They are never mentioned in the same breath as “Southern Rock” contemporaries like the Allman Brothers Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Marshall Tucker Band, or Molly Hatchet. They did not have an extroverted lead singer, and many casual fans would be hard pressed to recall any of their names. They scored several softer, more pop-leaning hits than those hell-raising entities mentioned above. And they definitely did not “jam” and only occasionally “boogied.”

But pound-for-pound, in terms of musical craftsmanship and understated song skill, The Atlanta Rhythm Section just might have been the Best Band from the South. And that’s according to no less a Southern Rock light than Lynyrd Skynyrd’s front man, Ronnie Van Zant.

The story of the group—along with what came before and after for its members—it told expertly and (mostly) fully in The Atlanta Rhythm Section: The Authorized Biography (256 pp., $29.99, Schiffer Publishing) by Willie B. Moseley. Moseley, a music journalist, guitarist, and senior writer for Vintage Guitar magazine, relies on first-hand interviews with bandmembers, their families, road crew, record company and management folks, and fellow musicians, along with the band’s archives and plenty of cool ephemera.

The genesis of “ARS” (as fans know them by shorthand) started with Buddy Buie. An extroverted songwriter/producer and seemingly endless source of energy, he had penned (with guitarist J.R. Cobb) hits for the Classics IV including “Spooky” and “Traces.” Eager to start his own thing, he began scouting for and working with talent from a wide variety of Southern and (especially Georgia-based) acts including Roy Orbison’s former backing group, the Candy Men (also a breeding ground for ARS members).

Eventually, a group of studio hot shots began to gather, including Cobb, fellow guitarist Barry Bailey, bassist Paul Goddard, keyboardist Dean “Ox” Daughtry, drummer Robert Nix, and vocalist Rodney Justo. After Buie opened his own Studio One recording studio in the smallish town of Doraville, Georgia, the next step was for these studio musicians to come together and create their own music (Toto would have a similar origin story of hired-guns-turned-actual-band). And thus, the tongue-in-cheek and on-purpose generic sounding The Atlanta Rhythm Section was born (the alternate name was…Blackbush).

Their 1972 self-titled debut didn’t go anywhere and Justo—frustrated by lack of opportunities and with a better paying gig lined up—left the group. He was replaced by the shy Ronnie Hammond, who would later struggle with alcohol and depression. ARS finally got a minor hit with an ode to their hometown, “Doraville,” off their third album, the cynically titled Third Annual Pipe Dream. It would take another three albums for “So Into You” to become their first major chart buster.

Hits continued through most of the ‘70s with “Imaginary Lover,” “I’m Not Gonna Let It Bother Me Tonight,” “Champagne Jam,” “Do It Or Die,” “Jukin’” and a cover of “Spooky.” They even played on the White House lawn in 1978 for President Jimmy Carter (a noted Southern Rock fan) at son Chip’s 28^th birthday party.

Moseley’s attention to detail is very impressive, as well as the number of voices he has represented. He also details many individual concerts—especially during the band’s heyday. Though one wishes for more quotes, even archival ones, from some of the members, Hammond and Nix highest on the list.

And rather than a boring recitation of dates and set lists, Moseley mines revealing and interesting anecdotes throughout. Like when the band toured Japan and went into a sushi restaurant. They—as custom dictated—had to leave their footwear at the door. Soon, a sizable contingent of the regular customers were gawking and pointing at the many pairs of seemingly impossibly large cowboy boots the band and crew had left sitting there.

The band’s fortunes would fall in the ‘80s and ‘90s as members left and sometimes came back, including even Justo, who’s had the lead singer spot permanently since 2011 as the band continues to tour. With Daughtry’s death last year, all of the “classic” six-man lineup are dead.

If anything, this solid and detailed book will encourage readers to delve into the rich and worthy catalog of the Atlanta Rhythm Section (especially the years on Polydor Records) beyond the familiar Classic Rock hits. And isn’t that a prime goal of any music biography?

This article originally appeared at HoustonPress.com