The first disc, Brawlers, is as beastly and rambunctious as it sounds. These are the loud nightowls, staggering through the neon pre-dawn and causing a ruckus.
Bawlers are the lonesome ones. The ballads told through cigar smoke and a glass of whisky at a dive bar on the edge of town. I find it's better to come to this place for a few songs, but I don't stay for the whole night.
And Bastards is for the hardcore Waitsians. This is the experimental pocket full of literary musical interpretations from Bukowski, Brecht, and Weill. It's pure carnival and loads of fun.