In Blackfox4, Atlanta’s Blackfox conjure something that feels less like a record and more like a current running through the air: vivid, uncontained, and charged with emotion. The band’s fourth release thrums with the confidence of a group who’ve lived inside their sound long enough to bend it to their will. It’s rock music that remembers where it came from, but it’s also reaching for something celestial.
Built on the interplay of three lead vocalists and a dense weave of guitars, synths, and percussion, Blackfox4 bridges the muscular and the meditative. It moves through alt rock, art pop, and psychedelic blues with instinct rather than calculation, giving the songs a lived-in, human quality. There’s grit here, yes, but also grace, a kind of weary beauty that shines through the distortion.
Blackfox have always been a band of dualities. They’re Southern but unbound, rough-edged yet cinematic, grounded yet expansive. Here, those opposites spark against each other until they form light. The guitars glow and growl in equal measure, the drums pulse like a heartbeat, and the vocals, whether tender or defiant, anchor the record with quiet conviction.
What’s unique about Blackfox4 is its sense of scale. Each track feels like a small world, stitched together by the same weather system of tone and emotion. The production breathes, leaving just enough space for vulnerability to show through the volume. By the time the record fades, you’re left with the afterimage of something luminous, a kind of spiritual static still buzzing in the silence.
Blackfox4 isn’t about nostalgia or reinvention; it’s about presence. It’s a record that hums with the electricity of being alive, of holding tension and release in the same breath. Under nothing but the electric sky, Blackfox sound utterly themselves: raw, radiant, and awake!
