The Beavis And Butthead Experience

Do I need to give the backstory of Beavis and Butthead? I’m assuming if you’re reading this, it’s probably because you know me, which means you’re roughly around my age group, give or take 10 years. Though you may not remember just how insanely popular they were at the time. It was the favorite cartoon of all the very juvenile idiots it was mocking… Hey, wait a minute.

I could probably write about how Beavis and Butthead was a major turning point in the history of MTV and maybe even animation itself, but fuck that, this isn’t English Lit.

Like many successful shows, Beavis and Butthead spawned a companion album. Companion albums are interesting. They’re not quite soundtracks, as the songs usually don’t appear on the shows. Instead, the songs are meant to invoke the mood of the show. Which is why The Beavis And Butthead Experience is kind of weird. Some of the bands don’t seem like the type that Beavis and Butthead would be into. Then again, I was into all of these bands at the time, so it’s not completely unlikely that they would be, too.

You might think AC/DC and Metallica are assholes for not appearing on this. After all, the boys wear their shirts all the time. But AC/DC probably had contract issues with their record label or something, after all, they did involve Beavis and Butthead on the Ballbreaker tour.



Metallica, on the other hand, probably were just assholes. Fucking Lars.

After a kind of amusing Beavis and Butthead intro that scared my cats, we go into Nirvana’s “I Hate Myself And Want To Die.” Even at the time, it felt really out of place. But history has sapped any dark humor the track might’ve held. It was the last Nirvana song to be released before Kurt Cobain killed himself. Still, it’s an outtake from the In Utero sessions, meaning it’s noisy and beautiful and better than anything on Nevermind. At the end, Butthead says, “Woah, that ruled.” Well spoken, sir.

Then we get a fantasy sequence where Beavis and Butthead hang out on Anthrax’ tour bus. It’s even funnier than Anthrax’ appearance on Married… With Children. Then they go into an okay cover of Beastie Boys’ “Looking Down The Barrel Of The Gun.” It was a very weird era for Anthrax (they also covered The Smiths for the Airheads soundtrack around the same time).

The slow groove parody “Come To Butthead” wears out its welcome quickly then things get serious again with the humorless Megadeth providing “99 Ways To Die,” one of the better songs from their commercial phase. The video for this track is all about hammering home an anti-gun message, furthering the disconnect between the song and the comedic nature of the album.

Back to the funny with another fantasy sequence where Beavis and Butthead hang out with Run DMC. How many metalheads back then actually liked Run DMC? Then again, I knew a lot of fans of the show back then who hated metal. Unfortunately, the boys from Hollis Queen tried to update their sound, which was probably a good idea at the time, but 90s hip hop hasn’t held up as well as 80s hip hop.

Aerosmith’s “Deuces Are Wild” is an AOR power ballad that their management decided wasn’t good enough for Pump. Yeah, gotta side with the suits on that one. Butthead’s comment that “these guys are the kings of rock” must’ve been mandated by the record company.

White Zombie gets all White Zombiey on “I Am Hell.” Primus get all Primusy on “Poetry And Prose.” (Though the lyrics are about watching the Beavis And Butthead cartoon. I’m not sure if that’s meta or breaking the fourth wall in the context of this album.) Sir Mix-A-Lot gets all Sir Mix-A-Loty on “Monster Mack.” And the Red Hot Chili Peppers get all shitty on a cover of “Search And Destroy.”

Jackyl’s “Mental Masturbation” has a decent boogie groove, but they should’ve brought their chainsaw.

Then we cap it all off with the album’s highlight: Beavis and Butthead teaming up with Cher on a truly awesome cover of “I Got You Babe.” (Okay, technically there’s a pointless reprise of “Come To Butthead” as a hidden track, but we won’t count it.) This track alone justifies the album’s existence.

This album is a very mixed bag and wildly uneven in tone, but the good outweigh the bad. In this mp3 world of ours, download those good songs and file them in their respective band’s folders on your playlist.

Plus this:

For Squirrels - "Example"

Let’s be honest. If you know of For Squirrels, it’s because half the band tragically died in a bus accident right before the release of Example. Upon hearing the story on the radio, my stepdad, thinking the band’s name was Four Squirrels, asked, “Are they going to change their name to Two Squirrels now?” My stepdad’s comedy career never took off.

I remember feeling at the time that the album showcased the band’s potential rather the band’s ability. Perhaps because of the circumstances surrounding the album, I listened to it for what it could be, not what it was. I’ll try to remedy it this time around. I will judge solely on the music. And be forewarned, this may be my least funny blog entry so far. Not because I feel any sort of morality to keep things respectful. If anything, mathematically speaking, this should be comedy gold. Tragedy + Time = Comedy. Both addends are high in this equation, so the sum should be proportionally higher.

But that joke has left a bad taste in my mouth. Fuck you, stepdad. If you hadn’t stolen a cable box one time so that I could watch Wrestlemania V as a kid, you’d be in running for worst stepparent ever. And I’m including all stepparents that have appeared in Disney.

The opening track is titled “8:02pm,” so I’m wondering if that’s some sort of code and I’m supposed to start playing the album at exactly 8:02pm while smoking acorns in order to see a giant squirrel appear before me. But my luck, I’d only get a chipmunk. It’s an irresistibly catchy tune nonetheless. Ditto “Orangeworker,” which reminds me of Green-era R.E.M. Maybe, the Orangeworker has an Orange Crush… I told you this wasn’t going to be a very funny blog entry.

“Superstar” reminds me of Monster-era R.E.M. And I mean that as a compliment. I think I’m the only person in the world who actually likes that album. Then we reach the “hit” single “The Mighty K.C.” I don’t know if it fully counts as a hit, but it got a fair amount of airtime at the time. It was probably due more to a combination of the band’s tragic backstory and the fact that it was about Kurt Cobain.

Sure, this was a year and a half after Cobain’s suicide, but we as a nation still hadn’t come to terms with our grief. Hell, Bush was still churning out hits with their paint-by-Nirvana formulaic tunes. But “The Mighty K.C.” is a hell of a song. I don’t get why this is no longer in regular radio rotation but Marcy Playground’s “Sex And Candy” is.

“Long Live The King” has a goofy kind of weird energy that could pass off as a Pixies outtake. You know what? This album is really good. Not amazingly good, but “I’ll pick it up the next time I find it used” good. It’s no masterpiece by far, but there’s no bad songs either, which is just as important.

Ultimately, it’s impossible not to listen to this without some bit of a “what could have been” filter. A couple more albums and they may have given us a true masterpiece. Or they may have just fizzled and this would’ve been their sole shining moment anyhow. But boy, does it ever shine. Queue this album up on Spotify sometime, it deserves 40 minutes of your time. I’d advise against smoking acorns, though.