There might have been a moment in 2003 when Scott H. Biram, quite literally near death after crashing head-on into a semi, made a deal: "Let me live, and I'll continue bringing my skronky Texas blues madness to the rest of world indefinitely and without compromise, amen." The Lord abided. Biram, whose music, perhaps coincidentally, sounds like the blues run headlong through the grill, engine and dash, and into the trucker's lap, pilots a one-man synthesis of Robert Johnson and C.W. McCall. In the tradition of possessed Texas maniacs such as ZZ Top, Bob Log III (who may or may not be from Texas) and Jon Wayne (the cranky roots poet, not the Duke), Scott H. Biram makes us feel those blues and maybe laugh a little along the way.