Although I have come across several critics whose reviews
claim the Butthole Surfers not only employ the worst album titles in music
history, but also have never released a decent album. I call bullshit on both
of those claims because it is just the Butthole Surfers’ way. And if you think
this title is odd, then how about their other titles like Psychic…Powerless…Another Man’s Sac, Cream Corn from the Socket of Davis, Rembrandt Pussyhorse, and how about this title for a debut EP: The Adventures of Pee-Pee the Sailor?
You see, with blatantly abstract and weird titles like these, you can only be
convinced that the Butthole Surfers know what they’re doing, and by their
standards, they do it well. While most can argue that titles like these are
only a mere stone’s toss away from a title like Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water, the fact remains
is that the Butthole Surfers has been using titles like these all along. They’ve
also consistently released albums whose sonic qualities question the true
definition of Avant-Garde and experimental rock (with emphasis on ‘mental’).
Consistency is key to any band who knows they’re worth their salt. Their consistent
visions are pure and true.
Their visions also include mutilating a traditional Thai
song in “Kuntz,” mangling Black Sabbath’s “Sweet Leaf,” in “Sweat Loaf,”
Gibbytronix (tape deformations named after lead singer Gibby Haynes) employed
mostly in “HAY,” and a creepy use of a phone conversation with a sexual abuse
victim in “22 Going On 23.” But for all its off-putting traits and tendencies,
each track has a certain charisma of its own that actually makes it…listenable.
Probably one of the best lines in any album I’ve heard is in
“Sweat Loaf” where a son asks his father what regret means. The father’s
response? “Well son, a funny thing about regret is it’s better to regret
something you have done than to regret something you haven’t done. And by the way,
if you see your mom this weekend, would you be sure to tell her…..SATAN SATAN
SATAN!” before going off into a feedback-laden rendition of Black Sabbath’s
“Sweet Leaf.”
Speaking of which, this is an album that could not have been
made without the aid of some hard drugs. Psychedelics, to be more specific.
Given that, and how downright bastardized the music is, psychedelics would have
to be the worst thing to consume while listening to this album. Then again,
anyone who is brave enough to undertake such a task would probably understand
the true meaning of this album. However, this reviewer does not have the means
nor the courage to trip acid to this album. I have better things to do with my
life. Cutting myself with the tip of a sharpened pencil would be a start.
But don’t let me put you off on this album. It is by no
means bad, just psychotic. An album can be unhinged mentally in every sense of
the word and still have a good quality to every track. The best part about this
album is that if you don’t like a song, the next one is not far away. Better
yet, if you don’t like the whole thing, you would have only wasted half an
hour.
Yes, I do like every track on this album. No, I am not
psychotic like its alchemists. I believe that the album is an exercise in
toleration for experimentation. As a listener, you become part of the
experiment. It will subject you to things you may not like, but by the end of
it, at least you’ll say, “Well, it’s not like I listened to a whole hour of
guitar feedback.” Cough* Lou Reed *cough cough
Music: 9/10
Lyrics: 8/10
Length: 10/10
Meaning:8/10
Significance: 9/10
Overall Impression: 9/10
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