Over the years, I’ve managed to cobble together a conception of what I believe to be, in the Platonic sense, the ideal dive bar. No mere shadow on the wall of a cave, mind you, this image has emerged over time as a rock-solid mental construct, complete with cracked leather booths, a slightly surly staff, and very cheap shots. The centerpiece of the whole grand vision is a jukebox equipped to confound and repel the casual drinker. Every one of a Platonic form’s elements are, of course, equally essential, but the records of the Star Room Boys merit special mention, for they exist so securely at the heart of the ideal dive-bar jukebox as to constitute an utterly indispensable part of its anatomy.
The Star Room Boys formed in Athens, Georgia, in 1995 and went on to produce two LPs under the direction of singer and songwriter Dave Marr before calling it quits in 2002. Lyrically, both records trade in some of country music’s most familiar themes - love, liquor and loss - but they do so without stridency or excessive sentimentality, and with a good deal of moral ambiguity. No doubt this helps to account for the “alt-country” label that critics have applied to the group, but make no mistake, the Star Room Boys are a straight country band. In fact, Marr’s facility with honky-tonk idioms amounts to nothing less than a pitch-perfect mastery of the genre.
While the band’s debut, Why Do Lonely Men and Women Want to Break Each Other’s Hearts,may well be their definitive statement, Marr’s talents as a singer and songwriter are manifest throughout This World Just Won’t Leave You Alone. The opening line of the record, “White lies, blue tears, red eyes, black fears,” crests and crashes on a wave of up-tempo guitars. Many of the remaining tracks are more subdued but no less engaging. Boozy ballads like “Whiskey and You” and “When I’m All the Way Down” showcase Marr’s wonderful voice, which, though slightly less prone to twangy affectation, has aptly been compared to Dwight Yoakam’s. Arguably the highpoint of the entire Star Room Boys catalog, “Cocaine Parties” is a minor masterpiece, in which Marr builds to the first chorus with remarkable restraint and delivers it with climactic conviction. Surely the author of tracks like this and “I’ll Play Angel,” another standout, can be forgiven for the album’s sole misstep, a little rockabilly-tinged regret called “Daydreamer” reminiscent of early Old 97's.
Whether or not they ever emerge from their present obscurity, the Star Room Boy’s legacy should be one of excellence in a much maligned and misunderstood genre. At the very least, they provide the best soundtrack since Hank Williams for a good lonely drunk. While not necessarily a band for amateur alcoholics, anyone with even the slightest tolerance for country music should take the time to sample and savor these songs.
