Over the past decade and through four albums, Foxing has shown a lot of musical personalities. They’ve embraced the quirky, eclectic folk of Neutral Milk Hotel. Guitarist Eric Hudson has shown off some deft fretwork wrapped around complex rhythms similar to Tiny Moving Parts’ Dylan Mattheisen. They’ve dabbled in complicated, ambiguous instrumentation that echoes Radiohead. Most recently, the band has flexed a cinematic, post-rock cohesion that connects plot points via varied emotions and energy rather than analogous storytelling. And during the Rundown, Hudson hints at heavier, darker moments to come as they’ve been writing in tunings reserved for Behemoth and Melvins. All of these experimentations and transformations have allowed Foxing to carry on without needing a roadmap to their rock. And we’re just along for the ride.
The St. Louis indie rockers formed in the early 2010s out of the demise of Hunter Gatherer. Originally, the band was a trio with singer/guitarist Conor Murphy, bassist Josh Coll, and drummer Jon Hellwig. Prior to recording their 2013 debut, The Albatross, they expanded to a quintet with the addition of guitarists Eric Hudson and Ricky Sampson. However, Coll left ahead of Foxing’s third album, Nearer My God, and prior to recording their 2021 release, Draw Down the Moon (co-produced by Rig Rundown alumnus Andy Hull of Manchester Orchestra). And then Sampson departed the band. Murphy, Hellwig, and Hudson are the core members and tour with a rotating cast of contributors.
Ahead of Foxing’s July 5 headlining show at Nashville’s Basement East, Chris Kies hopped onstage and talked gear with Hudson, who touched on his love of “clanky” Strats, illustrated how his dual pedalboards can project him from pastoral to delirium, and explained why it always pays off to have good friends and to hang out at the merch booth.
Brought to you by D’Addario XPND Pedalboard.
The “Clanky-Caster”
“I love Strats because of the clankiness of their attack, and I think that’s why I’ve always played them my whole life,” concedes Foxing guitarist Eric Hudson. His longtime companion is a 2014 Fender American Professional Stratocaster. It’s gotten a facelift with a custom pickguard (painted by a friend) and upgraded with Fender’s Gen 3 Noiseless Stratocaster single-coils. During one show, he thought he was losing signal from the amp, but realized his pinky was anchored around the master volume and he was slowly turning himself down. He’s since secured the volume on 10 with gaff tape. All his guitars take D’Addario NYXLs (.010 –.046). The band explores several tunings including standard, open E (with a capo in various positions), and DADGAD, and Hudson alludes to the forthcoming material featuring some lower and dropped tunings.
Temper, Temper
Frustration boiled over during one gig and Hudson let his Strat hit the deck. It split the instrument in half, but luckily Tritone Guitars’ repair ace Dave Anderson gave it the requisite TLC to reclaim No. 1 status.
Durability Is the Best Ability
“I don’t have any techs, so I love gear that doesn’t break and this one has never let me down,” states Hudson. After the band’s gear was stolen in 2015, Hudson treated himself (out of necessity) to this Fender ’72 Telecaster Deluxe reissue—a model he always wanted. This one sees the spotlight for any open-E songs (both minor and major) and “Medic,” which requires tapping with a capo on the 5th fret.
By the Light of the Moon
Moon Guitars’ founder Kyle Wolfe and one of Hudson’s close friends worked together to create this instrument for the Foxing fretmaster. It’s based on the company’s Blood Moon S-style platform. The cherry sunburst and black pickguard approximates the look of the Strat Hudson had stolen when the band’s trailer was raided seven years ago. He uses this one on songs with big, heavy chords and that require an extra bit of spice.
Beak-areful
The Blood Moon model’s headstock has a very raptor-like silhouette, perfect for deterring any stage divers.
Baffling Bassman
Hudson’s main amp for years has been this 1968 Fender Bassman that he picked up the same day he bought the ’72 Deluxe reissue for $700. And like the Tele, it’s a staunch sidekick that’s never let him down.
He hints during the Rundown that his silver-panel beast may have the guts of a black-panel Bassman, because it’s from the transition-era of Fender amps, where early silver-panel amps left Fullerton only cosmetically different from their predecessors. He indicates that he was told this could be true because of the black lines enclosing the name Bassman on the amp’s face.
Casting Tones
Here we have Hudson’s Mills Custom Foundry. He brought the 3-channel head out on the road to test it against the Bassman. He’s been toggling between the Fender and Mills every few nights to see how the Foundry meshes with his Bassman-tailored tone platform. The three channels cover everything from tame, glassy cleans to raucous ’90s alternative rock to gobs of gain for modern metal.
Stack It Up!
You can see that both heads run through an Orange PPC212 cabinet that is loaded with Celestion Vintage 30s.
Mutation Station
Hudson’s main pedalboard can be broken down into a few key food groups: time-based (Boss DD-7 Digital Delay, MXR Carbon Copy, TC Electronic Trinity, and Line 6 DL4), drive (Boss BD-2 Blues Driver, Klon KTR, and Electronic Audio Experiments Longsword), and weirdos (Strymon Mobius and Electro-Harmonix POG). (It’s worth noting the KTR was given to him after a show by a Klon employee who loves Foxing.) Since he’s taped his Strat’s volume knob, he has an Ernie Ball 6180 VP JR for controlling dynamics, a Walrus Audio Phoenix powers the pedals, and a TC Electronic PolyTune 2 Noir Mini keeps his guitars in check.
More Madness
Hudson’s secondary board is the land of experimentation. Here, he’ll audition pedals before making any substitutions or additions to mission control. Currently, he has a DigiTech Whammy DT in a trial phase to see if the drop-tuning function will allow him to employ lower tunings for new songs on his beloved, fissured Strat. So far, he’s enjoyed the user experience and feels any perceived slight glitches or tracking latency gives his sound additional character. The nondescript white box is a King of Gear Feral Glitch that was made to replicate Jonny Greenwood’s solo at the end of “There there.” (“The Boney King of Nowhere”) from Radiohead’s Hail to the Thief. Next, he has a Hologram Electronics Microcosm that digests your signal and colorfully regurgitates it using a variety of granular sampling, delay, and looping techniques. Up top are two more standard-fare effects: a Walrus Audio Deep Six V1 compressor and an Old Blood Noise Endeavors Black Fountain delay. This stomp station is energized by a Voodoo Lab Pedal Power MONDO.
"It’s, of course, almost impossible to crystallize something in words that is beyond words. I think the combination of music and words is so much more powerful than simply the written word. If you can get those two things in balance, it can almost make you understand what is beyond understanding.”
The band went on hiatus after that show, and Wilson furthered the pursuit of his solo career (which began in 2008 with the release of his debut, Insurgentes). After a while, fans began to assume that waiting around for a Porcupine Tree reunion was a lost cause.
“I was quite a big contributor to that, too,” Wilson admits. “I would say to people, ‘No, forget it, we’re not coming back.’” But it wasn’t true. “I was telling a white lie just to get them to focus on what I was doing at that point. But actually, behind the scenes, we were working toward something that would eventually herald the return of the band.”
Porcupine Tree - Harridan (Official Lyric Video)
Porcupine Tree’s 11th full-length studio album, Closure/Continuation, marks that return. With the 65-minute, 10-track record, Wilson, drummer Gavin Harrison, and keyboardist Richard Barbieri offer a new collection of compositions that build on the band’s classic sound with a reinvigorated, visceral pulse.
Opening with the guttural, aggressively percussive bass line on “Harridan,” the album navigates through a series of kinetic musical worlds that are, in balance, both pensive and turbulent. The second track, “Of the New Day,” has a plaintive refrain taken from its title, and later on in the album, the haunting, subtly shapeshifting “Chimera’s Wreck” moves through tones of disquiet to create a nearly 10-minute narrative that’s both cerebral and emotive. Other standout tracks include the ominous “Herd Culling,” and the sinister “Rats Return.”
It’s elusive what exactly makes the record something that moves the band forward. It might be the amorphous arrangements, which stay accessible as they seem to breathe even more freely than past works, or the seamless concatenation of foreboding, hopeful, and furious overtones, or the strength in the voice that ties together each of the self-contained, emotionally complex, often dystopian scenes. But in their time away, what Wilson calls the band’s “creative core” seems to have evolved.
“I would say to people, ‘No, forget it, we’re not coming back.’”
Although Porcupine Tree never actually disbanded, there was a gap between 2010 and 2012 where they weren’t seeing much of each other, at least not for composing purposes. Then in 2012, they began a 10-year gestation of material that would end up becoming Closure/Continutation. Their writing sessions were sporadic, says Wilson: In the beginning, they would get together for just a few weeks at a time every other year.
“Part of the reason for that, I think, was that we didn’t want to feel any pressure in making a Porcupine Tree record,” he shares. “A lot of people assumed that we didn’t exist anymore, and I kind of liked that because it meant that we could work on the record in a complete vacuum with no pressure, no expectation, no deadlines.”
The 2020 lockdown motivated them to finally knuckle down and bring the record to completion, but they wouldn’t have gone through with releasing it if they didn’t feel as though they were doing something new. Part of Wilson’s jadedness at the end of that 2010 tour was because he felt, despite its relative chart success, that their last record, The Incident, was largely uninspired. “I felt like we were on a creatively downward trajectory where the music was no longer getting better,” he says. “In fact, it was beginning to sound a bit same-y. And it’s always been very important to me and the band that every record has a sense of evolution from the previous record.”
Porcupine Tree is Richard Barbieri (keyboards), Steven Wilson (guitars/vocals), and Gavin Harrison (drums).
Photo by Alex Lake
With the new album, he feels they’ve succeeded in that respect. “I’m very proud of the music, and I think it’s some of the best I’ve ever made,” he says. “Time will tell how the album fits into the catalog—it’s not something you can judge in such a close proximity. But right now, I’m fairly confident this will become one of the more popular and successful things I’ve ever done in my career.”
The band’s followers might notice that longtime bassist Colin Edwin doesn’t appear on the album. Rather, Wilson plays bass througout. He says filling that role wasn’t at all meant as a slight to Edwin but was a result of how the music came together. “It was just a very natural thing for me to try something different rather than picking up a guitar,” Wilson says. “And we ended up writing so much of the record in that way.”
“A lot of people assumed that we didn’t exist anymore, and I personally kind of liked that because it meant we could work on the record in a complete vacuum with no pressure, no expectation, no deadlines.”
Wilson’s guitar-minded approach to the bass produced a style that diverts from more predictable patterns. “I play bass like a guitar player,” he comments. “I play a lot of stuff high up, I play a lot of melodies, I play a lot of chords, and I don’t perhaps play like a traditional bass player would play.”
Writing on bass helped make the album more groove- and riff-oriented, and less polyphonic overall than past records. The newfound approach also gave Wilson a refreshed outlook on composing. “I’ve been writing on the guitar for the best part of 25 years. And frankly, when I pick it up now, I’m not sure what else I’ve got left to do!” he shares. “But when I pick up the bass, or I go to the keyboard, suddenly there’s so much more that I’ve never done before. I surprise myself more when I play them.”
Steven Wilson’s Gear
Steven Wilson plays his 1963 Relic Custom Shop Tele at London’s AIR Studios while tracking Porcupine Tree’s Closure/Continuation.
Photo by Derek Bremner
Guitars & Basses
- Fender Custom Shop Telecaster
- PRS Singlecut Gold Top
- PRS Custom 22
- Takamine acoustic
- Ovation acoustic (Nashville tuning)
- Babicz Steven Wilson signature model
- Spector basses
Amps
- Bad Cat Lynx
- Supro ’64 Combo
- Hughes & Kettner Tubemeister 5
- Various software plug-ins for recording
Strings
- D’Addario NYXLs
Effects
- Strymon BigSky Reverb
- Strymon TimeLine Delay
- Diamond Vibrato
- Moog Minifooger MF Tremolo
- Origin Effects Cali 76 Compressor
- Source Audio Programmable EQ
- Analog Man Prince of Tone
- Amptweaker Tight Rock JR
- Electro-Harmonix Small Stone Phaser
- Option 5 Rotary Pedal
- Dunlop Cry Baby
- Electro-Harmonix Micro POG x 2 (one octave up and one octave down)
Aside from acoustic strumming and fingerpicking on a few tracks, and edgy riff emphasis on others, the guitar mostly takes a backseat on the album. Wilson supports his arrangements with some solos that embody his quintessential feel for the instrument, but all in all, it’s apparent that the bass was truly the guiding force on Closure/Continuation.
In July, Wilson released another project: a 320-page autobiography entitled Limited Edition of One. Its subtitle, How to Succeed in the Music Industry Without Being a Part of the Mainstream, perhaps serves as its thesis. His story is that of someone who’s had success without ever having quite broken through, and that angle is exactly what helped him decide it was worth sharing.
“I always thought it would be a very boring book. I thought, ‘Well, there’s no book to be written because I don’t have any of those stories about being on the road and drugs and religion and groupies. I’m just a nerd that fell in love with the magic of making records.
“Then the guys at Hachette [the book’s publisher] pointed out to me, actually, that’s why a book on me would be interesting. Because that traditional rock ’n’ roll hedonistic thing … people are bored with that story because they’ve heard it so many times. At that point I became more convinced that maybe I did have a story to tell.”
Porcupine Tree’s new release, Closure/Continuation, had a gestation period of over a decade. The band hasn’t released an album since 2009’s The Incident.
“Love him or hate him, Kanye West is an incredibly innovative producer.”
He also writes, in his book, that he doesn’t see himself as a guitar hero. “I always feel fake and slightly embarrassed when I’m being interviewed for guitar magazines.” At the beginning of our conversation, Wilson says, “I’ll be very boring if I talk about guitars, because I don’t know much about them, to be honest.”
While many consider Wilson exclusively a progressive rock artist, his latest solo record, The Future Bites (2021), is but one of his works that refutes that notion, as it sits comfortably in an electronic or synth-pop category. Given that, it may not come as a surprise that when asked which musicians he thinks are truly progressive today, he’s quick to praise modern hip-hop artists.
Steve Wilson plays his signature Babicz dreadnought at Washington D.C.’s 9:30 Club in 2015. The guitar features Babicz’s unique touchstone of the strings fanning out from the soundboard, and an L.R. Baggs StagePro Anthem system.
Photo by Matt Condon
“Love him or hate him, Kanye West is an incredibly innovative producer,” he says. “Then there’s Kendrick Lamar. When you listen to the way they structure music and the way they make music, it’s so alien to the ear of people that grew up with rock music. I think that’s a really good thing, and that’s why we should listen to it.”
Wilson is less certain on how to make those kinds of innovations in songwriting, or how creative inspiration works: “I’ve no fucking clue.” He draws inspiration from all sorts of things, but also often goes into the studio and just bangs his head against the wall with nothing to show for it. “Yeah, [creative droughts] are really depressing. I get really down when I go through a period where I can’t create anything,” he shares. “I always come to the conclusion that, ‘Oh shit, I’ve written the last song I’m ever going to write. I’ve got nothing left. The well is dry.’ But I also manage, touch wood, to prove myself wrong. What I do is I carry on going to the studio, and I carry on hitting my head against the wall. I have a very strong work ethic.”
“It’s, of course, almost impossible to crystallize something in words that is beyond words,” he continues, reflecting on the ethereality of songwriting. “I think the combination of music and words is so much more powerful than simply the written word. If you can get those two things in balance, it can almost make you understand what is beyond understanding.”
Rig Rundown - Steven Wilson [2019]
See the differences and similarities between Steven's solo setup in 2019 and his current rig with Porcupine Tree for Closure/Continuation.
Talking to Wilson, his affability stands in contrast to the frequently dark and lachrymose themes heard in Porcupine Tree’s music. He explains that, for him, writing sad songs is like an exorcism or an unburdening of his own sadness.
“Miserabilism and melancholy … I’ve always found such a beautiful thing. It’s a profoundly magical thing if you can create empathy through focusing on some of the more negative feelings that we all share. And that’s why I still think that music, where on the surface it might be sad or melancholic or depressing, has the potential to be something incredibly uplifting and beautiful for the person who experiences it.”
YouTube It
Wilson leads Porcupine Tree in a performance of “Lazarus” from the 2005 album Deadwing, illustrating his penchant for introspective, melancholic ballads that find their place among the band’s heavier material.