Bread and Roses is not your father’s punk band. Playing old-time instruments that include acoustic guitars, drums, banjo, upright bass, mandolin, fiddle and, on occasion, a pennywhistle, it seems more like your grandfather’s punk band.

The seven members crowding the little stage of the Abbey Lounge on Sunday night were even ill at ease with amplification, apparently proving the local band came from a bygone era. In fact, it is named for a 1912 strike of textile workers in Lawrence, Massachusetts, who demanded “bread and roses too.”

The same working-class spirit came through in the first song of the night, the rabble-rousing “Dump the Bosses off Your Back.” The band’s sense of history was also on display in “Boxing Day, 1914,” about a Christmas truce during World War I, and a fast, shouted version of “Grass,” a poem for fallen soldiers by Carl Sandburg that always seemed much quieter on the page.

Though the songs’ subject matter and country/bluegrass leanings hearkened to the past, their stomp-along beats ensured the audience stayed in the moment. Unpolished but passionate vocals that were pure punk blended with the consummate musicianship more often associated with folk, demonstrating that fans of DIY music could have both bread and roses in one performance.

In “Last Words,” bassist Morgan Coe sang that he wanted 13 words carved in his headstone: “He lived as he was born as he died — screaming out for more!” And this was exactly what the fans were doing when the set ended.