It’s been more than a decade since the All-American Rejects shared a full-length album with the world.
In that time, the band took a break from making radio-ready anthems and split from their major label. They stopped releasing music altogether, save for a few singles here and there. But last year, the band came surging back into public view with the success of their viral DIY house party tour, where they performed everywhere from a cornfield to a bowling alley. Now, after the fervor of those live shows, the All-American Rejects are back to recapture that energy with their fifth studio album, Sandbox.
The All-American Rejects have never given less of a fuck than they do on Sandbox. In a literal sense, this marks the band’s first independent release through their own imprint. The band isn’t worried about label expectations or pleasing mainstream audiences. Instead, they are focused on doing whatever they want. With Sandbox, AAR embrace all of their artistic whims, good or not, creating a mix of 12 often strong yet scattered songs.
The album starts out strong with the relentless “Easy Come, Easy Go,” where frontman Tyson Ritter screams “You only love me when I’m out of control.” It’s one of the most vivacious tracks on Sandbox, channeling the punk-rock energy of their recent live shows with distorted amps and heavy chugs. Similarly, “Get This” is another highlight that recalls the band’s pop-punk past with an accessible chorus that could easily fit on their self-titled LP from 2002.
But the All-American Rejects are careful to not get bogged down by nostalgia. One of the most compelling elements across Sandbox is how they tap into the band’s roots to further define what they call their “blue-collar rock.” Sure, their Oklahoma upbringing could be heard on earlier records like 2008’s When the World Comes Down, but it’s fully realized in the new music: On the folky “Green Isn’t Yellow,” Ritter paints barefoot vignettes from his youth in the landlocked state with sharp, vivid songwriting, while “For Mama” is a melancholic, country-inspired heartfelt moment.
But ultimately, the band’s unlimited creativity and clutter of genres give Sandbox a messy feel. Ritter described the album to RS in March as “very random musically” — and that comes across. One moment, the All-American Rejects offer a bass-heavy, Sombr-esque moment on “Clothesline,” a grungy thrasher (“Staring Back at Me”) the next. This chameleonic approach isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it does hint that AAR might have lost grip on the hook-driven charm that defined their music for 12 years. On earlier hits like “Swing Swing” and “Gives You Hell,” the band’s rebellious energy shone through with chanty choruses and pop-rock riffs, but here, they’re more rebels without a cause, trying on different sounds for the hell of it.
The scattered quality doesn’t leave much room for Sandbox to really piece together a cohesive statement, either. After 14 years away, the All-American Rejects have all the freedom in the world, but it’s not quite clear what they are trying to do, or say, with it.
