Fox Stevenson
Sunk Cost Fallacy
Fox Stevenson has never been one to sit quietly in a genre box. He writes like a songwriter, produces like a raver, and somehow still manages to sound like the guy next door who overthinks everything at 3 a.m.
His new album, Sunk Cost Fallacy, dropped June 27th on UKF’s Pilot imprint, and it’s the most “him” he’s ever sounded. Every part of it is self-built: written, sung, produced, and mastered entirely by Stevenson. That kind of control can sometimes lead to overcooked records, but here, it does the opposite. It feels raw. Clear-eyed. Almost like it wasn’t made for anyone else but ended up hitting everyone anyway.
His new album, Sunk Cost Fallacy, dropped June 27th on UKF’s Pilot imprint, and it’s the most “him” he’s ever sounded. Every part of it is self-built: written, sung, produced, and mastered entirely by Stevenson. That kind of control can sometimes lead to overcooked records, but here, it does the opposite. It feels raw. Clear-eyed. Almost like it wasn’t made for anyone else but ended up hitting everyone anyway.
The sound moves fast, electronics layered with pop instincts, sharp hooks, and a streak of punk energy that keeps things from getting too clean. One minute you’re in a synth-soaked chorus, the next it’s crashing drums and vocals that sound like they’ve been lived in.
It’s not a concept album, but the title gives you the lens. Sunk Cost Fallacy, the idea that we keep going, keep investing. That theme slips in everywhere: regret, momentum, the urge to push forward just because stopping would hurt more. And yet, the whole record pulses with life.
There’s no fluff here. No filler. Just a guy doing everything himself. It’s chaotic. It’s precise. It’s honest. And it might be one of the most personal electronic albums of the year, whether that was the plan or not.
It’s not a concept album, but the title gives you the lens. Sunk Cost Fallacy, the idea that we keep going, keep investing. That theme slips in everywhere: regret, momentum, the urge to push forward just because stopping would hurt more. And yet, the whole record pulses with life.
There’s no fluff here. No filler. Just a guy doing everything himself. It’s chaotic. It’s precise. It’s honest. And it might be one of the most personal electronic albums of the year, whether that was the plan or not.