touched my skin I knew this was not an ordinary snowflake, it looked like a snowflake, and it even behaved like a snowflake, but there was one thing particularly odd about this tiny flake. A regular snowflake would have been frozen, but this strange flake was not frozen, it was not even cold. It was the opposite, actually. That’s right, it was warm. The fog outside was extremely thick, blurring most anything further 15 feet in the distance. Yet somehow, through these strange, snow-like flakes and this dense fog, I was able to see an island floating in the distance. At the exact moment that I spotted this mysterious little island the temperature dropped from a comfortable sixty degrees Fahrenheit to an unsettling forty-five degrees Fahrenheit. I knew I had found what I had set out to find, this had to be Murkville. From my location I was unable to make out much detail, but seeing this island after several days of seeing absolutely nothing at all, was comforting. Even from this distance the island seemed extremely dreary and incredibly murky. Eerie sounds of harmonized moaning produced a beautiful, yet haunting orchestra that crept through the sky making the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. As we drifted closer to the island dead trees peeked above the waters and clawed at the bottom of the boat, crying for someone to save them from the dark, dreadful water. Every once in a while I felt a strange bumping against the bottom of the boat and heard enchanted whispers in a language I could not comprehend. I could only imagine what was lurking beneath this rickety, old boat. If this were any other day I would have felt entirely uneasy, for I was not use to such an uncomfortable atmosphere. But on this day, I was on a mission and I was convinced that I was going to revive the stories of my incredibly great-grandfather, Jacque. Because the waters were unusually calm and we were drifting so slowly, I knew it would take at least a couple of hours before we would hit land. Since I had a somewhat decent amount of time on my hands, I went into the sleeper, removed my jacket and pants, and laid down in hopes for a quick nap before we reached solid ground.

credits

from Lost Image, released December 10, 2018

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Foxhole Bowling Green, Kentucky

Blistering drums, masterful melodic interplay and a distinct smattering of brass — these are the defining qualities of Foxhole, a mostly instrumental post-rock group founded in Kentucky, circa 2000. Explorations of life and love, decay and renewal, friendship and longing manifest in music that's complex yet coherent — sometimes soaring, occasionally thrashing, and always visceral. ... more

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