Scott H. Biram
"Nothin' But Blood"
Scott H. Biram is salaciously sanctified, resolute in his damnation. That's no joke — Biram does not cop to that can-I-get-an-amen shtick. And on "Nothin' But Blood" he extends his 11th invitation to join him on the ride. On this album Biram is slightly more acoustified than before. But this hellacious one-man band out of Texas still brings the pain and the heartache bathed in gutbucket-blues raunch, metal mania, and honky-tonk splendor. It's rough and raw. His demons are met head on with a shriek and a wink as Biram is lyrically couched in ironic humor. "Only whiskey can share my bed," he hollers in a mash-up of the black Delta and the hillbilly South, before intoning on tracks like Willie Dixon's "Back Door Man" with a ragged roar. Biram sings like a 10-foot-tall lumberjack or a jack-leg preacher, and "Nothin' But Blood" is dark, menacing, and lovely.