Richard Lamar’s ‘Pour Me More’: A Spiraling Toast to Fun, Memorable Yet Blurry Nights Of Drinking
- Editorial Board
- Jul 11
- 3 min read
An anthem for nights you’ll never remember but live within the glimpse of your very well essence.
Richard Lamar’s latest single, Pour Me More, pulls no punches. It’s a roast drinking ballad song that sounds like it was scribbled on a bar napkin at last call and recorded while possibly taking a “hair of the dog” after a night of non very liver-friendly choices…it’s honest, reckless, and all too relatable for anyone who’s ever chased oblivion at the bottom of a bottle.
The first verse wastes no time setting the scene: “Drinking myself to the point I don’t know my name…” It’s not clever wordplay or subtle metaphor—Lamar’s writing is brashly literal, which is exactly what makes it hit as anyone, at some point had the urge to feel and do. The simple lines mirror the simplicity of the ritual: shot, swallow, forget.
The pre-chorus is a roll call of delicious yet dangerous inhebriating magic potions… whiskey, beer, vodka, Everclear, delivered like a shopping list for a night of fun and disaster. Beautiful guitars instrumentations follow the arrangement, this is a good one for guitar affecionados.
Lamar makes it clear he’s in on the joke: “I make it look easy, it’s all in good fun / But soon I’ll be shit faced, and I’ll come undone.” The sing-song delivery masks the creeping dread under the party chant, a duality that gives the track its edge.
Then comes the chorus, a raucous, slurred roar: “From the alcohol, / It’s got me drunk. / I’m feeling good, / I’m getting fucked.” The simplicity works because it is as real as drinking a raw shot vodka on an empty stomach, you know that feeling, don’t you?
It’s the type of line you’d bellow with strangers over sticky floors and spilled drinks, only to forget by morning. It’s an anthem of reckless fun, hollow bravado that lands somewhere between feeling a tad sad and as celebratory as ever.
Verse two and the second pre-chorus push the spiral further: more booze, more haze, more lines that feel like they were lifted straight from a bender. There’s no redemption arc here—no moment of regret or sober reflection. Instead, Lamar doubles down with the bridge: “Who said life is tough or hard? / All you need’s a stocked-up bar.” It’s the gospel of the self-medication.
Production-wise, Pour Me More keeps it raw yet pristine and clear. It’s built for dive bars and basements: driving guitars, pounding drums, vocals that sound yet shouted but comforting as a stranger pouring you a drink at your favorite bar. You can almost smell the stale beer and taste the burn of liquor between choruses.
By the outro, Lamar wraps it up with a final, blurry confession: “The night’s a blur; my liver is done.” There’s no lesson learned, just a resigned grin and another “Pour me more.” It’s a song for the nights when you don’t want to think about tomorrow as very likely in life, we are not always granted of one.
Some will brush this off as another party song. But there’s something deeper under the hooks and sloppy bravado, a candid glimpse at how easy it is to drown out life’s mess with one more shot. Lamar doesn’t glorify it; he just calls it like it is.
So here’s one shot from Goathead to Pour Me More, an anthem for the lost nights, the loud bars, and the memories that taste like regret by morning. It’s as real as a shot of rum, but that’s exactly the point.
Don’t forget to follow Richard Lamar and listen to him on all streaming platforms.
