The Starline Rhythm Boys
Live At Charlie-O’s World Famous
This ecstatic fire-cracker is about all you’d need to convert that snivelling, snide creature with ears ever-cloistered to the gorgeously glorious straits of country music, even the pious alt.country ‘expert’ who a few short years ago woulda been bereft at Shed Seven’s demise, crying it’s all tears in your beers clichés and my dawg done died drivel. Well, fuck that, I mean, this is honky-tonk, sluice-gates unleashing the strains of desperadoes serenades, outlaw country from Bakersfield to the bluegrass mountains, Tennessee twang, heaven-hailing harmonies outlining devilry and despair. Amidst a whole bottomless-barrel of fun and fret-stained strife Al Lemery and Danny Coane lead the evening through a tasting session where you savour, swallow and swig various shades and stripes of western wear and tear and mixtures thereof, letting a plough roll through bakers dozens of bar-raising jags that never waver in their fertility and unflagging exuberance. Convalescent heartache balladeeros, wry rockabilly, drinkin’ tinkerin’ with the thinkerin’ as the train sidles past as you drink up, scuffed-cuff slouchers and skirt-spinning swingers all sizzle in this slew of covers - some of which you’ll be acquainted with on yer travels (I’m A Lonesome Fugitive, You’re Still On My Mind, Chuck’s You Can’t Catch Me, Johnny Paycheck’s Heartbreak, Tennessee, Faron Young’s Wine Me Up and Waylon Jenning’s Lonesome, On’ry And Mean) - and originals like She Don’t Live Here No More, Drunk Tank and hat-tip to the venue Charlie-O’s, all easily as well-pressed a set o’ shirts as their more fabled bar-chasing compadres while matching em drink for drink. This is party-lined honky-tonk not to close up but to stride on into, one HOT hot band with timbers to kindle the wettest Saturday night. Joyous and utterly stunning, makes you wanna hop a flight, spin, swear and pray and bear such witness folks'll be scratching their heads. Now, ain't that testifyin'.