One of the classic fault lines of any punk community is the debate between the politics of confrontation and subversion. Few bands ever stuck to the politics of confrontation as steadfastly as British hardcore group Crass. Relentlessly DIY, Crass lived the squatting, egalitarian, anarchistic lifestyle they sang about.

In my youth, I listened to their songs, drowning in lyrics screamed over buzzing guitars that railed against the system. Then I got older, got married and found a job within the self-same system that Crass protested in songs like “Systematic Death.” I wore suits and drove a nice car. When my daughter was born, I tacitly agreed that there was some music we wouldn’t play when she was around (specifically Crass and Atari Teenage Riot).

So I would like to thank Jeffrey Lewis for acoustically rearranging and updating 12 Crass songs, putting them more in line with the politics of subversion by making them more pop-friendly. Many of the now-folkier tunes are a fitting complement to other child-centred fare (granted, there’s no pan flute, and Lewis has preserved most of the swearing, so Raffi has nothing to fear). I find myself thinking about packing 12 Crass Songs in my daughter’s backpack for her preschool music circle, with dreams of the little critters singing blithely along to “Do They Owe Us a Living?” Of course they fucking do, darlings.