Send "Andrew Jackson " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Sputnikmusic |
 At the insane, almost dangerously communal Andrew Jackson Jihad gig I went to, Sean Bonnette gave a forty-song performance worthy of the greatest before laying down the simple ethos behind his songs. “This is a song I wrote while I was really bummed and also really stoked,” he said of Can’t Maintain’s “Truckers are the Blood,” before strumming it, a song with chords more major than the crowd it was played to, a song burdened with the weight of lyrics bordered between serious and stupid as fuck. Hats off to Bonnette for analysing himself as well as he does in his songs, because that’s exactly what Andrew Jackson Jihad are: the band who you think of as the wackiest bastards on the planet as you ready yourself to weep to their song. I foolishly didn’t trust them to pull off songs like “Fucc The Devil” and "Sorry Bro" when I read their titles and stared aghast at their internet slang. And those are the best songs of Knife Man, both stepping back and forth on that blurry line of Bonnette’s that circles some ugly drain of humour, sarcasm and full-on seriousness. “Fucc The Devil” starts with his proclamation that he’s physically going to take the devil in his mouth, but ends with the quite serious words of a man who, through social work and all, has had enough: “the things that I have seen are turning me into a shitty human being.” So yeah, you can believe Bonnette hitting both ends of the spectrum: psyched enough to physically take his demons and ruin them (and what a hilarious turn of phrase), but just as hopelessly aware of being ruined for life. And in “Sorry Bro” the band are once again trying to figure everything out for themselves through their song: Bonnette might call his music one thing and then another, and in this song he travels between two opposites, unsure of whether to root for his opposite or loathe them completely. We’ve seen Andrew Jackson Jihad cover issues like bipolar professors throughout their career, and whether or not Knife Man is overproduced or over-orchestrated, it carries the same happy-sad belief: a song can be universalised if it dares to be absolutely everything. The songs on Knife Man try to be as expansively social as they are personal, as much about breakup as they are about the disturbing way humans fuck themselves up. “Sad Songs” is whiny and neurotic because everyone who listens to it is. That’s Andrew Jackson Jihad through and through, Bonnette too transparent to bother renaming himself properly (“who fuckin’ gives a rat’s ass Steve, just write a love song!”). By this point, though, there’s an obviousness to why everyone arrives at an Andrew Jackson Jihad gig and screams a line like this- the pain is kinda communal- and in that sense, Knife Man could, under different circumstances, become one of the great American albums, even as the duo veer further away from being purists in folk or punk. It takes a lot to write a song that bares its soul as well as these ones- drawing on anything from Bonnette’s masturbation habits to his dark dirty rifle fetishes- but it takes something a little more special to connect your personal pain so politically as Knife Man does. Masturbator and general helpless case Bonnette may be after a break up, yes, but “Zombies by The Cranberries by Andrew Jackson Jihad” recognises how all too generally helpless the homeless are too. “People II 2” makes depression a national theme, referencing prescription pills and Xanex subscriptions. Bonnette makes the honest pain his country keeps to itself something like a huge news bulletin on Knife Man, something inescapable whether it's just kinda lame (the breakup in “Distance”) or slapstick (the man getting hit by a car in “People II 2”). Knife Man is so very communal, so very universal, but it should be such a tortuous listen. Shouldn’t it?...full text |
| Absolutepunk |
| Lost in the jungle, you'd never know what to expect: anaconda attacks, red flaming arrows, and unidentifiable creatures that creep in the moonlight. Somewhere in the kooky maze of shenanigans, there's a duo sneaking around by way of Phoenix, Arizona. That duo is a rare species known as Andrew Jackson Jihad (a folk outfit comprised of Sean Bonette and Ben Gallaty, who are surrounded by other musicians from time to time). And although their latest effort is entitled Knife Man, they won't be slicing anyone with the proverbial knife. Not yet, at least. As Candy Cigarettes and Cap Guns introduced quirky bare-bones folk, People Who Can Eat Are the Luckiest People in the World toyed with jack-in-the-box Nazis and cannibals poised to bring eventual doom, and its successor, Can't Maintain, got down and dirty with a lusty sax and kazoo hypnotisms. The band's album progression mirrored an adventurous scaling of Machu Picchu, in the sense that rhythm sections and more fully-rounded compositions were visible flag points in each production milestone. Knife Man is no exception to the pattern of progression. In sixteen musical tales, it semi-pawns acoustics for a distorted makeover, ghostly experimental effects, and fires conundrums that are direct and personable. And as always, it comes with a cherry of nutty humor on top (see short opener "Michael Jordan of Drunk Driving" and "Zombie by the Cranberries by AJJ" for hints). Acoustic number "Fucc The Devil" immediately boards the sexual expletives train making it opportune to take a fun jab at one of the Devil's many orifices. If the poppy jingle that's patriotically entitled "American Tune" doesn't make an obvious enough lyrical expectation, it echoes similarities to "Fuck White People" (Candy Cigarettes and Cap Guns), with lines such as "if I see a penny on the ground, I leave it alone and fucking flip it/I'm a straight white male in America, I got all the luck I need," nailing articulate diatribes on skin color, gender, and sexual orientation to the walls. From an instrument perspective, the bizarre musical themes expressed throughout the album (slower-paced "No One" showcases Bonnette's wide-ranging bluesy pipes, and "Sad Songs" cues in a cowboy saloon-era style intermission) pour more than sensible cohesion into their tell-all narratives on violence, destitution, apathy and spiritual sadism via clunky organs, electric pianos, mandolins, slide guitars, unruly brass appearances, and metronomic washboards....full text |
| Theneedledrop |
| With an almost unmeasurable poetic bitterness, Andrew Jackson Jihad are as sharp as ever on their new album, Knife Man. As usual, the music here is about the lyrics. The chord progressions are familiar copies of folk songs and punk tunes. Hell, some of the songs even sound similar to tracks from the band’s previous album. Still, the lyrics here throw me into fits of laughter and depression. These tracks make me swing back and forth like an emotional pendulum. That’s the show of a great Andrew Jackson Jihad album. Well, to me, anyway....full text |
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