The Alternative Number Ones: Butthole Surfers’ “Pepper”

In The Alternative Number Ones, I’m reviewing every #1 single in the history of the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks/Alternative Songs, starting with the moment that the chart launched in 1988. This column is a companion piece to The Number Ones. The column is now biweekly, alternating with The Number Ones on Mondays.

This wasn't supposed to happen. All the forces of God and man lined up to ensure that this would not happen. The Butthole Surfers themselves were active conspirators in their own obscurity from the very moment that they chose the name "Butthole Surfers." For the longest time, the Butthole Surfers operated as a semi-successful institution precisely by being the kind of band who could not get played on alternative rock radio. Their music was frantic and ugly and quite often intentionally unlistenable. Instead, they made their name as a fucked-up circus act that would roll through town every so often and get banned from venues by setting shit on fire. This was the path that they chose in life. It's why people loved them.

In '80s underground rock circles, the Butthole Surfers' live show was the stuff of legend. Strobe lights went off incessantly. Dry ice billowed all through the room. Two drummers flailed away at stand-up kits while evil murk-wallow riffs filled the air and a big, scary fucker heaved beer cans directly at people's heads. Over the years, things got more elaborate. A naked woman with a shaved head and a psychedelically painted body danced ecstatically, and grisly medical films were projected over the band. There were stories about one particular clip — medical footage of a guy getting penis reconstruction surgery after an accident involving farm equipment — that would cause people to pass out or throw up. A Butthole Surfers live show was an experience. You didn't go for the music.