...Creeping up from the depths of Georgia, crawling across the desert from LaLa-Land, and down through the rust belt...via the swamps of Louisiana, the skyscrapers of Manhattan and various points of heaven and hell in between, these guys eventually collide, congeal and fester in a lean-to shack on the outer edges of Music-Cityville USA. With some amplifiers and an extension cord they begin the process, working it up through the gut to the mind and out the mouth, fingers and feet to the ears of a frantic, numbed but still searching public... 'Hey man, what kind of music do you guys play?' Well, uh, if you take some Stones and mix in a little Elvis C....; no, imagine that Albert Collins' illegitimate son had run away from home and joined Little Feat and...Some fans call it 'thinking man's rock&roll'...or was that drinking man's rock&roll? There's only one way to know for sure. They've spoken the word on stages throughout the south, and on their first album, Vagrant Saints have spelled it out in a rhythmic sanskrit, a wormsview sonic photograph, a primal holler from the blue collar...experience the revelation...Vagrant Saints.