Andrew Jackson Jihad – a review

Lantern reviews indie-folk band Andrew Jackson Jihad

In their 2007 release “People Who Eat People are the Luckiest People in the World”, aggressive indie-folk band Andrew Jackson Jihad do not fail to deliver an experience to the listener. That’s exactly what the album is – an experience. The steadfast (and yes, it is fast) rhythm of each song carries to the next, and the next, and the next. Listening from start to finish could drive even the most down-to-earth human insane in the best way possible.

Kicking off the ‘experience’ with the pilot track “Rejoice”, they profess in the most blunt way possible, that we should “Rejoice, despite the fact this world will kill you” in a plethora of different, equally creative and twisted ways. Everything is burning, everyone is panicking, and the world is ending, but we should still celebrate, because hey, we’re trying our best, right? The next couple of tracks blend together with nonsensical lyrics and speedy banjo riffs that would put even Mumford and Sons to shame. When listening straight through the first 5 tracks, there is no distinction between where one ends and another one begins. They simply flow into each other with exactly the same, well, everything.

This pattern, however, is broken with track 8, titled “A Song Dedicated to the Memory of Stormy the Rabbit”, where the heart-racing riffs died and were replaced with lackadaisical basslines and xylophone rhythms (not to worry, though. The panicky vocals do ensue), providing the perfect beat to sway to while singer Sean Bonnette shouts on about the aches and pains of growing older. This follows through for one track more, and then is replaced with, yet again, the screaming man punishing his guitar strings for the rest of the album.

Andrew Jackson Jihad couldn’t have done much of anything to make this record better. The energy, tone, and depth they bring to the table is incredible. Their lyrics flow like the twisted, heartbreaking poetry they’ve intended the songs to be, leaving the listener longing for their youth (even though their audience is generally only angsty teenagers who are still in their youth) and yearning for more. Anyone could set aside the 25 minutes it takes to enjoy this album, and surely would become a different person after they’ve experienced this grand, um, ‘experience’.