*musical memoir
The 1986 Butthole Surfers show at Theatre Gallery in Deep Ellum was the one that inspired and traumatized me for life in equal measure. I was there with my Mid-Cities pals Keith and Dwight, and apparently, the late Prozac Nation author Elizabeth Wurtzel was in the crowd that Friday night, too. The succession of concertgoers streaming out in disgust and horror confirmed that I was in the right place at exactly the right time. Forever grateful I will remain to Jeff Liles for booking this landmark gig, and for whatever inspiration and/or substances ingested by Gibby, Teresa, King Coffey, Jeff Pinkus, Paul Leary and their crew that led to this magical moment in time.
FUN FACTS:
I have a love-hate relationship with where I’m from, but along with Megan Thee Stallion, Janis, Barbara Lynn, Selena, Beyonce, Lydia, Willie, Waylon, George, Roky, Doug, Townes, Freddy, Charley, Pinata Protest, Fito, “Fathead,” and our other honorary rock stars Ann Richards and Molly Ivins, this band makes me mighty proud to be a Texan. Mighty proud.
From the San Antonio Current’s “Before 'Pepper' and MTV: An oral history of the Butthole Surfers' San Antonio years” (click on photo for story)
One of my best and dearest friends in the whole world is Taj, whose certified, ever-expanding, and encyclopedic knowledge of wine will knock you on your can, and whose former Sunday school teacher was King Coffey’s dad, at St. Luke’s in the Meadow in East Fort Worth (RIP).
Back in my early talk show booking days at KERA, I booked Krys Boyd’s interview with the late Jerry Haynes, Gibby’s dad and Mr. Peppermint, the imaginary dad to legions of kids across the North Texas region. He was a lovely human being, and Krys, with her usual skill and aplomb, delivered a tender and poignant interview that made me tear up in several places, right there in the control room. Hearing Mr. Haynes talk about his father’s suicide, being one of the first to report the assassination of President Kennedy, and his love for his wife and family cinched my adoration for him.
For you radio history nerds, “22 Going On 23” from Locust Abortion Technician made John Peel’s 1987 Festive Fifty list. Should anyone ever ask me (and they won’t), Locust Abortion Technician might be my essential Texas album, while Psychic…Powerless…Another Man’s Sac, Rembrandt Pussyhorse, and Locust Abortion Technician ranks in my heart as their equivalent to what the Berlin trilogy was for David Bowie.
More radio fun: as a DJ, front- or back-selling out of “Pepper” was always fun because there was always some kernel of trivia I could throw in, my favorite one being that “Pepper” was the most radio-friendly Butthole Surfers song you’d probably ever hear. Now that I think about it, “Human Cannonball” would be perfect for radio, but this band’s still way too ahead of their time.
