Combine the bombastic heavy blues of Trophy Scars with the moody, theistic storytelling of The Foxery and the per-character lyrical voicing of Adjy’s Idyll Opus and you’ll get something that resembles Pensacola-based Faux/Fox’s most recent release. Even though the record is a meager eight tracks, it still manages to top 40 minutes – and the closer itself surpasses nine minutes alone. As a whole, it’s not the most intricate or extensive concept when compared to the like of albums that top 80 minutes; even so, it is perhaps a more manageable and concentrated effort that is conscious of the more typical listener. And don’t get me wrong, this is still by far longer than most modern albums.

Heat Death is the sort of album that could have been released at any point within the last 20 years and felt era-appropriate. There are hints of Minus the Bear and older post-hardcore acts. In terms of more recent comparisons, you’ve got Soot, Holy Fawn, and Pleasures of the Flesh. For the time in between, you’ve got the familiar dynamics of many post-hardcore and melodic hardcore acts: good cop/bad cop vocals, tight leads, and moments that approximate breakdowns. And personally, I again feel like The Foxery in particular works as a good comparison to the whole dynamic of what Faux/Fox bring to the table here.

Conceptually, the album draws from the writings of Albert Camus, Christian mythology, and a broader set of worldviews. The result is a lyric sheet punctuated with the voices of different characters engaging in conversation surrounding the matters of life and death – coincidentally also seeing Death himself as a character. This sort of conceptual and philosophical musing is pretty fun, and I’ve personally felt this has become lost in recent years (A Hope for Home’s The Everlasting Man and Realis both played heavily off literature and philosophy and are some of my favorite records). So, again, Faux/Fox are arguably less outdated or nostalgic as much as they seem to be reclaiming the sounds and ideas surrounding circa-2010 post-hardcore, all without forsaking modern innovation as well. And while they haven’t opted in for a full orchestra, the string arrangements and pedal steel definitely add plenty of depth and dynamic to these songs. It’s hard not to draw a comparison to Trophy Scars’ latest LP in this respect.

From the opening notes of “Pispir,” listeners are greeted with a beefy, wall-of-fuzz sound that carries a bitter of a stoner metal flavor. Personally, it’s not my favorite track – it’s instrumental and a bit subdued, and while it’s not necessarily bad, it’s a bit deceptive as a first taste. Perhaps an interlude midway through the record, before the ending trilogy of Abaddon’s Cave, could have worked. Now, most album-listeners are used to pushing through anyway, and I don’t see this as a major deterrent, but it’s worth asking how this track fits the overall story of the album.

Things pick up very quickly on “St. Anthony’s Fire,” straddling the line between the chaos of The Chariot and the more pensive stylings of Instant Empire. The instrumental build is spooky and atmospheric, breaking into mosh-inducing screaming. It’s a bit of a microcosm for what Faux/Fox are capable of.

“Holy Thorn,” likewise, exists in parts. The heavier instrumental intro leads into a glimmering bed of post-rock guitar under Michael Bishop’s trademark voice. As a whole, it’s probably on the softer side, though certainly not to the band’s detriment.

Pedal steel dances all over “A Place of Great Undoing,” melding perfectly with modulated guitar arpeggios. I’m always a huge fan when bands add in non-traditional instrumentation, and while black banjocore is still leaving only as a meme, pedal steel usage in emo and art-rock songs has been on the rise. Even Touché Amoré played around with it on their last album. Now, that’s not all this song has to offer – but it does speak toward the band’s ethos, and it definitely works toward the track’s dynamic.

The ending trilogy serves as the culmination of the story, and it’s delineated into clear parts: the first installment has a prominent thrash flavor, the second leans more toward melodic hardcore, and the final piece is the most progressive and layered of the three, even pushing heavily into post-rock territory at times. The ending is lush and beautiful, coinciding with the idea of transcendence which follows after the darkness and frustration of death which precedes it.

Admittedly, I’m not well-read enough to know exactly which concepts on the record come from existing stories versus those created specifically for the album, but I certainly appreciate the care put into how the story is structured. Does it verge on intellectual babble at times? Yes. All the same, it’s hard to find an album this structured and intentioned that doesn’t try to pontificate in some shape or form. Obviously there are a lots of mixed thoughts regarding God, death, and purpose in the Deep South during our modern age, and I can respect a band who takes time to wrestle with these ideas in a way that clearly took a lot of time and effort.

All in all, Heat Death is a strange pastiche of unbridled chaos and unrefutably-beautiful moments. While it wouldn’t be entirely fair to call Faux/Fox post-metal, they’ve certainly captured both ends of that sound dynamic. There’s southern, bluesy grit married with the more melodic elements of Midwest emo, post-rock, and even more typical indie fare. And while I’m personally a fan of the cleaner moments, I’m reminded of just how much I loved bands like The Dillinger Escape Plan over a decade ago. There’s something special going on here that you’ll want to check out.

FFO: The Republic of Wolves, The Chariot, The Foxery, Trophy Scars