A deeper look at the grooves pressed into Butthole Surfers’ self-titled 10” EP, released on Capitol Records in 1993. When Butthole Surfers signed with Capitol Records in 1993, it really must have seemed like anything was possible. By then, the years of living in a car, touring constantly and basically surviving on a steady diet of nothing were over; the band had unexpectedly broken through. Because they had attained a greater level of mainstream visibility, the band decided to live a little; because they had produced themselves on a shoestring budget for so long, they secured John Paul Jones (formerly of Led Zeppelin) to produce the album which would eventually become Independent Worm Saloon. To promote that album’s release, a selection of songs from it along with a couple of tracks which had fallen off during the sessions. It sounded like a solid potential seller, so the release was planned.
And, as soon as the release was planned, Butthole Surfers took it upon themselves to start messing with the whole idea, and made it generally confusing – in so doing. First, while the band already had a self-titled EP in their catalogue (it had been released on Jello Biafra’s Alternative Tentacles label in 1983), no one attached a name to this one to differentiate it from the other one. In addition, it was packaged in an opaque silver plastic bag with a fly on it, pressed on a ten-inch plate of brown vinyl (yes, for the obvious joke about flies and what they often land on) that spins at 45 rpm (or should – but if you play it at 33 rpm, it sounds even more terrifying) and enclosed in a sleeve which features a truly awful and confusing image that is difficult to identify. The idea of this release is the epitome of the weirdness that has always been associated with Butthole Surfers, but because it was pressed and released in incredibly limited quantities [this EP was sent to college radio stations, but never released in large numbers for sale –ed], it holds the distinction of being one of the more collectible commodities in the the band’s oeuvre too.
Those who can find a copy of Butthole Surfers 10” EP will recognize the rarity and perverse nature of what they have as soon as needle catches groove and “Chewin’ George Lucas’ Chocolate” opens the A-side with a wholly scatological joke before launching into the truly fantastic “Goofy’s Concern.” There, guitarist Paul Leary, bassist Jeff Pinkus and drummer King Coffey just explode into a cut which plays a little like the best Black Sabbath song you never heard – being played at 78 RPM instead of 45. The guitar figure which dominates the cut growls and spits furiously over a heavy and amped up rhythm section which absolutely owes its sound to the bass player of Led Zeppelin, but the greatest spotlight finds singer Gibby Haynes, here. By 1993, Haynes had already been manipulating his voice for years to great and terrifying effect on songs like “Sweat Loaf,” “U.S.S.A.,” “Tornados” and “To Parter,” but the Gibbytronix effects on his voice have really matured on “Goofy’s Concern” – Haynes’ doubled howls sound like a machine malfunctioning in a bathroom, and the “I don’t give a fuck about [insert random social construct – like “the CIA,” for example –ed]” reoccurring lyrics make for the catchiest kind of mindless nihilism that the band had committed to tape, up to that point. On this EP, the A-side ends with a cut called “Beat The Press” which is actually just the vomit sounds which appeared in “Clean It Up” without even the impression of the music which stretched that experiment out to over eight and a half minutes in duration (the sounds of vomit only last for a minute and a half, here), before the needle lifts and the side wants changing. It’s honestly not even sort of a great note (if one can even call it that) to close on, but perverse curiosity is still capable of causing listeners to want to continue on with the EP – the Surfers often had a history of shining a couple of turds up so bright that they could be spectacular when no one expected it, and that hope endures, here.
…And, while absolutely meaning to sound coy, hope and the Butthole Surfers’ tradition of burying some great, brown gems endures on the B-side of this 10”. “Gandhi” opens the running there. There, Haynes’ vocals are really little more than half-formed demo quality, and phrases like, “I know a secret” and, “My mind goes on forever” sound good but feature nothing in the way of a relatable punchline. Even so, the stringy, almost Rickenbacker-sounding guitar parts make for a surreal brand apart from almost every other song in the Surfers’ book and are capable of sounding hypnotic as the song progresses, and prove to stand as an excellent contrast to the completely unintelligible, swirling Gibbytronic showcase that is “Neee Neee.” There, Butthole Surfers both preview and deconstruct the effects and electronic touches which would later characterize both After The Astronaut and The Weird Revolution; metallic, squealing sounds pan left and right in a truly dizzying fashion but, just as listeners begin to really appreciate the sounds and general impression of sensory deprivation which comes with them, the cut finds its way into something which has a melodic form for about thirty seconds, and then it implodes. The effect caused by that implosion is a jarring one for listeners, but then stylus lifts and those who have fun front-to-back with this ten-inch will have no choice but to accept that the ride is over, and there is no more.
This critic won’t deny that, in spite of the fact that this EP is now thirty-three years old (yup, it’s 33 – there was a perfectly trite reason why the choice was made to review it this year: the anniversary is meaningless unless you choose to believe that the speed at which the record spins means something), only a few among the Butthole Surfers’ fanbase will appreciate the band’s self-titled 10”. There’s no question that, even within the band’s gleefully difficult catalogue, Butthole Surfers is a difficult release to understand or appreciate. It should be said though that, while it’s difficult, it’s not impossible and, with the Surfers finally releasing the long, long long-delayed album After The Astronaut, this year, revisiting this weird little 10” beast next month as a primer seems apt. For those who are itching to get weird and are ready for a revolution – even if they have to hunt unreasonably hard for a copy – this is a good place to pick up the trail before June [Bill Adams]
Further Reading:
Ground Control Magazine – Butthole Surfers – [Discography Review]
Artist:
https://www.buttholesurfers.com
https://buttholesurfers.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/ButtholeSurfersMusic
Album:
Finding a copy of Butthole Surfers’ self-titled 10” EP is, at this point, only really possible on Ebay (unless the band spontaneously decides to reissue it). However, consolation can be found in the release of After The Astronaut which is coming out on June 26, 2026. Pre-order it here on Sunset Blvd Records.
What Butthole Surfers’ 10” EP looks like, under the plastic
