And there, in a lysergically altered nutshell, is the raison d'être of the Butthole Surfers, the mad Texas geniuses whose hallucinogenic high jinks have made them one of the most singular and unclassifiable bands of the last 20 years. Since the release of their eponymous debut in 1981, the Butthole Surfers have gone from being indie darlings to gold-selling major-label artists without any compromise -- though plenty of controversy. After a string of bizarre and infinitely entertaining releases on Alternative Tentacles and Touch and Go, the Surfers were branded sellouts in some circles with their signing to Capitol.
"Convenient, wasn't it?" Haynes says of the irony in being considered an indie traitor for signing with a major. "Everybody sells out. Someone's got to buy it, and someone's got to push it. You give the label something, and they get something. You feel obligated to throw them a few crumbs when they invest time and money in you, and they seem to make sense. What's good about it is, they're just as confused and fucked up as everybody else."
Speaking of confused and fucked up, did we mention the Buttholes' latest? A bewildering, feverish hodgepodge, Weird Revolution is among the finest work in the band's catalog, encompassing every odd style shift it's forged in its varied career. "I'm a fucking genius," Haynes says, with typical acid-abetted aplomb, when praised for Weird Revolution. "I was born a fucking genius, but it's unfortunate that I won't die a genius."
