Rock ‘n’ Roll ain’t pretty and neither is Scott H. Biram. The self proclaimed ‘Dirty Old One Man Band’ successfully, and sometimes violently, lashes together blues, hillbilly and country precariously to raucous punk and godless metal.
Biram ain’t no candy-ass singer/songwriter either, sweetly strumming songs about girls with big eyes and dusty highways. His singing, yodeling, growling, leering and brash preachin’ and hollerin’ is accompanied by sloppy riffs and licks from his ’59 Gibson guitar and pounding backbeat brought forth by his amplified left foot. The remainder of this one-man band consists of an unwieldy combination of beat-up amplifiers and old microphones strung together by a tangled mess of guitar cables.
Years of non-stop touring have honed his assault to a fine edge; his wide-eyed throw downs in the First Church of Ultimate Fanaticism routinely lead giddy followers to a fiery baptism.
Being raised in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains and stemming from three chord punk rock provides for a unique twist on traditional instruments. With their first album “Empty Flask, Empty Heart”, the songs are described as an “aggressive yet melodic collection” ranging from fast and punchy tales of rambling and love, to dark and soulful songs birthed from whiskey and regret.
“Their live set is performed as impeccably as their studio set, and you really can feel how much energy, love, and emotion is poured not only into their writing, but into their performance.”