TSSnSF: Butthole Surfers

Out of any band that will appear this month, one of the most beloved in my eyes is Butthole Surfers. Born from the twisted minds of lead singer Gibby Haynes and guitarist Jeff Leary, the band rose during the underground alternative movement of the mid 80s, where bands like Dinosaur Jr., Sonic Youth, and The Replacements thrived.

They were best seen live (and probably on psychedelics) where they employed a naked dancing woman, smoke, and (for a full epileptic fit) strobe lights. Combine all of it with a series of videos behind them including a negative copy of an episode of Charlie's Angels, images of accidents, gory driver's ed films and a film of penis reconstruction surgery. That would make one hell of a show.

Amidst albums entitled "Rembrandt Pussyhorse" and "Hairway To Steven," (which doesn't have an actual track list but rather crude drawings in place) live a series of freakish alt-rock tunes. Ranging from a man afraid someone is stalking him(Who Was In My Room Last Night?) to one of our deranged elders rambling on about his retirement plan down south (Moving To Florida). But my two personal favorites in the history of the Surfers are tracks from 1987's "Locust Abortion Technician."


The first one, Sweat Loaf, awashes us in a beautiful dreamlike sound (after a minute of silence) as an echo-y child asks his father what regret means. The sitcom-style father tells him that "it's better to regret something you have done, than to regret something you haven't done."

"Oh, and if you see your mother this weekend," he adds, "tell her I said SATAN." The word repeats for a few seconds as the dreamy sitcom world falls apart, leaving only a warped rendition of the riff of Black Sabbath's Sweet Leaf (hence the song's name). This goes on for the rest of the song, occasionally punctuated by Haynes' howls.




Yes, that is the back cover of the album.

The other song is a jaunty tune entitled 22 Going On 23. The song is a recorded radio conversation where a woman calls a late night on-air therapist explaining how she was sexually assaulted. The song is completely taken to a crazy zone as it is warped with crunching guitars, parts of the conversation repeated, and animal sounds turn a jarring discussion into something that can drive you insane.

But don't feel bad for the woman in the song. It turns out she was a pathological liar who called into the show every night.



Fun fact: Butthole Surfers were one of Kurt Cobain's favorite bands. That should tell you plenty about Kurt Cobain.