Really Like Band Practice (Demo)

by Fox Boy And

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about

Hey, if you're genuinely broke and you want this album... Email us and we'll try hook you up, ok?
foxboyand@gmail.com

This is our first demo. It was all home-recorded, DIY style, over a single afternoon. You can consider Really Like Band Practice to be our blueprint; a preview of things to come.

It's been a songwriting adventure for Fox Boy And, with a variety of styles and experiments infringing on our folk sound.

credits

released May 18, 2017

Fox Boy And are:

Tom Doyle - Guitar
Cian Hackett - Mandolin, Baritone Ukulele, Backing Vocals and Stompbox
Darren Kelly - Washboard
Emma Walsh - Lead Vocals and Looking Pretty

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about

Fox Boy And Ireland

Nihilist sociopaths form shitty folk band: Available for birthday or death-day parties via Skype.

contact / help

Contact Fox Boy And

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Track Name: D.I.Y. Orgasms (Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains Cover)
I've got my forty ounce, and a system to overthrow.
Know what to worry about, and nowhere to go.
I traded in my hope for a hangover and a headache.
I'm contemplating rope, but can't tie knots that great.

Who needs love? Not me!
Who needs friends? I got me!
Who needs drugs? Me!
Who needs sex? I got me!

I've got my twenty ounce, and front row seats to the parking lot.
I'm on the corner now, watching them make out a lot.
I'd trade in all my pain for all your priceless pillow talk.
but I'm not too old enough, and i think i care too much.

But who needs love? Not me!
Who needs friends? I got me!
Who needs beer? Me!
Who needs sex? I got me!
Track Name: I Love You Like an Alcoholic (The Taxpayers Cover)
Heavy humid night. Corner of Park and Main. Cast that first
glance: your smile, my veins at maximum capacity, blood pumping
so fast. My girl, if looks gave heart attacks. The dangerous
men in the shadows were like an audience, and even the meanest
among them had a little shine in their eyes when they saw us
walk by. Walked about twenty blocks talking about good bars and
better towns than this one. Kissed that first night, and then
the rain opened up the sky to get one last kiss – I love you
like an alcoholic. I love you like a statuette. I need you
like I need a broken leg.
I was getting off the late shift, attempting to recover.
Crumpled up the bus pass and tossed it into the gutter. Some
handsome dark stranger, you were standing there on the corner.
You had those compelling magnetized eyes that you must have lost
when you got older. Seven blocks in, my fingers brushed your
hand; I blushed and you laughed, but you seemed a little sad. I
ain't one to jump a ship, but I absolutely knew – I was six
steps in when I fell into you. One last kiss, I love you like a
broken pot. I love you like a pack of dogs. I need you like I
need a gaping head wound.