Scott H. Biram bills himself as "the Dirty Old One Man Band," and he lives up to the moniker by cranking his Gibson through a fuzzy old amp, blowing primordial blues harp with the aid of a harmonica rack, and providing relentless rhythms with an amplified homemade foot stomp board and a high-hat cymbal. In his misspent youth, Biram played in more conventional punk and bluegrass bands, but discovered he could make more of an impact on his own with an in-your-face stage presence. A Biram performance can be a scary thing, as he growls his way through a sweat-drenched collection of songs dealing with drunken driving, drug smuggling, and other forms of self-destructive behavior delivered in a primitive sandpaper squawk that has to be experienced to be believed. Biram adds the blistering energy of punk to a potent brew that blends blues, metal, bluegrass, Tejano, zydeco and hard-core honky-tonk country to achieve its dramatic effect. His between-song rants about women, prison, hellfire, damnation, and the ultimate abyss confronting us combine the fever of a revival preacher with the freeform rants of a street-corner psychotic to put the gangrenous icing on his depraved cake.
Recommended For YouPowered by SailThru
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!