Andrew Jackson Jihad, Knife Man. I missed this band when it came through town a couple months back. They’re probably wonderful live—scraggly and scruffy and distractable. The songs and playing are a mash of the rambling musings of a Jad Fair and the punk-rock & roll charge of Titus Andronicus. There are some wild titles—Fucc the Devil,
“Zombie by the Cranberries by Andrew Jackson Jihad”—yes, the band name is inserted into the title—opens thus: “If I had a cigarette for every time a perfect stranger asked me for a cigarette, then I’d have enough cigarettes to get me through the day. And if I had some spare change every time a perfect stranger asked me for some spare change, then I’d have enough spare change to take care of these bills I need to pay. Dude, I know that times are tough. But that does not mean you can have my stuff. So how about a ride? I can drive you to the shelter. We can eat dinner at the Andre House and you can even take a shower. Because I think you deserve much more than a smoke and fifty cents. You deserve to be self-sufficient, buy your own cigarettes” It then breaks into a sardonic chorus of “Oh, When the Saints Go Marching In” and yet more conflicted musings on charity, selfishness and social values.
The youth of today, working out their issues. That’s rock & roll. Andrew Jackson Jihad does so with considerably more words and insight than a lot of other bands.