Butthole Surfers took the stage at Brick by Brick for an hour and a half of grown men acting like profane hooligans, devastating all taste and propriety.
Gibby Haynes addressed the public with an apathetic "Hey...dudes" for the first and only time, right before an anarchic saxophone rendition of “Cowboy Bob.” His detachment fueled his energetic performance, which involved screaming the lyrics to “Who Was in My Room?” through a megaphone that demonically contorted his vocals.
The band was in fine form, particularly guitarist Paul Leary, whose beaten-down Strat permeated the thick atmosphere backed by surreal film projections.
Closing song “The Shah Sleeps in Lee Harvey's Grave” mutated into an improv jam session courtesy of the Gibbytronix machine. After several minutes of jittering feedback and caustic noise, the nightmarish image of the emaciated front man surveying the crowd was a fitting end to a disturbing experience.
Butthole Surfers took the stage at Brick by Brick for an hour and a half of grown men acting like profane hooligans, devastating all taste and propriety.
Gibby Haynes addressed the public with an apathetic "Hey...dudes" for the first and only time, right before an anarchic saxophone rendition of “Cowboy Bob.” His detachment fueled his energetic performance, which involved screaming the lyrics to “Who Was in My Room?” through a megaphone that demonically contorted his vocals.
The band was in fine form, particularly guitarist Paul Leary, whose beaten-down Strat permeated the thick atmosphere backed by surreal film projections.
Closing song “The Shah Sleeps in Lee Harvey's Grave” mutated into an improv jam session courtesy of the Gibbytronix machine. After several minutes of jittering feedback and caustic noise, the nightmarish image of the emaciated front man surveying the crowd was a fitting end to a disturbing experience.