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Imagine North Dixie Highway as the Yellow Brick Road. You're Dorothy, and you're looking to get to where people lived and died by their music. Where each note bled straight from the soul. Where blues travelers still roamed (and Southern rockers still kicked ass). Well, Dorothy, I give you Oz. The Back Room Blues Bar is a little joint off the side of old Dixie - sneeze and you might miss the dookie orange foursquare. Yeah, it's that small. And that removed from practically any nightlife. This is the Back Room's identity. After several years bouncing around various locations in Delray Beach, the Back Room ended up here. Away from whiny neighbors (who can slap you with noise complaints) and close to the railroad tracks. There are no delusions of high class. No wannabe rock stars. Just plain old guitar-on-your-back, harmonica-in-your-hand, beer-in-your-gut types. And they're free to make as much noise as they please. Over the years, the noisemakers have come by many names, but few could have wailed like Molly Hatchett, Little Milton, and Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown. Want to join in the ruckus? Stop by Wednesday through Saturday from 6:30 p.m. to 2 a.m. But don't ask for a sex-on-the-beach - or piña coladas - you might get laughed at. Only brewskies and wine. And don't come looking for a happy hour. Or a ladies night, Dorothy. What you will find is old Western fixings and furniture (kinda creepy, actually, like sepia-toned family portraits of people you know are dead) and a patio affixed to a majestic Southern live oak. Fitting: an icon spreading its roots, refusing to move aside.