The Incomparable Mr. Flannery

It\'s pretty wild the way you can go back over lyrics and realize something totally new or unexpected. Anyway I have deeper thoughts on this one that I\'ll put in my next comment, but it turns out the Detroiter is a real bar in Detroit where I am assuming... deep inhale\n\n (as likely incorrectly as not since I\'ve never been anywhere near it and base my whole assumption on the pessimistic view widely promulgated in the US that the entire city is a rusting, bombed out wasteland serving primarily as an incubator of promising short-lived rap artists, vicious murderers, peddlers of any smut any corner anytime, as well as a stocked pond of generationally screwed penniless souls ripe for blasting with payday loan fees and interest, which will never reattain it\'s status as a heavenly monument to the virtues of unrestrained capitalism graciously bestowed on it by teetotaling jerkoff Henry Ford, who literally rifled through his workers\' cabinets neurotically searching for evidence of alcohol consumption after showing up unannounced at their private residences whenever he pleased and wherever, which was typically in the outlying areas beyond the city limits where he could basically build early versions of the post-WWII Allentown that had Billy Joel perched with his big toe in the trigger guard of a vertically oriented shotgun until he found a cathartic outlet in bitching about it to millions over some, frankly, bopping background piano jingle... where was I? Ah ha! Yes, where Ford could probably build chicken mesh boxes splattered with oatmeal and toilet paper shreds set foundationless on a quivering brown slurry of diarrhea-like consistency and pass the building code with flying colors, then also pay no taxes to whatever government entity claims authority and whose members he probably just brazenly handed tin pails filled with bribes at public meetings, then hold and call in all the mortgages he wants, exposing this \'Metropolis\'-like historical daydream for a load of watery dribbling crap doomed from step one by its main creator in a spectacular example of \'The Camelot Paradox\') brief exhale massive inhale\n\n... one would go to purchase drugs or engage in activities similar to those in which the protagonist of this hopeless and desperate tale finds himself participating. \n\nAlas, I feel the mustache reference is just to be understood as a typical hastily grown disguise/style element because there is no mustache bar, and the two \'Mustache\' bands I\'ve discovered are from a later era; additionally one is primarily swedish... (aside from their actual English band name, I suppose...) while the other are THESE tool bags, who I am confident made the following announcement on their website to widespread fanfare and almost overwhelming press coverage:\n\nTHE WORLD\'S MOST POWERFUL\n90\'s COUNTRY PARTY BAND\n \nMustache The Band is the 90’s Country Party Band that’ll grow on you. Mustache delivers a powerful performance of all of the favorite country hits from the 1990’s. With well over 125 songs under their buckles, you are guaranteed to have a non-stop party on your hands. \n\n \n\nMustache The Band will take you on a journey into the 90’s... back when sleeveless tanks, high tops, cowboy boots, two paneled button downs, and mustaches ruled country music. In order to set the tone at every show, fans are provided with their very own mustaches to enjoy.\n\n \n\nIf the crowd is ready to get down on the farm, Mustache The Band will take them there.