In The Kitchen

by The Staggers & Jaggs

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Chainsaw Bob
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Chainsaw Bob I literally discovered The Staggers and Jaggs on the side of the road. They were playing on a corner at an event on Commercial Drive, and they were amazing. They are every bit as amazing on this album as they are on the side of the road.
If you enjoy vaguely creepy Tom Waits-esque New Orleans-style Jazzy stuff, you should immediately stop what you're doing and buy this album. I'll stop talking and let you get to it. Favorite track: What Do The Crows Know?.
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released January 30, 2016

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The Staggers & Jaggs Vancouver, British Columbia

Creeping out of the woodwork is the hauntingly nostalgic sound of The Staggers & Jaggs. This East Van ensemble is a curious concoction of characters, taking influence from prohibition era parties, blues, jazz and punk rock. Stories of love, loss and madness are told through playful melodies and hypnotic rhythms. ... more

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Track Name: Scatscratch
By the end of his days he'd buried it away
by the old dead tree
Stuck under the haze
Lost in the maze, with all of the other empty bellies
Wistfully forgot laughter
Tongues furiously lashing
Crawling to the furthest destination
Sprawling the cosmos, through the holes of time
Back to nothing and nowhere
Take me back to nothing and nowhere

I know... I know
it's long, long gone
But the cold melody, like a ghost, lingers on
I can't get it out of my head

Skip like a frog, crawl like a fish
Sulking violently, his brain starts to twitch
Then, moaning, he creeps to the corner
Where he sits in a pool of his own sweat and vomit

A pair of high heels and an empty pack of smokes
A murmur in the corner from a lonely radio
Shrugging, she's pauses, then draws another line
From her vial of synthetic sunshine

And I know... I know
It's long, long gone
But the cold melody, like a ghost, lingers on
I can't get it out of my head
Track Name: Bag of Bones
Soaked to the bone
Froze to the tips
Out in the cold
Diggin' a ditch
Taken for a ride, a one way trip
Fell in love with the rhythm and curve of her hips

Now I'm just a bag of bones
Good for nothing
Just a bag of bones
I'm useless

Ain't got no cash, can't buy no green
My friends, they ask where the hell I've been
Well I've been wasted all day, just to pass the time
That don't get me nowhere, but it sure feels fine

I'm just a bag of bones, good for nothing
Just a bag of bones, I'm useless

Took that cocain, put it up my nose
Drank down that bottle and took of all my clothes
Then i ran through the streets singin' every song I know
Now I'm just a no good for nothin' useless bag of bones

Just a bag of bones, good for nothing
Just a bag of bones
I'm useless
Track Name: Lost Letters
In the eve of winter
Lay me down to sleep
My faded heart is tender
Let the wound bleed
The letter read "old friend,
this war cannot be won"
The devil took the woman
I've lost my only son
Track Name: Sweet Poison
Come little one, look into my eyes
I'll show you an endless white light
A journey of a thousand lives
See the sound of nostalgic relief
Feel it scream as the wise man misreads

In the eve of winter, lay me down to sleep
My faded heart is tender
Let the wound bleed

Sweet poison, sweet relief
Slow suicide
Let the wound bleed
Track Name: What Do The Crows Know?
They say he lines his hat and shoes with copper
And goes out late at night
Passed the street lights and city signs
Deep, deep, deep into the countryside
No relatives, no wife, son, or daughter
No one to notice he's gone
He could be just a lonely man, going anywhere but home
But they say he's got a story to tell
His own folklore fairytale
And it grows from tongue to tongue through town
Because he doesn't tell it himself

His is not a tale of illusion
Not about betrayal or deceit
Just a simple story of confusion
Between the living, and so called "deceased"

As it goes he never really was an ordinary child
He didn't go to church or to school
Raised by wise grandmothers eyes
They may call him crazy, but not a fool
Not a single soul in town could tell you his age
But everyone knows his name
they all watch the murders fly and circle his house up on the hillside

What do the crows know?
If there's a mind, there's a universe behind that little black bead of an eye

Just one more, again and again
There's no need to nock at the house of sin
The doors never locked, I just let myself in
And as the early morning frost creeps in through the walls
Love has withered to a thin shade of lust
Satisfaction through addiction into disgust

Alone

Taking it across the line, it's the downfall of all of mankind
And it echoes through my bones
Giving in to the twisted design
I strike the match, spark the flame, burn down my own home
I am the hand that held the knife
I am the knife
Slit my own throat