Jeshua Erickson is a master and a hack, a songsmith and a dreamer. His songs make me shiver down to my little hairs and at the same time look into the mirror with disgust. He makes me question the role I play in the suffering of the world, and the role I play in the lives of others. All with a few words and a few chords.
Swords into Plowshares is Jeshua’s masterpiece until now, but, God willing, not his only. As a songwriter, Jeshua is an orchid in full bloom and a spring sparrow feeding us his words: He gets it, and he chews it up, and he opens our mouths and he opens our ears, and he pours in this mash of truth. His fingers find a way to pull out what they need to, and his voice strains against its strings. And his words hit the place deep below the gut where everything counts twice.
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