63. sweat loaf

“I’ve said it before. I’m sure I’ll say it again. If the Butthole Surfers hadn’t existed, it would’ve been necessary to invent them. Because somebody had to do it, finally deliver a noise that was the manifestation of everything any decent, god-fearing parent or businessman or teacher or priest or shopkeeper or hockey coach had ever feared about so-called rock and roll, and worse.

Like that family of three that went missing in the vicinity of the Butthole Surfers’ compound in rural Texas, the young son butchered by the band, barbecued and force-fed to the dad who went mad and was later found naked at the side of the road, babbling, claiming he knew the truth about who killed JFK and the Jonestown massacres and how the Trilateral Commission figured into it all. Meanwhile, the mom just joined band, danced with them on stage, naked, and helped sell merchandise afterward. Such was the ugly and evil infamy of the Butthole Surfers circa 1987 … but only if you didn’t get the joke. Like their ‘cover’ of Black Sabbath’s Sweet Leaf, the title adjusted, everything else turned up and on its head. Better than the original by orders of magnitude, and Satan.” (Philip Random)

732. she’s about a mover

“If this was Texas, this song wouldn’t be on this list.  Because we’d all know the Sir Douglas Quintet for the geniuses they were, Doug Sahm in particular. Hell we’d all probably be well sick of She’s About a Mover by now. But here (ie: everywhere else but Texas really) it’s a neglected rarity at best – the kind of thing you find at a yard sale, in the back of a box of 7-inch 45s, not even in a sleeve.  Cost me twenty-five cents.” (Philip Random)

SirDouglasQuintet-1965

908. can you dig my vibrations?

In which Doug Sahm (aka Sir Douglas Quintet) finds himself in barely post Summer of Love (and madness) Haight-Ashbury (while fleeing a Texas drug bust) and gets in touch with some pretty serious vibrations. “Serious enough to percolate through the decades and finally find me in early winter 1999, stoned on some un-named island, half-seriously wondering if the world was going to end at midnight, New Years Eve. They settled me. The vibrations, that is.” (Philip Random)