Bacchanal 'N' Philadelphia

by Mischief Brew

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $10 USD  or more




The earliest studio recordings, long out of print, get a new coat of paint! This is the "Philadelphia" side of the split LP with Robert Blake (tracks 1-6) and the "Bakenal" EP (tracks 5-11) combined once and for all. The songs have been remastered from the original 2002 analog tapes and sound better than ever. A classic batch of songs from the folk punk dumpstered-salad days, brought to you by Fistolo Records (CD/digital) and Square Of Opposition Records (vinyl).


released February 2, 2016



all rights reserved


Mischief Brew Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Emerging from the undead ashes of PA punk troupe The Orphans, Mischief Brew started with a scratchy demo tape in 2000 and has since spread the good word of anarchy, hilarity, and rebellion across state lines and even the Atlantic Ocean a few times. We've managed to exist for over 13 years in one form or another by kissing nobody's ass and doing everything ourselves, for the most part. No rules! ... more

contact / help

Contact Mischief Brew

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Track Name: Every Town Will Celebrate
Well, big bad man come into town
Gave sweets to the children
Pushed their daddies around
Made the streets so bright in the zones of blight
No more fear in the hearts of whites
He built a hall, put on a show
From high above, watched his boulders roll
Then he bought Main Street and the old Town Hall
He named his price, his face on every wall

Now the factories have all shut down
No more cloth stitched in this town
So the only job for boy and I
In the prison making tiles shine
Someday that man will come here too
With that magic hat, spit and glue
He’ll wash the stone, paint the brick
Rename the streets
And make the clocks all tick on time
He’ll make us run on time

And every town will celebrate someday
Waving sweatshop flags and grande lattes
Wearing culture on their backs
Wearing spirit on their hats
One by one they’ll join the parade and celebrate
Yeah, every town will celebrate someday

Now corners near and corners far
Are somehow the same coffee bar
And community is felt again
Thanks to folks I’ve never met
They slayed the artists, sold their arts
Gave the toddlers shopping carts
Raised the prices, raised the rent
Some days I wish that I could go back again
No, I can’t go back again

Just like they do in Florida
Down in Celebration, Florida
And when every road is Main Street, U.S.A
We’ll be safely kept at bay from any disruption or display
Of truth, adventure, love and rage
Track Name: Olde Tyme Mem'ry
When father bought the farm, we sold the farm
Mistook his blood for rustic charm
Sold his ghost as an antique, to the city
And kids today can’t hold a spade
Rest in peace, ye olde weary trades
In this world, there is no place, such a pity
Well, the barman shakes his head and fills my glass
Says we’re living in the past
“Why preserve a dying craft? End its misery.”
We sigh and say, “Another modern man
One of property not land.”
So I’ll hold out this battered hand
Will you listen?

Come sit down, we’re lamenting
About yesterday’s sad ending
About the water in me’ whiskey
The brass passed off as gold
Another round, we’re descending
Into olde time mem’ry
Of a day when wood was wooden
Silver silver, gold was gold
Sweet home was home

So you say you got a wood stove in your second home
Runs on gas but looks like oak
Hell, it even gives off smoke and glowing embers
There’s a quilt hung on the wall, reads “Home Sweet Home.”
Below, some wise words from Thoreau
And they call me a throwback when I cry, “Remember?”

Son, these tools are artifacts
Endangered species left its tracks
So lock me up behind plastic glass in the city
There’s no going back for me
This antique’s rustic eulogy
Shall be sold as folk artistry, such a pity
But I’ll never understand
Why they all long to use those hands
To build a stead that will always stand in “olde tyme” country
But settle for white rooms and hollow doors
Paper ceilings, padded floors
Luxury boxes where you’re stored in what was country
Track Name: Boycott Me!
Listen to the fife and snare marching through the square
Stencil flags of insurrection dancing through the air
Read the rants of a Thomas Paine of modern day
I have felt a spirit that has not yet gone away

Hey! Boycott me and boycott this
And mute your childrens’ mouths
When they sing along to this very song
Spread word all around
Hey, F.O.P., boycott me, for I am standing up!
I’d rather taste a rebel’s glory
Than drink blood from your cup

Read the rants of those in jail and those who rode the rails
Then lay down on the roads we paved
Eat the crumbs we used for trails
And discredit all the rogues
Liberty’s crack within the bells
The demons in your heavens and the angels in your hells

The scorned few of today are the heroes of tomorrow
They’ll be a holiday, times of regret and sorrow
And when they’re pressed on stamps
We’ll hope they’re not forgotten
So let’s go down in history blacklisted and boycotten
Track Name: Dirty Pennies
In a small town where all knew all, wandered a peasant lady nobody knew. But her only friend was a young boy, brought her hot tea and leftover stew. In those burning wintry Decembers, he’d pick dirty pennies up off the cold street. And while his mother was out Christmas shopping, he’d say, “Come on in, warm your feet. As long as you share with me stories.” So she spoke, “I’m a product of war. My mother never knew who she could be as my father lay drunk on the floor.” And she spoke of the cart that she wheeled. Had keys with no locks and guitars with no strings, and a puzzle that could never be finished. “This is my home, these broken things.” Ah, but the boy went on to be taught in the schools to not talk to strangers and “don’t feed the fools.” Grew older and further and of her, forgot, as she was forced to move from lot to lot to lot. She said, “I guess it was much in his nature to become an enforcer of law. My old friend’s got a gun to protect me from the rock-tossing drunks from the bars. Always seemed like the sort to help others, so I’ll find him while he’s on the beat and say, ‘Remember me, I’m the old lady. You’d give me pennies you’d find on the street.’” But when she found him, she saw not the young boy who dug for the roots of her junk. She came face to face with a stern vacant soldier, grinning and spinning a club. He said, “Don’t you know that you can’t be here? You’ll hurt business and scare away the kids. Go wander around in some other town. Get out, or I’m takin’ you in!” “But officer, I fondly remember you. Young boy who would give me the leftover stew. Would take me inside to the warm fire coals. And those hundreds of pennies bought me all these clothes. It’s against the law to peddle, it’s against the law to eat. It’s against the law to have nothing more than the shoes, full of holes, on your feet. And now they put bars across the park benches, so I guess it’s illegal to sleep. They buried something inside of you, officer, into your cold heart dig deep. And you’ll see that it’s me. And here I’ll be, nothing new to me. I’ll be heartbroken and cold, frozen and alone. My coffin was a dumpster and they didn’t even know.” But while out on the beat, he looked down to his feet, and he saw a dirty penny heads up on the street. And it made him think of an old tall tale of a woman who pushed ‘round a cart, and the boy who fed her and helped her. Knew he should have deep in his heart. Oh, where did he hear that old tall tale? But hey, what a story to spread. So he told it to his own growing boy once in a while before bed.
Track Name: Liberty Unmasked
Come see pioneers starving on trout. Meet the drunkards of spirit, of soil, of stout. But old silent fires shall someday bathe all. A cider ferments in us all. Final call! Hear the prophets whose days have gone dim. And for all royal silver, she still won’t wed him. Hear the bastards, yes among us they go, all flaunting freedoms so scarcely known. How I see, merrily, the unmasking of liberty, as she bows to misery. Oh, her open hands, the joy and dance. And this pattern across a great quilt for ages to span. You’re a traveller packing for years, armor of rage in a shower of tears. And you never could see that you were wild and loose, ‘til a baby blue soldier forbid you to choose. Now you cry, “Off with these systems and off with these laws! Bring on the seasons, tradition, and song. The patterns and cycles. We, hitchers of stars, shall reel in adventure to shatter these bores, to march from these wars.
Track Name: Fare Well, Good Fellows
Fare well, good fellows, your ways are not for me. Rest upon your laurels, glad you found your peace, but farewell, good fellows, your ways are not for me. Rapping at the chapel door, sweeping up an enemy’s floor. Do not touch or make a sound, keep your eyes upon the ground. I’ve read your countless volumes, shunned your many sins. But I cannot find salvation in the rattlin’ of your tins. I wish good to your children and their own children too, but your armor will not fit me, although fine, it’s suiting you, so… A flag is waved, a bomb is thrown. So many names and dates to know. Books upon the books are stacked to get something so simple back. We’re talkin’ revolution, but spirals, not the spins where you fall down dizzy and forget where to begin. I wish good to your children and their own children too, but your armor will not fit me, although fine, it’s suiting you. Turn your blessings into weapons and hold them before your chest. To you and all your comrades, I only wish the best. We may not meet again, for we are treading separate trails. But I’ll cast off and think of you on seas or roads or rails. From chapels to the armies, magician to the knave, you either blaze your own trail or you’re digging your own grave. I wish good to your children, and their own children too, but your armor will not fit me, although fine, it’s suiting you. Fare well, good fellows…
Track Name: Devil Of A Time
Didn’t we have a devil of a time?
Stranger stumble into town, talkin’ turnin’ tables ‘round
Didn’t we have a devil of a time?

We shot and slammed the glasses upside down
I was the last one to take a mask
But the first one to strike a match
Shot and slammed the glasses upside down

Didn’t I paint a face on the sleeping guard?
Convention sleeps when the sun goes down
So copper, try and catch me now
Didn’t I paint a face on the sleeping guard?

Well, the silent sirens wait in the alleyways
‘Til the stone of order’s cracked in two
Wake and spin the red and blue
Silent sirens wait in the alleyways

For the moon is under water of the carnival canals
Gotta rattle fragile borders
For what’s a city with no underground?

To wander through a Venetian maze
When I never marched the streets of New Orleans
But the devil’s brew I drank tonight
Tomorrow have me exorcised
And tighten up my necktie once again

Crown me the Merry Lord of Misrule
With my cracked mask, lei, hangover, and a ragged suit
Well at curbside, I crept from sleep
Some stranger left behind his reeds
Crown me the Merry Lord of Misrule

Didn’t we have a devil of a time?
They say, “Who’s this drunkard stumbling down
In rags, with palm ash on his brow
Singin’, ‘Didn’t we have a devil of a time?’”
Track Name: Rambler's Ghost
She’s off to anywhere
Every town grows stale soon enough
So it’s fields to the east and the hills to the west
Under crescent moons, in grassy beds
She lays her head to rest
She’s been in a hundred movies and in six billion dreams
Taking out her wood and wire, singing romance ‘round the fire
Giving tastes of truth to those of us employed as liars.

And we sing, “ain’t that the life? She’s got it made
Her head in the sand, her guitar in the shade
Rambling beauty, she sang to me
Was she in my mind, or on the TV?
Yeah she’s on my mind, come from the TV

Noble Hobo, corporate cut-throat got the wisdom of the tramp. Brother, can’t spare no crumbs
Don’t you trip over the bums
As you step out of the cab on the way to see a Gypsy band
Railroad boxcar blasts and burns on down the line
And her feet are a’swingin’, and the songs she’s a’singin’
Tell of greener fields and freer times.

Rambling beauty, let me be your mate for a while
Be a shoulder for your head, carry a bag and roll a bed
Another day in this place, and I swear I’ll end up dead
And how I’m sorry that my ancestors threw you in jail
But now I can see your ramblings were poetry
Will you sell me the rights if I put up the bail?
Track Name: The Drunk Of Three Nights
All that’s between us and the sky
Fogged glass and dusty blinds
So I scrawled your name then mine
Just to see them side by side
Your boss is pullin’ out his hair
If he only knew why you’re not there
Bells and hammers break the waking day
As sobriety carries its chains

And you look into my eyes
And say you’re through with that disguise
As it’s strewn beside your bed
You vow to never pull it on again

I thought I’d be a hermit forever
Can it still be so as long as we are together?

You’re like fire to pine
All the worlds behind those eyes
As clocks quake and crumble into piles
Think we’re the only ones left alive
All rules seem strange and false
Each hour gone, out there seems more wrong
I’m afraid we’ve been inside for days
And I fear sobriety awaits

As I look into your eyes, I wonder when we last dined
All engagements we never made
Just threw them away with one embrace
All these rules that somehow passed
Are but cracks in the window glass
A kiss set off the drunk of three nights
So savor these firework shards while they fly

I thought I’d be a hermit forever, can it still be so?
For now, we are together.
Track Name: Roll Me Through The Gates Of Hell
I am a leader but you will not follow me
I ain't no preacher, for I'm full of blasphemy
See you in hell, boys

Like an angel who'd been dancing with some devils
I'm a bad girl with hope for a better day
My laughter is spiced with mischief
I won't toss the salt, kiss it up, or pray
When you offer pink or blue, I'll take the blackest
When you offer only two, I'll offer three
When you point me in a direction, I'll run backwards
And at the border of utopia, I'll toast to anarchy

Cause fire and rock, I'm coming home to you
As I'm pickin' the bones out of my dinner stew
Open up the gates of hell and roll me through
Fire and rock, I'm coming home to you

So you're sayin' Satan's army's rising up soon
Well if it is, I'm the Secretary of No-State
No state!
Got wrenches, rocks, and bottles in my tool pouch
My desire is society's jailbait
Cause there's tons of guys a'mopin' 'bout the workday
Dimes by the dozens
Their song weighs a thousand pounds
But there's nothing like a lady with a buzzsaw
I just might build your house
But I just might tear it down

Yes barkeep, I will surely have another
To the witches! To the goblins and the trolls!
I'll be coming to recruit your rebel children
There ain't no use in lockin' doors
There's one of me in every home
With mud on my boots
And blood on my jeans
I'll take those pretty dresses
Tear 'em at the seams
Roll me through the gates of hell, ah please
And I'll be back in your daughter's dreams
Track Name: Anti-Lullaby
We are bouncing and dancing as you sing your lullaby
Shouting “move” when you say “stay.”
The tune of your flute is a rifle you shoot
That lays us all down to be prey
They love you, we hate you
We made you to break you today
Breaking away

We are painting the walls, making jokes out of laws
Hiding sleeping pills under our tongues
Shut the light, close the door, we spit them to the floor
Then we’re hummin’ and a’strummin’ and a’bangin’ on drums
What did you know when you said we are wasting away?
How could you say?

How could you say we just waste away, waste away?
Big table not big enough
How could you say we just waste away, waste away?
Hummin’ and a’strummin’ and a’bangin’ on drums

We will not be lulled into slumber by you
We will not be lulled into sleep
For we’ve had a taste of this wondrous place
And its treasures, we intend to keep

So now when they say we just waste away, waste away
You can say hey, it’s not so
Why is it then that we’re growing
And growing and growing and growing
And showing them all what we know?