Album Review: The Bible 2

For a band known for lyrics about murdering kittens, depression, and hatred of humankind, “The Bible 2” will certainly be regarded by longtime fans as a stab at “maturity” for AJJ (formerly Andrew Jackson Jihad). Once again featuring producer John Congleton (who was responsible for the fuzzed-out, country-fried sounds of 2012’s “Christmas Island”) this album finds the band plunging even deeper into the psychedelic, humorous, and emotionally crushing niche they’ve carved out for themselves.

Opener “Cody’s Theme” immediately brings to mind such tracks as “Temple Grandin” and “Kokopelli Face Tattoo” through use of crunchy acoustic guitars and hum-worthy cello melodies. The lyrics, though not quite as “edgy” as AJJ’s earlier work, are undeniably quirky and personal, a hallmark of singer/songwriter Sean Bonnette’s. Although many older fans of the band will disapprove of this new approach, it’s undeniable that when performed live these songs will get the kids going in the way that only AJJ can.

The album drifts into more mellow territory early on by means of the ballad “Junkie Church,” an almost entirely acoustic track about love, hospitals, and intoxication. This trend continues not much later on the album’s centerpiece, the deeply somber yet somehow hopeful “No More Shame, No More Fear, No More Dread,” which really shows how far the band has come as songwriters. Although on paper, a song about overcoming negativity and depression wouldn’t fit too well with Cannibal Corpse references and lines about a hideous and worthless world, in practice Bonnette integrates those pieces together in a charming and moving way.

Never ones to let listeners sit still for too long, the next track “Goodbye, Oh Goodbye” kicks in next with a whirlwind of distorted guitars and cello. The instrumentation is complemented with strangely hilarious lyrics about sleeping in to avoid going to church, as well as darker snapshots of being violently beaten and locked in a basement.

The next three tracks are perfect examples of what makes AJJ so lovable. “White Worms” and “Terrifyer” are both quite strange, as well as featuring some of the album’s best messages about being oneself (“Some days you’re a member of Queen/Other days you’re a Kottonmouth King/Some days you’re Emilio Esteves/Other days you’re Charlie Sheen”). To boot, “My Brain is a Human Body” is a great slice of catchy and fuzzy weirdness.

“Small Red Boy” and “When I’m a Dead Boy” manage to close off the album in a way that is altogether haunting, funny, quirky, and deeply moving. The aforementioned is a sweeping, dynamic, and emotional song, one of the longest the band has ever written, building from solely acoustic guitar to a full-band explosion. The album’s final track is a short and simple closer about the contemplation of death, with Bonnette instructing someone to mix his ashes with concrete in order to build a bench suitable for skating in his hometown of Arizona.

AJJ have done it again. Fans, of course, will complain about how this is nothing more than “Christmas Island Part 2,” a failed attempt at maturity, yadda yadda, but this isn’t the case. This is “Christmas Island 2.0,” a defiant and profound statement that this incarnation of the band is here to stay, and is better than ever before.