Mischief Brew/Erik Petersen
Smash the Windows
Fistolo Records

This is the first, real, honest-to-God full-length album from Mischief Brew. After the spate of tantalizing e.p.’s that this guy had been putting out, Smash the Windows came as a veritable relief. I was really interested to see what Erik would do given the scope of an l.p.; I was surprised, not surprised, and delighted with the result.

For those of you unfamiliar with Mischief Brew’s oeuvre: this is a one-man anarcho-folk-punk band based out of Philadelphia. The music is highly political, but, with its glittering wordsmithery and boundless energy, transcends the limits of simple political anthems. These qualities, always the trademarks of Erik’s music, have carried over into the new album. What’s changed is the instrumentation. Mischief Brew’s earlier recordings tended towards straight-up acoustic and voice; a more recent release, 2003’s Bakenal e.p., hinted at an expanding musical palette with the addition of some junk percussion and sophisticated guitar arrangements. Smash the Windows shows Erik’s songwriting at its free rollicking fullest, with complete band accompaniment and sonic innovation. The band doesn’t feel entirely settled into its new sound yet, and I sure hope this isn’t the end of Mischief Brew acoustic, but overall the expanded setup is a lot of fun. The heavily-instrumental tracks, especially “The Gypsy, the Punk, and the Fool”, capture the whimsical, carnival element that has always been submerged in Mischief Brew’s music; these songs really showcase Erik’s musicianship in a way that simple three-chord folk ballads never did. He has an especially keen ear for percussion; he knows how to apply beats so that they accentuate both the micro- and macro-rhythms of a song, always complementing the melody without ever overwhelming it.

To be sure, this record still has its fair share of simple folk songs; there is a re-recording of “The Lowly Carpenter”, and the bittersweet “Departure Arrival”, which fittingly closes the album. There are some revamped versions of old favorites: a souped-up “Roll Me Through the Gates of Hell”, and a more carnivalesque “Liquor Never Brewed”. The majority of the album, though, is made up of this new sound, and it’s really interesting to see how the tone and content differs from the older stuff. Whereas the earlier songs embrace the nomadic life with open arms, the new songs pose a lot of questions about what it means to grow older within the context of punk culture. What happens when people start cutting off their dreads, opening bank accounts, getting married? There is some sense of loss in these songs, but perhaps a greater sense of what has been gained: “Sure, there’s power in unions of ramblers that got nothing to own,” Erik sings in “Nomad’s Revolt”, “But there’s more in one fist-swinging mother, swearing: ‘My children shall never be sold.’”

The lyrics, as always, are in top form here. I’m always impressed by the way Erik can turn a phrase, but (nerd-snob that I am) I’m even more impressed by the number of literary/historic/philosophical allusions that he seamlessly weaves into his songs. “The Reinvention of the Printing Press” references the industrial revolution, Catholic doctrine, Rabelais, and the advent of printing, all in one song… and there’s probably even more stuff in there that I’m missing. It all tends to tie in, of course, with Mischief Brew’s tendency toward a medieval/Venetian/Irish aesthetic; these songs, with their words and with their tunes, celebrate a lot of old traditions.

Erik’s respect for tradition, his ability to preserve old forms while simultaneously updating and reviving them, may in part explain why his own songs are so durable. Fellow folk singer Robert Blake once commented on how Mischief Brew songs, entirely apart from their performances and recordings, have the ability to take on a life of their own: “Underneath the bodies moving and the hands-in-the-air singing along,” he writes, “I heard songs that will be sung for a long time.” Here’s to you, then, Mischief Brew: may your songs never get stuck out of my head.