Most people don’t know Sean Sprecher’s name—not even his fans. The Boston-based lo-fi singer-songwriter uses fleeting pseudonyms like Sean Bean or Jeff Meff to mask his solo project Bad History Month, itself a twist on Fat History Month, his avant-folk duo. Yet his influence in the New England scene speaks for itself. Bad History Month is the one-man show that snuffs out chatter during a five-band bill. Artists like Sadie Dupuis and Krill offer eager endorsements of his music. Fans recount his lyrics like they’re quoting cult-classic TV characters, be it a sweet-toothed romantic or a guilt-ridden cowboy. His spiraling drum-and-guitar epics wring poetry from psychological breakdowns. But it’s only now, on Old Blues, his seventeenth release and the second full-length Bad History Month album, that Sprecher has revealed his real name. He’s also resigned as his own worst critic to try something new: attempting to forgive himself.Old Blues began as a concept album about the childhood immaturities we carry into adulthood: selfishness, grudges, confusion that manifests as disapproval. Across seven songs, Bad History Month analyzes previous poor judgements to imagine healthier ones. “Low Hanging Fruit” struggles to fathom others’ lived experiences as being equally real as one’s own. “Childlike Sense of Hatred” uses war (particularly the Israel-Palestine conflict) as a metaphor to explore how anger and lack of empathy fuel arguments. It’s easy to misread Bad History Month songs as misanthropic, but Sprecher knows where and when to come up for air. As he chronicles the evolution of his personal philosophy on “Want Not,” the 15-minute closer that confronts body acceptance and capitalism-induced shame, it’s clear some wounds remain open. But if Bad History Month songs are a way of holding humanity accountable, then Old Blues is Sprecher finding motivation to follow through in his own life. “Why are people terrible?” has become, “How can we fix ourselves?” Perhaps that’s why he finally felt comfortable crediting himself.
