“It felt as though we had joined a cult”: exploring the bizarre and unconventional realm of the band Butthole Surfers.

“It felt as though we had joined a cult”: exploring the bizarre and unconventional realm of the band Butthole Surfers.

Nudity, raging fires, belching smoke, blinding strobes, nightmare-inducing surgical videos, fights and firearms: these are some of the things you may have encountered at a Butthole Surfers show while being pummelled by a squealing cacophony of acid-fried psychedelic noise-rock, as a man tripping wildly in his underpants screams at you through a megaphone.

According to Paul Leary, the guitarist of the band, they were causing people to get sick and run away from their performances. He admits to being too harsh on their audience.

The first two albums and a live EP from the inactive Texas band will be re-released this month, with more albums coming later in the year. These reissues bring back the intense energy of a band that stands out among others. Combining elements of noise rock, British post-punk, tape manipulation, distorted vocals, and trippy psychedelia, this band has been adored by a diverse range of artists such as Kurt Cobain, Orbital, and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Drummer King Coffey reflects on their uniqueness, stating that they were dissimilar to most punk bands. Instead of conforming to the trend of playing faster and tougher, they were influenced by modern art. While they played for punk audiences, their music did not fit into the typical punk genre. In the early 1990s, during the rush for success after Nirvana’s rise to fame, they almost achieved mainstream success.

Butthole Surfers, San Antonio, July 1984.

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The group was established in 1981 by college students Leary and Gibby Haynes in San Antonio. Haynes was the captain of the basketball team and was named accountant of the year, while Leary aspired to be a stockbroker. However, they both had an interest in the unconventional. They published their own magazine, Strange VD, which showcased photos of unusual medical conditions with fabricated descriptions and fake diseases. Accidentally leaving a copy of the magazine in the office copier led to the end of Haynes’s brief career as an accountant.

The members of the band stumbled into the world of music. According to Leary, their initial performances consisted of music being used as a backdrop for performance art. Their focus was more on the artistic aspect, but soon music became the main focus. There was no semblance of a plan in their approach. Leary states that they were influenced by dadaism and appreciated the unpredictable nature of outcomes. In hindsight, Haynes sums up their intentions during the band’s early days as a desire for attention. They created art for the purpose of gaining money and recognition.

Influenced by alcohol, marijuana, and LSD, as well as a twisted sense of humor and a love for vulgarity, the band found themselves in a constant state of motion for years on end, arriving in towns without a place to stay or any scheduled performances, relying on chance encounters to sustain them. “We spent years living in a van and none of us had any personal lives outside of the band,” explains Coffey. “It was almost like we were part of some kind of cult with no way out. We destroyed any potential for a normal life.”

The band was extremely impoverished. They searched for loose change on the ground and had to resort to eating from garbage bins. The entire band suffered from scabies at some point. It was a harsh reality and not everyone could withstand it. After going through several bass players, the band eventually settled on Jeff Pinkus as a long-term member. While performing on stage, Haynes would often pour lighter fluid on a cymbal and create a fiery percussion display. One bass player’s breaking point was when he asked for milk to fulfill his body’s nutritional needs, only to be told there was not enough money for such luxuries. As Coffey recalls, the band operated like a commune and all their earnings were put back into the group’s funds.

Gibby Haynes.

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Their unusual records and traveling performances, resembling a freak show, gained them a loyal following of die-hard fans eager to witness the disorder. People would show up after hearing rumors of these eccentric individuals under the influence of LSD, hoping for their own trippy adventure, but instead left in a state of shock rather than enlightenment. The group transformed venues into nightmarish settings, projecting videos of actual autopsies, explosions, and genital reconstruction surgery while blasting abrasive noise, setting fires, and fogging the air with smoke. “We even had an entire wall of airport-grade strobe lights,” reminisces Leary. “Once they started flashing, you couldn’t escape the blinding light. You could cover your eyes, but you could still see your veins and even your skeleton. We had to stop the show a few times because someone in the audience was having an epileptic seizure.”

Between 1986 and 1989, performance artist Kathleen Lynch became a member of the band and performed as a nude dancer. Some concerts, such as an all-ages show that did not shy away from nudity, even resulted in a riot. While some of their actions were simply meant to shock and were immature and crude, the band also aimed to tap into something deeper and more meaningful. They unleashed a ferocious and intense sound that matched their chaotic visual performances, setting them apart from other bands. Guitarist Coffey recalls, “It was like a form of catharsis for me. It was so raw. Experiencing the pain, pressure, and joy of it all, and being fully present in the moment, was unlike anything else.”

“It’s hard to put into words, but the shows were like a psychedelic experience,” Haynes reflects on the chaos. It’s difficult to have a coherent conversation with the 66-year-old, as he frequently pauses, stays silent, and mumbles, almost as if he’s constantly trying to kickstart his brain. He goes off on tangents about artists like US rapper Post Malone, country duo The Chicks, and synth pop, and occasionally responds to questions by simply singing a Talking Heads song. “It’s because I smoked marijuana earlier,” he explains later, after forgetting the end of a long story about meeting Shane MacGowan. “Oh no! I messed up the whole story!” he exclaims, scolding himself before bursting into laughter. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s not even early onset, it’s the onset itself.”

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L-r: Gibby Haynes, Teresa Nervosa and King Coffey perform in Minneapolis, Minnesota, November 1985.

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It’s truly astonishing that both Haynes and his band survived, considering that the lead singer is infamous for their antics such as shooting guns during performances, stripping down, engaging in altercations with security, and even unintentionally setting themselves on fire. It’s no surprise that in his 60s, the singer is a bit erratic.

In a career filled with strange experiences, one of the most unusual events was when the Butthole Surfers nearly achieved mainstream success. During the alternative rock craze of the 1990s, even this unconventional group of eccentric individuals received attention and financial support. They signed with Capitol in 1993 for the album Independent Worm Saloon, produced by John Paul Jones of Led Zeppelin. Their song “Pepper” gained popularity on MTV in 1996, and their album Electriclarryland reached the top 40 in the United States. They were also featured on the successful soundtrack for Baz Luhrmann’s film Romeo + Juliet. However, as the popularity of alternative rock declined and the band members aged, they faced conflicts with management, lawsuits against their former label, and an unfinished album. Their lackluster release, Weird Revolution, in 2001 was their last. They continued to perform sporadically in the following years but have not played together in nearly a decade.

The Butthole Surfers were never going to follow a linear path and gracefully transition into a widely known and respected act. While some bands, like the Flaming Lips, were influenced by them and created a more polished and commercial version of their wild stage performances, the Butthole Surfers had too many uncontrollable elements to do the same. Reflecting on the past, Haynes acknowledges that their current abilities may not match their potential due to personal struggles with drug use. Leary also adds that the band members have their own personal demons.

‘It’s way better to be underrated than overrated’ … Butthole Surfers in July 1984.

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The band appears to be satisfied with the outcome. Haynes shares, “It’s much preferable to be undervalued than overvalued.” He further confirms that the Butthole Surfers are not overhyped. Coffey also expresses his contentment with the current situation, stating, “I hope to be misrepresented.” He believes that when one has to justify their art, it loses its essence. He adds, “I hope people form their own opinions about what we were or weren’t trying to achieve.” In jest, someone once claimed that their music was a cover for them to distribute LSD across the country. Coffey sarcastically responds, “Yeah, right, that was all just a convoluted plan.” He would rather encourage such misconceptions than try to explain how the influence of Yves Klein shaped their music.

Will this group of people in their sixties ever play music concerts again? Leary reveals that they have been receiving offers to perform for large sums of money, but he is not interested. He values their freedom and safety, and does not want to risk it by touring. Haynes also explains that he now has a 13-year-old son who brings him a lot of joy and he enjoys spending time with his family, like watching his son play sports.

  • The latest releases of Psychic… Powerless… Another Man’s Sac, Rembrandt Pussyhorse, and Live PCPPEP are now available on Matador Records.

Source: theguardian.com