Foxfire

Foxfire Forest and friends enthusiastically showcase their rock-spastic orchestral theatrics to fans at the Tiger Bar From lead vocalist Neil Rankin's side burns to the nine members who make up his band, Toronto's Foxfire Forest have a certain penchant for going big. As you can imagine, their sound is huge as well, being an epic, psyched-out onslaught of theatrical doo-wop rock. In fact, the only thing that wasn't oversized about Foxfire's July 19 show was the venue. Hence it's no surprise that by the time the band began their set, the Tiger Bar was already at capacity. The crowd had been coming in before 10:30 p.m., when opening act B.A. Johnson — who's perhaps even more theatrical than Foxfire Forest — began his music-comedy-experience shtick. A cross between Chris Farley and Jack Black, Johnson's website describes him as being "a fat lazy frycook who loves poutine." He's from Hamilton and he's fucking hilarious. He had the crowd pissing themselves as he performed soon-to-be-classics such as "Jesus is from Steeltown" and "Sleeping with my Walkman," which is a quaint ballad about trying to sleep while listening to roommates have sex. By the end of the song, Johnson was half-naked and prostrate on the sticky floor, moaning about being "All alone while they bone." He even dumped a can beer on himself and asked, "Who's ready to party?"

Yet none of this could compare to the sheer energy and unadulterated joy that Foxfire Forest brought to the stage. The band's trumpet-tinged sound is completely infectious. It's nearly impossible not to get caught up with this orchestra of Twee-inspired, Ritalin-doped kids; when they start to play, you can't help but dance. Plus, more often than not, by the time they've hit their second song, the band members are dancing toward near-hysteria. When their last song came to an all-too-soon ending around 2 a.m., I left with a smile on my face that lasted until a very hung-over morning at work. It was quite an experience. If you missed it this time, don't worry: Foxfire Forest performs again at the Boat on August 3. - Soundproof

Now, the reason that we really came out: I mean no slight to the other bands but Foxfire Forest are that band I'll probably see twenty times when it's all said and done. If you haven't seen them yet, you need to rectify this as soon as possible. I've seen them three times now and each time the show has been incredible. That's what you get with Foxfire, a guaranteed amazing effort. You'll never feel slighted for your five bucks.

They opened with "Firefly Beacons," which somewhat surprised me because I thought they liked to hold that one back so that the crowd starts to anticipate it. Then again, I heard it wasn't played at all at the last show so I am happy they decided to play it this time. The show last night had the feel of a band who were really in love with their newer material and wanted to play some of that rather than the songs they'd played so many times before.

I've been at more than a few shows where a band decided to do this and it was a disaster because the new material stunk. That didn't happen last night. I don't have a setlist, which stinks I know, but believe me when I say this, Foxfire's new album is going to be out of this world. The neat thing about going to see this band all the time is they are growing in front of your very eyes. The songs have more intricacies, and yet a tighter and more robust feel to them than the older ones. Not that we don't all love the older ones also, but something very special is going on here with Foxfire Forest and because of how loyal their fans are we are all along for the ride.

I'll say it one last time here: you need to see this band. The days of them playing in a room with a capacity of about 70 are probably numbered, and trust me when I say you aren't going to want to be the one who missed out on it.

http://www.twowaymonologues.com/interview.php?interviewId=59 - Two Way Monologues

Before most people hear Foxfire Forest, they may make the mistake of lumping them in with all the other big bands in Toronto; see also: Broken Social Scene, The Ghost Is Dancing, Hylozoists, Henri Fabergé and the Adorables, and so on. Even I -- a person who's a huge fan of all of those bands (not to mention countless similar acts bubbling just beneath the city's surface) -- would readily admit that as fun as both the idea and the execution of big bands can be, the movement hasn't really produced wildly diverse-sounding bands.

One listen to Foxfire Forest's self-titled debut, however, shows that the band is actually quite different from all those other acts. Where BSS, the Adorables etc., seem to thrive and revel in barely-restrained chaos, Foxfire Forest have a sound that, relatively, is almost military in its precision. This is clear from the opening chords of "Narcissist In The Forest", where the opening riff's thump gets compounded by the thundering drum beats.

From that moment on, it's impressive to hear the way the band's nine members work together to create a sound in which every guitar, horn and background vocal fall perfectly into place. Unlike most bands of this nature, there aren't moments wasted on noodling and atmospheric noises; even when they throw in a guitar solo (see the end of "Narcissist In The Forest"), it seems more influenced by classic rock than by any notion of throwing it in just so that every member can say they contributed.

The album's most illuminating moment is probably "Such A Quandry, Dirty Laundry". The track is an incredible mix of disco, gospel and, of course, rock, and every aspect of it is done with incredible precision. The horns are perfectly placed, the background vocals come it at just the right time, and frontman Neil Rankin howls like an indie-rock James Brown. It's the album's highest point out of a series of very high peaks, and it shows that just because a group's numbers are spiraling out of control, it doesn't mean their music has to as well. In this respect, perhaps the best comparison to be made is to The New Pornographers. After all, that group, too, has a fairly large cast of characters, yet despite that they produce the most precise example of power-pop possible.

Foxfire Forest don't make power-pop, however, so that's where the comparison breaks down, since the nine-piece are definitely crafted in the mold of their fellow Toronto supergroups. It just so happens that they're far better than anyone else in that city at moving as a single, cohesive unit, and, because of that, they make a sound that's easy to appreciate and enjoy, regardless of your feelings on all those other collectives. - i (heart) music

By: Japhet Bower

I've always had a good time at the Boat. The stage is barely there and the place has a cozy, subterranean feel to it which, unless you're one of those fools who don't dance at shows, you would never pick up on.

Why? 'Cos you'd be too busy having a good time like I did when I went to see local band Foxfire Forest play there last Thursday.

I didn't arrive in time for the opening bands, Flotilla and Singleaf but I just had time to grab a beer and swap hellos before the main act got up to do their set.

The theme was "United Nations" and each member of the band was representing a different country. Unlike the UN, they actually played well together. The vocals and instruments came together without morphing into a messy wall of noise which is always a pleasant surprise considering how many bands sound great on their album and then end up a bloody mess in front of an audience.

These guys know what they're doing.

Their album is played every so often at work but I didn't know what to expect from them live and that's why it was so fantastic to find myself jumping up and down like a lunatic a quarter of the way into their set. Toronto crowds are notoriously unmovable but Foxfire Forest worked very hard to get 'em moving. It doesn't hurt that they have a front-row of hardcore groupies dancing madly to every song and infecting those around them with them with the same urge.

Of course, the main feature is the music and it's orchestrated quite well. Every element seems to have its place and one gets a distinct marching band vibe from them at times. Where it gets weird is the eclectic melodies that call to mind many genres of music without directly referencing them although mostly, the band's sound just rocks. It's catchy without being cloying and quite distinct.

Three-quarters of the way through FF's set, dangerously drunk from the mickey I'd been pounding back all night long and not at all ready to quit, I realized I hadn't enjoyed a show this much since the Extra Action Marching Band had played there back in 2005.

With that and much more in mind, I talked with Neil Rankin, lead singer, about what makes Foxfire Forest worth getting into.

Japhet Bower: "How did you develop such a cohesive sound?"

Neil Rankin: "Lots and lots of rehearsal time! To take nine people and expect to be at that level right away is ridiculous. We have fifteen songs at present and to get to a point where we feel good about playing them has taken nearly a year-and-a-half. We all have ideas, everybody gives their input and it can take awhile."

JB: "What are you doing to get Toronto dancing?"

NR: "As a person, be the first one on the floor. As a band, we write stuff that we want to dance to. One of my favorite quotes comes from Quincy Jones. He and Michael Jackson were in the studio recording Thriller and their take on the songs was, 'if we don't get the goosebumps, how do we expect anyone else to?'

It's really simple. There's wanking music which is just for yourself and then there's happy music which everybody can get into. There seems to be this fear in Toronto that if you dance, you'll get made fun of and we want to get away from that... You lead by example and we put an emphasis on the fun."

JB: "What's up for the band in the near future?"

NR: "It's only just getting started. We just finished our album, which you can get at Rotate This! (620 Queen St. West), Sunrise Records (784 Yonge St.), Soundscapes (572 College St.), Criminal Records (493 Queen St. West), Sam the Record Man (1500 Yonge St.), Sonic Boom (512 Bloor St. West) and She Said Boom! (372 College St.), and we've got a couple of shows coming up as well... one's at the Drake Hotel tonight, the 3rd of May, at 8pm and we've got another one coming up on the 18th of May at Rancho Relaxo.

We also want to record another album this summer and we'll be doing a week-long tour in August."


While some people might roll their eyes at the mention of another Toronto indie band, Foxfire Forest are throwing shows with other up-and-coming bands that are cheap, unpretentious and a whole lot of fun.

Most importantly, you can dance to it. - Blog TO.com

By Sam Linton

Foxfire Forest! No, they’re not an alternative search engine to Internet Explorer; they’re a Toronto based indie-pop ensemble! (I apologize for that joke, but it got stuck in my head and it seemed as though the only way to exorcise it was to get it down in print.) Composed of Alex Ralph, Andre Lowy, Anna Edwards, Cameron Whitesell, Hannah Krapivinsky, Isaac Vernon, Joe Elaschuk, Monica Bettson and Neil Rankin, FF continues the current trend in indie music of having your band be really big, and having sound to match. This past Wednesday, they released their debut album in a showing at the Drake Underground. How was it? That’s what this journalist decided to find out…

(Cut to last Wednesday)

I arrived halfway through the set of Tropics, the pre-opening act, so it’s quite possible that they performed an extremely kickass first half of a set, only delving into the territory of “meh” after I arrived, but from what I saw, I might as well have missed all of their performance and just stayed in my friend’s basement drinking homebrew and watching Batman: The Animated Series (which I why I was late in the first place). I mean, they weren’t awful, but when people are turning their backs to the stage and engaging in in-depth conversations with each other while you’re playing, it’s no benchmark for success by any margin.

Fortunately, the next band, Entire Cities (the “opener proper”, as I like to consider them), served up a more captivating show: a musical antipasti to whet the appetite for the main event, in the tradition of all good opening acts. Their style: a flautist-infused rock with a country twang. Catchy, foot-stompin’, and just right to lead us into the main event.

Looking for all the world like a group of LARPers (this being the internet, I feel no need to explain what a LARPer is), dressed in crowns, capes, cloaks and tunics, Foxfire Forest manifested themselves on stage like kings and queens at court. This was also the style in which they addressed their audience, so it was nice that they had a theme going. They quickly set about energizing the audience with their mere stage presence alone, a skill honed no doubt by lead singer Neil Rankin’s days performing as an improviser, and soon the Drake Underground was alive with life: like unto a time-lost medieval reverie, only more electrical. Some slight static occurred when a couple of drunks, no doubt emboldened by the band’s heartening melodies, decided they were more important than the band and tried to steal their thunder by stealing their stage-space, but even that could not put out the Foxfire! (As a side note, the audience at this show displayed some of the most impressive unanimous decision-making I have ever seen in collectively tossing these douches out on their ears. It was like a river suddenly tossing two fish out onto the bank through the force of its current.)

After that bit of unpleasantness, the band carried the rest of the night nicely with their swankily-majestic brand of indie-pop. Sounding eerily like an indie-equivalent of the power metal bands I enjoy so much (this is not a backhanded compliment!), FF’s sound is melodic and permeating, like it’s coming from the very air itself. This is probably an effect of the combined vocal harmonies of Rankin, Bettson and Krapivinsky with the trumpet stylings of Andre Lowy, but I like to think there just might be a little elfin magic about it, too. In any case, like any good reverie, the night lent itself well to drinking, so much of its ending is lost in the fogs of my memory, but the good feelings remain from a night of good rockin’.

Needless to say, I ended up walking away with a CD. - Mondo Magazine

By: James Sandham

Emerging from a spaced-out blue jumpsuit to reveal the bear costume beneath, lead vocalist Neil Rankin thus commenced the surreal, freaked-out funk experience that is Foxfire Forest. Somewhere between Prince, Broken Social Scene and a vivid, fairytale acid trip, the Toronto-based nine-some (yeah, they roll deep) make music as fun and vibrant as their stage show is theatrical. It brims with energy, anchored firmly by some seriously funky guitar and trumpet, and all topped off by a duo of backing female doo-wop vocalists worthy of Barry Mann. Not content with a mere two costume changes, Rankin donned a green dress and stuffed monarch's crown to embark upon the set's second half, descending into the tight, but energetic crowd of groupies twitching at the foot of the stage to further entrance an already fanatical cadre of twee partiers. Surely this is one of the most entertaining bands in Toronto's indie-rock dance scene. - Soundproof

Canadian Music Week : Friday 7
By Benjamin Boles

Foxfire Forest

Who: Toronto-based Foxfire Forest (soon to be just Foxfire) are a sprawling, seven-person indie-funk orchestra that sound kind of like Talking Heads covering P-Funk.

Why: The exuberant, young band have been rapidly evolving and fine tuning their sound over the past year, settling into a consistent lineup and trading some of their more indie-pop sensibilities for quirky cosmic-soul tendencies. Joyful, over-the-top and musically ambitious weirdness.


Buzz Factor: They’re going to start playing some more out-of-town shows this spring, which should help spread the word, as the extravagant live experience is where they really shine. They’re also going back into the studio to try to capture the new directions they’ve been channelling from the interplanetary transmissions that are currently guiding the indie rock big band’s explorations. - Now Magazine

The third act of the night, Toronto’s Foxfire, started their set suddenly, and with a bit of a bang, if you will, as the seven-piece band’s lead male vocalist started caressing his microphone and hip-thrusting at the crowd, oozing nothing but charisma. All very well, since Foxfire’s music is apparently aiming to start a renaissance of 1970s swanky, steamy disco, the kind you don’t take home to mom, with some 1980’s synthesizers mixed in for good measure.

The band boasts two sexy-sounding vocalists, Neil Rankin and Hannah Krapivinski, multiple guitarists and keyboardists, and more pairs of tight pants than you can shake a leg at, and they seemed to delight in grooving from song to song with hardly a break for air in between. The band’s musicianship and stage presence is no small thing either: while Krapivinski put on her best Donna Summers, Rankin strutted out into the crowd for some bonding time with the masses, much to the delight of the front row.

Link:
http://blog.muchmusic.com/cmw-day-1-the-job-everything-all-the-time-foxfire/ - Much Music Blog

Almost Famous

This article was published on Jan 20, 2009 in the Features section. © 2009 The Varsity.
Toronto disco-revivalists Foxfire have their own documentary crew, props from Broken Social Scene, and have opened for MGMT. So why did only three people come to their show in Ottawa?

By: Chandler Levack

“I feel the same way about disco as I do about herpes.”

—Hunter S. Thompson

The first time I meet Neil Rankin, he’s urinating outside of a house near Dundas and Ossington, having his photo taken. It’s four in the morning in early June of 2008, and this is the unofficial “after party” for Toronto disco-revivalists Foxfire’s (formerly Foxfire Forest) show at Wrongbar. Alongside a hundred drunk concert-goers (including Broken Social Scene’s Kevin Drew), I observed a then 22-year-old Neil, clad in ski goggles, an eye patch, and black bondage gear, slithering over backup singer/ex-flame Hannah Krapivinsky, bellowing in his dramatic, lounge-singer vibrato: “Annnndddd my name is Raël!”

I don’t know Neil personally, but I’ve already seen him shirtless, tongue-kissing random strangers, and lamenting his on-again-off-again relationship with Ghost Is Dancing pianist Leslie Davies. Now I’m observing him stream a clean flow of urine across a chain-link fence, hand cocked on skinny hip, posing for a photo. Zipping up his tight leather pants, Neil gallops across the side street, dodging an errant bicyclist as a black cat zips by. “Pick it up!” photographer Norman Wong instructs. Neil scoops the mewing stray into his arms. “Fuck!” he screams, dropping the cat on the ground. “He scratched me!” With a broad sway of his arms that recalls Buster Keaton, Neil pratfalls to the ground and starts doing pushups.

Normally I would never get invited to a party like this—full of good looking American Apparel employees and mustachioed bassists procuring PBR tall boys from a bespeckled Justin Peroff. But being with the band, as I will soon learn, is a secret backstage pass. You walk taller, prouder, and have access to better drugs and hotter sex partners. You don’t have to make plans, because the band makes them for you. Though they doth protest, this is probably why people become roadies, and this is probably why rock journalists sweat out the low pay and uncertain future. You are with the band. And when you are with the band, you exist.

At this point in time though, Foxfire only has a terse, robotic missive streaming on their MySpace page instead of real songs, and there’s no recorded album to speak of. They have amassed buzz and a sizeable following through sheer will, with accolades from Broken Social Scene founder Brendan Canning (who thanks the band on his solo album, Something For All Of Us...), and Rosedale Heights Collegiate classmates Spiral Beach, whose guitarist Airick Woodhead has missed only two of Foxfire’s hometown performances. “I always knew Neil would start a band,” says Woodhead, “I just thought it would be sooner.”

Observing them for the first time at Wrongbar, I’m struck by Foxfire’s keen sense of disco chic. The stage is littered with seven bandmates dressed in black S&M gear, as Neil pelvic thrusts to the viscous bass lines. Redheaded back up singer Hannah does Donna Summer as Valerie Bertinelli, exclaiming backstage in her smoky Valleygirl speech: “Yah, I’m so excited for this show, it’s going to be so rad. We have a smoke machine. Neil—where the fuck is the smoke machine?”

My chicken scratch reads: “There are seven members onstage, and that is a lot. I hope those are not real leather pants.”

“Q: Who does this guy think he is? A: He thinks he’s Neil Rankin.”

The saga of Foxfire begins in the strange transit hub of Main and Danforth; a neighborhood Neil deems “the cusp of Toronto.” A recent high school graduate, Rankin was eager to put his theatrical singing style to use, after playing Dr. Frank N. Furter in a Rosedale production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Recruiting guitarist/Swedish model Anna Edwards from across the street, the two met for folksy jam sessions in their parent’s basements, but it didn’t match the James Brown image in Neil’s mind.

“I basically had the idea of putting together a full-fledged band, three backup singers, and a horn section,” says Neil, chugging down beers in January at Kensington Market bar Ronnie’s Local 67. “That was my vision—get the backup singers, break out the horn section, and it ended up being two backup singers and a drummer. And then I just didn’t know where to go from there.”

Neil had struck up an acquaintance with Hannah while touring her around Rosedale as a Grade 8 student. Forced to travel the Deep South together as part of Rosedale’s music program (Hannah recorded demos at the infamous Sun Records, while Neil laid down a cover of Bowie’s “Young Americans”), the two were poised to date until Neil’s “unspeakable act” (threatening suicide) killed their almost-romance.

“I just got drunk and acted like a fool—what else is new for me?” reveals Neil. “But I think she didn’t really know I had that in me. But high school, as much as people are always like, ‘it’s hard’—it is hard. Somebody’s always watching you and judging you, and you’ve got to try to be yourself—but you don’t even know who you are yet. So Hannah and I needed to give each other space, figure ourselves out a little more, and then we were able to come back together. And when we were friends again, it felt like we were really friends.”

Recalls Hannah, “Neil wanted to be friends again, and when Neil wants to be friends…he really won’t just leave you alone.”

Reunited for good, Neil recruited the classically-trained Hannah to serve as his backup singer. As additional eye candy, he also asked Ryerson dance student Monica Bettson—Hannah’s best friend and Neil’s new GF. While Neil would date Monica for the next two years, Hannah wins the ex-match by math alone. Three of Foxfire’s current lineup are ex-boyfriends: there’s Neil, drummer Sean Dunal (who Hannah dated for a year during a stint in Toronto’s big band), and guitarist Alex Ralph—her first boyfriend and paramour of three years. According to Hannah, Alex used to crash on her couch and eat breakfast with her family the next morning, as Hannah’s mom braided their hair in time for school.

“Maybe it should feel weird, but it doesn’t feel weird,” says Hannah. “I think because each of them were such a big part of my life when I was dating them, it was never ‘this is my ex-boyfriend,’ it’s just Alex, or Sean, or Neil.” Aside from their driving basslines, Foxfire has little in common with Fleetwood Mac, though Neil admits to a certain temptation—one Norman Wong witnessed as Neil and Hannah made out on tour in Niagara Falls.

Says Neil, “There are days where both of us are more into each other than we should be as friends, but I think that it’s inevitable. Especially with close friends, you see things that you really like about that person, and maybe one day they walk in and you say, ‘Hey, wow, she looks amazing today,’ or ‘You look great and I really… wanna kiss your face.’ And then other days, just like in any work, it’s like ’I can’t stand you, you’re irritating me so much.’”

“But it never gets awkward. It never gets to the point where like, I feel threatened or anything. [I know] that we can be friends, and still have this [flirtation]. But I don’t know if there’s anything serious there anymore.”

After adding trumpet player Andre Lowy (a former member of ska outfit Makeshift Heroes) and bassist Joe Elaschuk to the mix, the former Foxfire Forest (named after the bioluminescence process, not the Internet server) recorded a self-produced LP and proceeded to play the Drake, Whippersnapper Gallery, and Sneaky Dee’s as nine-person power pop. Though their debut album shows glimpses of Foxfire’s disco leanings with the crass “Such A Quandary, Dirty Laundry,” the remaining tracks meld brusque Strokes guitar riffs with emulsified brass and saxophone solos—a triumphant, schlocky mess. But is incongruity the best way to set Toronto’s indie scene on fire? Not according to NOW reviewer Joshua Errett. In a critique of the band’s 2007 CMW showcase at the Dakota Tavern, Errett writes:

“With the he-she back-and-forth plus horns/keys and more than five people onstage, Foxfire are but a glam version of Stars. And just like Stars, there’s an overly theatrical male vocalist who, despite all his prancing about on and off stage, can’t steal the star from his band’s very capable female vocalist.”

Harsh.

It’s my first gig with the band and we are on our way to…Peterborough? As the streetcar pulls up to Foxfire’s Queen and Portland practice space, we’re already embroiled in a crisis. In preparation for their appearance at coffee shop The Spill, Foxfire has decided to perform clad all in gold. While guitarist Alex will end up in a woman’s dress, this has required drummer Sean to spray paint his tapered jeans, leading to a glittering permanent outline of pants on the studio landing. “The landlord already hates us,” says Sean, “this could put us over the edge.” I laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but stop when a dark cloud reaches Sean’s baby-soft face. “No, seriously, I am really worried about this. We could lose, like everything.”

Recruited through a Craigslist open casting call after the firing of drummer Isaac Anthony, Sean has the declarative charm of a sleepy six-year-old. With a vast mane of thick blonde coils, he’s the hipster version of Animal—pounding his skins with the manic concentration of an international student cramming for the SATs. He is sweet and preternaturally laid back, prone to removing his pants in public with the proud urgency of a toddler touching his own genitals. “My life’s not that great—but I like it,” says Sean, when I ask him about living at home with his parents in Toronto’s West End and working American Apparel’s stock room. He pauses, deep in thought. “I want to buy some alcohol tonight—I like, need it.”

Also in tow is Hannah’s father Arkady, who chauffeurs half of Foxfire in his beat-up sedan. Together we watch as Hannah poses sensually in a gold lamé halter and hot pants for Norman’s camera outside a kitschy Chinese restaurant, as onlookers slow their steps down Peterborough’s main drag. “Do you think your daughter’s an exhibitionist?” I ask him. “Uh…yes,” he answers diplomatically. “But she’s a talented one.”

An hour before show time, Foxfire cruises through a small gallery opening across the street, stealing skewers of fresh fruit, clad in glittering spandex en route to a perpetual photo shoot. “They’re the next big thing in Toronto,” assures Norman to a head scratching, middle-aged couple. “No—we are the big thing in Toronto,” pronounces Sean. It’s a rock star movie moment, as is the show that follows it. With thunderstorms lighting up the windows of the sparse, tin-roofed coffee shop, concertgoers frolic in the rain as Hannah and Neil jump into the crowd, shaking off raindrops to tracks like “Black Light, Dick Fight,” “Skyrocket,” and “Dancing In The Drunk.” In fact, Peterborough is so much fun that Norman, Sean, Neil, Alex, and I spend the night—climbing the rooftop of the art gallery, shotgunning beers, and dancing to Daft Punk remixes with the locals—eventually crawling into bed in The Spill’s makeshift upstairs apartment for bands. The air is scented with fried American cheese (Alex got hungry) as I curl up next to Alex and Neil in sheets that probably haven’t been washed since the Carter administration. Laughing ourselves to sleep with the kind of mania that only comes with staying up all night in 90-degree heat, Neil and I lie next to each other, nearly spooning—although in retrospect, it’s probably more of a spork.

About two weeks later at a 4 a.m. house party on Bathurst Street, I run into Brendan Canning—the group’s de facto mentor. During the slow start to his solo album Something For All Of Us..., Canning overheard Foxfire playing in the back room of the Cameron House in the summer of 2007. The band’s music reinvigorated his sense that music could be fun.

“There’s no real grand story about it,” says Canning in a later phone interview. “I just really dug them and all their antics and matching outfits. They have this real sense of exuberance, and that goes a long way. I mean their tunes are hilarious, like ‘Black Light Dick Fight,’ or ‘Checking RSP.’”

But if a band wants to be taken seriously, can’t such gimmickry be a liability?

“Well, Kraftwerk had a gimmick, and so did Devo,” Canning reminds me. “That song on [Foxfire’s] MySpace page? It’s not so bad. In fact, it’s definitely a step in the right direction.”

Canvas Media publicist Brendan Bourke thinks differently. The promoter for Feist, Billy Talent, and the Constantines, Bourke moved from New York to Toronto to start up local label Arts & Crafts, and feels that Foxfire “has the look and the sound to go far.”

“In this business, many talented musicians have gone nowhere, and many untalented ones have risen to the top. Foxfire can follow in the footsteps of a Scissor Sisters, or an Of Montreal. I think the next step for them is first and foremost getting some material recorded that they are happy to share with the public. Self-release a single or an EP, something the band can take to online and select print press to start to garner reviews, for booking agents across Canada and the U.S., and to be able to sell at performances. They can shop this material to record labels around the world, should they decide to take this route, or apply for a grant from the Canadian government should they want to record and self-release a full-length.”

“Success is based entirely on the band. How badly they want [it] and what they will do to obtain [it]. It will be hard work. This is a very image-forward band. You are not going to attend a Foxfire show and not remember what they look like, or sound like. This is a major plus. [But] the minus is that some might find it a shtick.”

Foxfire’s image-driven consciousness is something even the band members can’t escape from. After all, they didn’t really get big until they published their photos on Facebook.

“I get like three friend requests a day because of Norman’s photos,” says Hannah. “I feel like there’s this whole other version of me up on Facebook, one that isn’t really me at all.” But as a singer bringing disco back, isn’t there pressure to live up to an image that’s already been created for you?

“I started drinking because going onstage is really scary. You drink because it makes you feel less nervous, and you can have more fun that way, and it’s easier than not drinking…plus, when you play a show you get a lot of free drink tickets anyway,” says Hannah. “But I don’t want to be drinking every night. I know people think I’m like this wild, crazy partier—I’m sure that there’s tons of rumours about me, I know people are talking about me behind my back. But at this point in my life, I just want to feel like my life is balanced—I can go to school [after a brief stint at Sheridan’s musical theatre program, Hannah has re-enrolled at U of T for life science], I can work at the Queen Mother, I’ve got the band. I just want to be as happy as possible.”

Bassist Joe is more candid about Hannah’s transformation:

“When Hannah started being in this band, she wasn’t exposed to a lot of things—and she just went crazy for a while. She had never drank before, she didn’t do cool stuff, or listen to cool music—and she just overcompensated all the time, the way I did when I was 17.”

“From the time that I knew her, Hannah basically went from being young, naïve, and straight laced, to an aggressive social climber, drug addict, and alcoholic hipster.”

It’s now mid-July and Foxfire is hitting the road to play shows in Montreal and Ottawa. Along for the ride is photographer Norman, myself, and a documentary crew comprised of three Ryerson film graduates—a full media team for a band who currently don’t even have songs on their MySpace page.

As we pull into downtown Montreal, Hercules and Love Affair blaring on the stereo, I wonder what expectations the band has for this brief, two-gig excursion—which even now, as they search an available depanneur for booze and cigarettes, is feeling more like a vacation. We spend our first night in Montréal dancing at Vinyl, a tiny Saint Laurent hole in the wall, smoking on the stoop outside, confirming our attendance at the next evening’s house parties. Montreal in the summertime has a palpable energy, flush with the effervescence of youth. Everywhere you look, young people are smoking, drinking on the street, urinating on Sainte Catherine, making out intensely, and puking to a soundtrack of police sirens and techno music. It’s really beautiful.

But when we arrive for a sound check for Sunday’s show, the venue has been unexpectedly changed and the promoter thinks he can get away with paying Foxfire $100 (a fee which, divided by seven, is little over $14 a person). Though the price is eventually haggled up to the band’s usual $300, it sets a damper on the sparsely attended performance. Though Neil ends up rebuffing Land Of Talk’s Liz Powell (“I didn’t know it was her! Shit!”), but when Foxfire takes stage, they play like they have nothing to lose.

Blasting Motown from Fucked Up guitarist Ben Cook’s ‘70s Volkswagen van, our makeshift entourage congregates in the backstreets of Saint Dominique and Guilbault for an impromptu dance party. We blast “ABC” and “Dancing In The Street,” cheering on the cop cars and taxis forced to stop in our reverie, as Hannah squeegees the cars with a device pilfered from the nearby gas station. “This is life—and it’s happening as we live it!” cheers one wasted fan recruited for the party. Arm in arm with the band, singing along to Martha & The Vandellas—I couldn’t agree more.

But things go less smoothly in the nation’s capital. Forced to play an open-mic night at Hitchhiker’s Guide-themed bar Zaphod Beeblebrox, Foxfire performs to literally three people who, at the very least, contend they’re pretty good. Sitting in an empty parking lot late on Monday evening, Joe, Hannah, and Sean pop some Adderall as the band decides to crash in Hull. As we drive down a street of motels and strip clubs, it seems like anything could happen next. Instead, Sean and Hannah climb into bed like two exhausted children, half muttering to themselves as the effects of the drugs kick in. Mixed with a sizeable amount of alcohol and anti-depressant meds, the Adderall has a darker effect on Joe. “I feel so fucked up, I am so fucked up, I need a cigarette,” he mutters, staggering around the parking lot until the motel security is called.

From his days with hHead, Brendan Canning made an acquaintance of Joe’s father, Ron “The Captain” Elaschuk, who managed vintage store 909 on Dundas West. “Joe’s complicated,” said Canning in July. “I mean, he played a show the night his father died.”

Arguably Foxfire’s biggest supporter, Ron died last summer of an unexpected stroke, paralyzed for a week in Toronto Western Hospital (Joe’s parents are divorced, and he’s bounced around downtown ever since he was six years old. At age 16, Joe’s stepfather, reportedly abusive, also passed away). “My dad always wanted me to do my own thing,” says Joe over beers at Parkdale bar The Rhino. “He used to come to every show, even back when the band really sucked. The night we were playing Wavelength [at Sneaky Dee’s] for the first time, he was put into Toronto Western Hospital just down the street. So I thought to myself that I’d just do the show, and play extra hard for him. It took my mind off things at a time when there wasn’t anything that I could do. If I had skipped the show, I would’ve been upset about that as well.”

Adds Neil: “When Joe played that show the night [his dad] was admitted to the hospital, he didn’t tell anyone what was going on. He was just like, ‘Look I have some stuff going on, and I need to talk to you.’ And I didn’t know what to expect. Joe’s one to joke…but that was one of the first times that I really saw him being serious and really needing to talk.”

“The thing about Joe that I don’t think anybody else sees, or gets, is that he’s putting a lot of himself on the line, all the time. But I don’t think it’s very easy for people to see that because he’s isn’t obvious about it, as like, me—who’ll have breakdowns in the middle of rehearsal. I wear my heart on my sleeve, you know? But I think he could learn from me, that sometimes it’s okay to be that guy who needs help. He plays his cards so close to his chest.”

In late December, a breathless Norman calls me to deliver the following news: “Foxfire are breaking up.” Two days earlier, I had caught them at Wrongbar, debuting arena-rock standout “Dangerous Hearts,” a Journey-ish departure from their usual fare. Though Joe hadn’t told the band, the show at Wrongbar was to be his last.

“It was just classic band shit, seven people arguing about stuff that isn’t important,” says Joe. “I was just done with it, and it was getting to a point where it was becoming a negative thing.”

“I’m not trying to be a dictator...but seven people who don’t agree is not a democracy. There were problems with commitment, people showing up late to rehearsal, and leaving early. And I am not a quitter—I don’t want to give up something that has potential. But the way the music business is today, if you’re not on point with your shit, then you just have hangers-on. And I’m not in a band for the sake of being in a band.”

After a climactic discussion at their practice space, Foxfire agreed that they weren’t quite ready to throw in the towel, putting Joe in charge of the band’s rehearsals, bookings, and their future. “We said some really brutal things to each other,” says Hannah, “but I think in the long run, it was really…cathartic. It’s good to know where you stand with people, especially when they’re your [best] friends.”

“I know Joe was ready to move on but I don’t know, we all realized that it’s worth fighting for,” says Neil. “We’ve gotten this far and been writing what we think is the best music we’ve ever written recently. It felt easier just to give it up. But then it’s harder to start over, right? And I don’t know if any of us are ready to do that yet.”

“Now I want to take this to the furthest point before we walk away from it. Now, we’re just ready to play again as a band,” says Neil, reciting the band’s goals: to land on the cover of NOW Magazine and open for Broken Social Scene.

At Joe’s urging, Neil has written a new song, entitled “Love Is Not Enough.”

“I don’t know…just sometimes love is not enough. Not enough—for me. I’m not a one-man, or a one-woman guy. And I don’t fall into monogamy very easily, and it often feels forced when I do. But really, I am a serial monogamist—it’s just that sometimes that I’m a serial monogamist for like, three days, or one night…“ admits Neil.

“So I think this band is like being in a relationship. I mean it’s wanting ultimately the same things, which is to take this as far as we can and make the best music possible, but we all have pretty different ideas of how to do that. Recently we referred to it as a seven-person marriage, and we’re partly staying together for the kids, you know? And those are the songs we love so much, that we want to see develop—and we want to have more, we want to have more kids. So we’re willing to work through our shit, we’ll sleep in separate beds if we have to, and we’ll even…”

“Go into counselling?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

Neil Rankin: “It’s a seven-person marriage and we’re partly staying together for the kids”
- The Varsity

By Joshua Khan. January 27, 2009

Nestled in the back of the Horseshoe Tavern, Toronto seems quieter than usual. Stragglers occupied the bar, sipping aged alcoholic potions known to make souls hollow. Urban hipsters scattered themselves around the venue’s average-sized stage, discussing life’s dramatic disturbances and exciting discoveries. While the musicians, slated for the night’s musical bill, lounged in the comfortable and surprisingly flashy seats at the back of the dusky room. Young as the April night, the group positioned to my right were getting ready for their performance. Unlike the fashion oddballs that claim Toronto as their nest, the collection of musicians we’re civilized people. Their style gleamed under the dim lights and echoed across the room full of adult wanderers looking for a spontaneous evening. But their voices broke their sophisticated look once a cordial conversation was initiated. “We brought blood,” one of the lanky musicians announced while shaking a pouch filled with a crimson liquid, “so get ready.”

As Foxfire assembled on stage, bystanders took attention and casually wandered towards them. Before the musicians even signaled the start of their performance, they were enclosed by a crowd the venue had not seen all day. The Horseshoe was known for showcasing memorable talent such as The Police and Our Lady Peace, but this was unheard of for an act that was almost completely chartless on the internet. But then it happened. The legendary tavern’s atmosphere changed in an instant. Gone were the inexperienced musicians as the stage held home to seven individuals designed to emit an incomparable sound. A noise so unique that it provoked a large crowd to detach itself from life and do one simple action: dance.

Despite its proclaimed style and grace, Toronto’s music scene is a hard one to infest. Even though they’re surrounded by sightly venues and approximately 2.5 million people, instant fame isn’t an achievement that’s spoonfed to musicians. Foxfire knows that. With each of their seven members dispersed around the city, its been a challenge for the seven-piece disco rock outfit to collaborate on a frequent basis. But for the Toronto artists, their life goes by an impulsive book.

“I started e-mailing Anna when she was in Australia,” says vocalist Neil Rankin, while eagerly tapping a disfigured table the group joined together at Paddington Pump, a charming restaurant near the St. Lawrence Market in downtown Toronto.”I told her I wanted to do something but I needed someone who could play music. So once she came along, I started to write some things and then I asked all of these people to join and it just kind of went from there.”

By “all these people”, Rankin means his musical comrades. Joining the singer/keyboardist are Hannah Krapivinsky (vocals, keyboards), Anna Edwards and Alex Ralph (guitar), Joe Elaschuk (bass), Andre Lowy (trumpet, synthesizer) and Sean Dunal (drums). Seven musicians seems like a crowd when it comes to being a band, but the musicians have learned to deal with the number. When the group was first born in 2005, their magic number was nine. Jam sessions were enclosed in a bedroom and their sound was strapped to the name tag they adapted as newborn musicians. As Foxfire Forest, the band’s schedule was wrapped around fun and simply playing music. They were a country-rock group, and instead of focusing on becoming popular musicians, they were lost in a universe created solely for organized musical chaos. But like all innocent newborns, Foxfire was destined to leave the home built for their existence.

“The name Foxfire for me, really represents what we are and it says a lot more than Foxfire Forest,” explains trumpeter Andre Lowy. “Like now, we are a totally different band. The first band name did represent us back then as a group, but then things started sprawling and we really weren’t sure what we were doing. We were much more chaotic back then, but now, we’ve grown to be more focused.”

Organization and communication is a key to success and like most bands serious about their music, Foxfire tries their best to work as a group. Growing as a band in Toronto can be exhilarating and also tiresome, especially when you create a sound the world has stashed away with their once-beloved record collections. Although their genre died decades ago, Foxfire took the simple route to stardom and just started booking and playing shows like regular musicians. As time went on, a diverse fan base was created and their popularity started to soar at an undeniable pace.

“We tend to have a lot of shows where we end up having a bigger crowd than the headliner,” remarks bassist Joe Elaschuk. “Like we’d always be the opener and we’d just the rock the night.”

Foxfire’s reputation instantly sparked the interest of other rising musicians. Before they took the world by storm with spaced-out technicolour music videos and their first major studio album, one talented group got the chance to share the same stage with the off-the-wall Torontonians.

“To be honest, we are just a great opening band,” smirks singer Hannah Krapivinsky. “Like opening for Yeasayer and MGMT at El Mocambo last year was awesome. The guys from MGMT are really nice, like really nice. Like they were there for the whole show. They didn’t leave or anything like that, they were right at the front for our show and the two of them were like ‘holy shit, this is awesome’.”
Joe Elaschuk, Neil Rankin, Hannah Krapivinsky, Anna Edwards, Sean Dunal, Andre Lowy and Alex Ralph

From left to right: Joe Elaschuk, Neil Rankin, Hannah Krapivinsky, Anna Edwards, Sean Dunal, Andre Lowy and Alex Ralph (Photo Credit: Norman Wong)

Creating a spectacular ear-attraction seems to just come natural for Foxfire. After changing their title when they first started, the musicians decided to alter their sound. In turn, it created a form of music one’s ear can easily get attached to. Powered by riveting guitars, toe-seizuring drum beats and bewitching keyboards, Foxfire fuses together a once-cherished disco sound with a bit of dance rock and a splash of new wave. Such a combination may seem feeble in today’s music industry, but it’s helped the aspiring musicians. Numbers like “Dancing In The Drunk” and “Black Light Dick Fight” are enchanting because they innocently force one to loosen up and stake their claim on the dance-floor. Another integral part of Foxfire’s music is their two singers. Along with handing each other the reins to vocal domination, Neil and Hannah are also an astonishing duo behind the microphone.

Most of the tracks Foxfire creates come from one of their collective jam sessions or from the tedious work of one of the members.

“It usually starts as a half-made song from one person, most likely Joe,” says Lowy. “Like he’ll create something on his computer and it will be the basis of a song. We’ll listen to it and then write our own parts unless Joe came up with them already.”

The reason for the disco rock sound is due to Foxfire’s vast amount of influences. Aside from being disco followers and Led Zeppelin fanatics, the group comes from a lot of different musical backgrounds such as bluegrass, New Orleans jazz and big band. But when it comes to their brand of music, each member agrees that they’re not aiming to imitate their influences.

“Our music belongs in this decade, right now,” states Rankin. “As much as we’ve taken from the past, we’re making music what people want to hear right now, in this decade. Like the idea is take aspects from those times and just push forward and create something new.”

“We’re not dreaming of trying to be really cool and we’re not trying to fit into Toronto” adds Krapivinsky. “Like I’m sure there are other bands around here that are like us, but we’re trying to work collectively and create a sound that’s ours.”

Similar to most premier food markets, the St. Lawrence Market is full of diversity. A passerby can be enjoying a delectable sample of a vendor’s finest gourmet cheese, and then within a blink of an eyelash, they can be admiring different bakery delicacies with names difficult to pronounce. This unusual destination was on Foxfire’s agenda for an ordinary Saturday afternoon. The notable smell of fish may have been the reason why the Toronto-based band chose to meet at this location, but part of it was probably due to their instinctive nature and how close-knit they are as musicians and friends. Such co-operation can be hard to find these days, especially with more and more bands disappearing in today’s perishing music industry. As a group of seven, Foxfire is thankful for the luck and support they’ve had, especially with Toronto’s music scene being quieter than usual.

“Not having a lot of stuff on our MySpace and around the internet and what not kind of helped us out because it forced people to go to shows and see us in-person,” says Krapivinsky.

“It can be hard to be a band,” adds Rankin. “Like in our case, nobody really knew how to be in one. We started off really young and we didn’t know how to get our ideas across so that everybody could be heard. So we just kind of hoped everything would happen naturally and we’d end up figuring out how to be a band.”

In order to achieve that sort of enlightenment, Rankin revealed the answer could be found by thinking less and doing more.

“You just have to be a band and don’t focus on anything else. Most importantly, you have to make sure you’re making music you appreciate and you think that’s good, or else it won’t mean a thing to anyone.” - Blare Magazine