Mischief Brew was an anarchist folk-punk band. A wicked concoction by Erik … Read Full Bio ↴Mischief Brew was an anarchist folk-punk band. A wicked concoction by Erik Petersen – a musical feast falling somewhere between the categories of pirate punk, Celtic folk, gypsy swing, devilish jazz, American olde-tyme and country. It’s good music to stomp, kick, pogo, jitterbug, waltz, drink, twist and shout to – whether the performance is solo acoustic or with a backing band of accordion, drums, and mandolin.

Erik started making music at a young age, but it wasn’t until age 16 that he started playing shows with his punk band, The Orphans. Influenced by “Fresh Fruit”-era Dead Kennedys and “Worlds Apart”-era Subhumans, the band had released a 7” (“Anthems for Doomed Youth,” 1996) before half of them were even old enough to drive. They officially disbanded in 2000 and Erik continued to make music…digging into the past for a more traditional sound to mix with punk ideals. The result was “Mirth,” a demo of acoustic punk influenced by medieval danses and raucous Romany dust-raising ditties (2000). The tape was rough and scratchy - yet it was clear that there were solid anthems buried under that hiss, which was evident by the scope of the tape, spanning city and state. Logically, a live show was expected – and despite the drums and extra instrumentation on the tape (all layered on a four-track recorder), there was no band. Over the years, seeing “Mischief Brew” on a flyer meant you were just seeing Erik Petersen with an acoustic guitar or mandolin. There was no PA in the beginning, just a roomful of West Philly’s finest rabble-rousers singing along to the “Mirth” songs. And for quite some time, this is how things stayed until it was necessary to deliver a proper recording.

“Bellingham & Philadelphia” (2003) is a split LP/CD with Washington state’s roving songcrafter Robert Blake. Meanwhile, Fistolo Records (the label Erik co-founded and runs with his wife Denise) released the “Bakenal” CDep. It was hard to believe that all the songs were recorded in the same session and split between two releases, as they were completely different experiences soundwise. “Bellingham” was more Phil Ochs/Bob Dylan-style political folk, while “Bakenal” delivered gypsy-punk swing, Poguesy drinking songs, and even a drunken tango. Two years of touring followed, from punk bars to basement shows. Meanwhile, Erik visited the studio here and there to record a few acoustic tracks for the Orphans discography (“Raise the Youth,” 2004), and the Mischief Brew “Oh Sweet Misery b/w All About the Class War” single (2005).

For an official full-length, Mischief Brew needed a non-traditional studio (by punk standards), since the songs required a more varied instrumentation to bring forth the gypsy melodies and circus beats. Impressed by the work of Israeli producer Tamir Muskat (Balkan Beat Box, Firewater, Big Lazy…), Erik visited the Brooklyn studio that he runs. Vibromonk has produced records by such festive acts as Gogol Bordello, World/Inferno Friendship Society, Firewater and more…the kind of place that knows how to mic a marimba. For this record, a backing band was assembled consisting of bass, drums, accordion, clarinet, and junk percussion. Guest appearances by Sturgeon (Leftover Crack), Peter Hess (Guignol), and Franz Nicolay (World/Inferno, The Hold Steady) bring the album even more character. “Smash the Windows” (2005) includes the folk-punk anthems “Nomads Revolt” and “Roll Me Through the Gates of Hell” – but also the epic tale “The Gypsy, The Punk, and The Fool” and the klez/ska rendition of “A Liquor Never Brewed.” The album closes with “Departure Arrival,” a sweet folk lament about leaving the comforts of home for uncharted cities and towns. “Departure” was also featured on “Up the Stairs and Through the Hall,” a 2xCD compilation of independent artists and bands from Philadelphia.

But wait, there’s more! Meanwhile, Mischief Brew released a split 7” with David Dondero (an influence on Bright Eyes) and another with -Bread & Roses (Boston-based labor folk at its best). The newest recording, “Songs from Under the Sink,” is a batch of anarcho-folk songs written between 1997-2002…finally put on LP and CD once and for all. If it had to all fit under one banner, it would read, "Carnivalesque!"

Citizens Drive
Mischief Brew Lyrics

Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴

No one knows my politics like the postman, he brings me radical

I bet the neighbours are wondering what i got in this bag

They say the city virus broke its borders once again, fell down the lane, packed up and ran

Where the doors all lock at nine, every creek is like cannonfire

There's an old crooked man in an old crooked house he says i don't open up on all saints day

Ya never know what devil might be wating there to steal your tv.

As he sits there watching a story about another robbery, he turns on a light to stave off thieves

The world is sick i think its dying, i watch it go through these dusty blinds

Alive in these houses locked inside there's blood on the door and candlelight

Night close your eyes and wish it bye call up the police to sing their lullabies

Late our hero john wayne put guns in our living rooms gates round our names give us a face to join up and hate keep tiny town pure and sane behind these bolts theres a brewing revolt and it rusts in every one of us

So put a yellow ribbon on your exterminator and head westward across the tracks

I got a dream where we all say see you later and never say we'll come back

Im looking out the window down on citizens drive where all the elders are terrified, will that be you and i?

Overall Meaning

The song “Citizens Drive” by Mischief Brew, seems to be written as a commentary on the state of society, particularly in urban areas, and the sense of isolation and disconnection that many feel within it. The lyrics speak from the perspective of someone who is oppressed by the political and social climate of their community, where the “city virus” seems to have infected everything. The postman symbolizes the only connection to the outside world that the singer has, and the fact that “no one knows my politics like the postman” suggests that even those who are supposed to be impartial are affected by the prevailing ideology.

The feeling of paranoia and unease is underscored by the lyrics about the old crooked man who refuses to open his doors on All Saints Day. This is an example of the breakdown of trust and community that often occurs in minority groups or areas that have been left behind by development. The singer then paints a broad picture of society, describing it as sick and dying. The fact that they are watching it through dusty blinds suggests a sense of distance and detachment.

The chorus seems to be a mixture of resignation and defiance, acknowledging the power structures that keep people locked inside their houses while also recognizing the potential for revolt. The reference to John Wayne and the guns in our living rooms is likely a reference to the way popular culture has glorified violence and created cultural icons that embody a sense of rugged individualism. Finally, the singer looks out on Citizens Drive and wonders if they too will become one of the elder citizens that are terrified of the world outside.

Line by Line Meaning

No one knows my politics like the postman, he brings me radical
The postman knows my beliefs and delivers radical literature to me

I bet the neighbors are wondering what I got in this bag
My neighbors are curious about the contents of my bag

They say the city virus broke its borders once again, fell down the lane, packed up and ran
The spread of corruption in the city has surged once again and is moving down the lane

Where the doors all lock at nine, every creek is like cannonfire
At nine o'clock, the doors lock and every noise sounds as loud as gunshots

There's an old crooked man in an old crooked house he says I don't open up on all saints day
An old man in an old house refuses to open on a sacred day

Ya never know what devil might be waiting there to steal your TV.
You never know what kind of thief might come and steal your television set

As he sits there watching a story about another robbery, he turns on a light to stave off thieves
The singer watches a story about a robbery and becomes nervous about the possibility of his own robbery

The world is sick I think it's dying, I watch it go through these dusty blinds
The world is diseased and the artist watches it from behind dirty blinds

Alive in these houses locked inside there's blood on the door and candlelight
People are trapped in their homes with candlelight and blood on their doors

Night close your eyes and wish it bye call up the police to sing their lullabies
At night, close your eyes and send a prayer, and call the police for safety

Late our hero John Wayne put guns in our living rooms gates round our names give us a face to join up and hate Keep tiny town pure and sane behind these bolts there's a brewing revolt and it rusts in every one of us
John Wayne made us idolize violence, so we built fences and formed a united hate that brews deep in us

So put a yellow ribbon on your exterminator and head westward across the tracks
Place a yellow ribbon on your insect killer and leave town

I got a dream where we all say see you later and never say we'll come back
I have a dream where we leave and never return

I'm looking out the window down on citizens' drive where all the elders are terrified, will that be you and I?
I'm watching elders on citizens' drive who are afraid and questioning if we will be the same

Contributed by Madison D. Suggest a correction in the comments below.

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