When I hear some jackass saying, “There’s no political punk anymore,” I just wanna punch the douche. Granted, there are less shrill, blunt political songs asking Phyllis Schaffley to “ram it up her cunt” (The Dead Kennedys said it; I’m just quoting.) nowadays, but I think this is a good thing. Why? Because I find no shortage of smart folks taking stock of their lives and looking at pictures much bigger than they are—from the neighborhoods they live in, to the national political scene, to the glaciers melting (all which The Shaking Hands deal with), but it’s all wrapped together into a seamless burrito of life. It’s one big log. Feeling like absolute shit is directly tied in with a dickhead running the country with regressive policies. And this makes the songs more timeless than being so literal and making a song called, say, “Sarah Palin Would Look Great with a Moose Cock Moustache,” that has its place fixed in such a short period of relevant time. (Quick, who was Phyllis Schaffley?) So, I put the Shaking Hands in the same gruff-voiced, anthemic vein of No Truth Lies and Watson, with some distant echoes of the Beltones in the background. Powerful, motivating songs that sing about a life looked at fully, and, often, achingly, in a subtle way that doesn’t need to separate daily life from political statements.
–todd (ADD / Kiss Of Death)