Scott H. Biram's new album, "Bad Ingredients," is the same as always, but better.
The Scott H.. Biram mythos is well-established: the self-styled “dirty old one man band,” a multi-instrumentalist Texas terror who raises the sort of ruckus that many full bands can’t muster. And though that accurately characterizes much of Biram’s output—a motley pyre of junkyard blues and fire-and-brimstone folk ignited with a heavy-metal intensity—it misses the nuances and depth of his music.
Biram plays the Catalyst Atrium Tuesday, Feb.21, at 830pm.
Fans and critics have greeted his latest album Bad Ingredients, which opens with the evocative Depression Era lament “Just Another River,” as a more “mature” or reflective effort than previous releases. But in Biram’s view, folks are just acknowledging what is a natural progression.
“It’s kind of a misconception that the album is more mellow,” Biram says. “I’ve just been writing songs as I always do, as they come to me. I think people think it’s mellower because my production has gotten better.” It’s an accurate assessment: Biram’s songs have matured, which is inevitable for a songwriter who has been at it as long as he has, but despite the elegiac album-opening song and tighter production, he raises just as much hell on this record as he ever has.
Biram is an entirely DIY operation, writing, recording and performing his work solo. He produces his albums in the full-fledged studio that claims three rooms of his house, which keeps recording costs low and gives him plenty of time for experimentation.
“Mark Rubin from the Bad Livers told me a long time ago that ‘there’s nothing people can do for you that you can’t do yourself,’ and I took that to heart,” Biram says. “If you go into a professional studio, you’re paying by the hour or the day, and you have to rush—there’s no room for experimenting.”
Maintaining complete control poses its own challenges, though. “One of the problems with the way that I do it is that I can record over and over again, because I’m too critical,” Biram notes. To get outside perspective, he plays demos for fellow musicians and his longsuffering roommate. “I definitely drive him nuts playing the same songs over and over again,” Biram chuckles.
The advantage to the DIY approach is that it frees Biram to focus on writing and playing over 200 tour dates a year with no need for a grand roadmap. “I’ve got a lot of ideas, but I’m never sure where I’m going with all of this,” he says, adding, “I’m not sure where I’m going, I just know beef jerky and beer.”
