There are screeds and screeds dedicated to the Butthole Surfers. For most of their career they were a law unto themselves musically, and for a large part of their early career they were also a law unto themselves physically. Their 80s gigs are the stuff of legend, such was the level of disregard for human decency and safety.

Yet most stories are bookended with just how good they were live. Not because of their on-stage antics - although we can imagine slight/massive fear for one’s health or life would certainly heighten the experience of seeing them - but because of how well they managed to play and sound in amongst the whirling maelstrom of noise, limbs, fire and nakedness that they brought to every venue they stumbled into.

For the most part their records straddle the line between awesome genre bending songwriting and out ...