• 14 Dec, 2025 *

A week ago I saw my favorite band live for the last time. Show number fifteen (not enough). It was the fourth night in a row across two cities, a funeral of sorts, and I made sure I was front and center each night. Now it doesn’t feel like the shows even happened. On the last two nights it was like I was alone in the room, not entirely there because I stood there in awe while fighting the devastation from destroying me. There were just these guys flailing all over the stage whose music means the world to me. Their music has defined not just my twenties. Their music is my life. I realize how cringe this all sounds, but I don’t know how else to express my adoration for them.

Their announcement to go on hiatus was abrupt, less than three months before they would play their last shows. I didn’t want to believe it and was so busy that I buried it elsewhere. In fact, part of my brain still feels like I’m going to see another one of their shows again just like always. I took all the shows over the years for granted.

Foxing is a band that never really got its flowers. Big enough to occasionally tour across continents, small enough that most people in their hometown still haven’t heard of them. They always made themselves uncomfortable, defying the concept of genres while putting on the most vulnerable live sets. They never really "made it" though.

I remember when I first discovered Foxing. I was walking around my university’s track about eight years ago, mindlessly listening to music when Spotify recommended their hits. I didn’t know how to feel about them. I was honestly weirded out by Foxing, especially by their vocalist. I guess it was in a good way because I was intrigued enough to remember their name and come crawling back to their music. Eventually, Foxing released their third record and by then I was hooked. I loved it, though I didn’t expect to become so attached to them. But I slowly but surely did, traveling to other cities just to see them. I bent over backwards for them in a way that I wouldn’t for any other band.

It all really came full circle for me when I visited Germany this year and planned things around being able to attend their show in Cologne. Importantly, this was before I flew to Kazakhstan to meet my sister for the first time. I do not exaggerate when I say that I’m not sure I could have coped over the last few years, which were especially dark, or have mustered the courage to confront the trauma of my adoption head-on like that if not for Foxing’s music. It was so special to see them in my favorite country before doing so. Even though I’d known it for several years at this point, I think I also needed this experience to affirm that I will never encounter any other art that helps me work through my shame, identity issues, and losses. Nothing else compares.

What adds to the disappointment is how wonderful the guys in the band are. They gave so much and deserved so much more. Admittedly, it also became quite parasocial for me as well as other fans. The thing is that we could make ourselves known to them because, well, they just weren’t a very big band. It’s inevitable when you travel to see them. They’re just so cool and kind. They did "see" us in a way, remembered things when chatting after the shows. So it does feel like I lost close friends of mine even if I am just a crazy fan who followed them everywhere.

I wanted them around forever. I wanted to see Foxing again and again for the rest of my life. I’d look forward to it even if they played the same setlist each night. That’s how special and cathartic their shows are. Sure, no band will play music forever. But this was too soon. Still, I feel so fortunate that they suffered through so many financial hardships to have released such a large and diverse discography over their career.

There will never be another band like Foxing. I cried so much last week that I have no more tears left to shed. The people around me on night 2 said I was visibly crying so much that it was no wonder I was personally handed the setlist.

My brain still has to deny everything so that my heart doesn’t break more than it already has over this loss. I’ll never forgive the music industry for robbing Foxing of the success they deserved. I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover from this.

Last weekend I simply had to give them a sappy letter expressing what their music means to me as well as my gratitude. I felt like I never properly told them. Writing that letter (regardless of whether they actually read it) and this blog post kind of helps.

Tomorrow I’m finally getting my first Foxing-related tattoo, something I should have done long ago.

Some photos I’ve taken of Foxing this year: