Butthole Surfers frontman Gibby Haynes is now multiple decades removed from the height of his public lunacy.<\/p>\n
He and his band earned a cult following for antics including firing a 12-gauge pump shotgun<\/a> over the crowd mid-set at Lollapalooza 1991, engaging in what appeared to be on-stage sex at Danceteria in 1986 and otherwise putting on reliably deranged shows, all while managing to have a major Billboard top hit<\/a>.<\/p>\n Today, Haynes is pushing 70 and mostly sober, living with his wife and high school-aged son in Red Hook. But his freak flag still flies.<\/p>\n In recent years, he’s published a young adult novel about a supernatural dog<\/a> and was the subject of the documentary \u201cThe Hole Truth And Nothing Butt<\/a>\u201d by director Tom Stern. The Butthole Surfers’ lost 1998 album \u201cAfter The Astronaut<\/a>\u201d is set to be released next month. Haynes is also playing Williamsburg mainstay Union Pool every Wednesday this August with a yet-unnamed band.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re probably gonna announce the name right before the set, and then stop the first song midway and change our band name and do that every song so that we will be two different band names,\u201d he explained in a recent phone interview. \u201cTheoretically, then, we might play under 22 band names with an 11-song set.\u201d<\/p>\n This vague plan has deeply stressed out the booking agent, who is anxious to lock in information for promotional materials, Haynes said. When pressed, Haynes offered him a temporary name for the band: the Dope-Headed Stranger. This was inspired by a missing-tooth selfie Haynes took of his bloody mouth, which he sent to the agent when pushed for an image to be used on a flyer.<\/p>\n \u201cI [was] playing catch with my son, and \u2014 he\u2019s gotten a little better at baseball and basketball \u2014 but his little fastball tailed off and it came off my glove and knocked my front tooth out,\u201d Haynes said. \u201cSo I\u2019ve got this cool look nowadays.\u201d<\/p>\n He said the booking agent is not enthused about the rather gory image, and Haynes’ wife \u201chates it.”<\/p>\n Haynes’ wife is the reason the Texas native and enduring symbol of the state\u2019s outlaw insanity moved to New York.<\/p>\n \u201cI stayed here months at a time back in the \u201880s, when we weren\u2019t traveling,\u201d he said. Then he moved here permanently, \u201cto hang out with my girlfriend when she was at the tail end of law school.\u201d<\/p>\n This was around 2003, so \u201cit wasn\u2019t right after 9\/11\u201d but parts of Manhattan \u201cstill smelled like burning circuits,\u201d he recalled. For the most part, he\u2019s been here ever since.<\/p>\n Does Haynes miss Texas?<\/p>\n \u201cNot really,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Why not?<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,” he added. “I don\u2019t miss every place I\u2019ve ever been.\u201d<\/p>\n Haynes’ folks are gone, so he doesn\u2019t go back for Christmas anymore. His sister is still there, but he can\u2019t stand her politics.<\/p>\n Does that mean that New York has captured his heart?<\/p>\n \u201cThey got better Chinese food here,\u201d he responded, dryly.<\/p>\n Then he got excited: Once, a Village Voice food critic took him to a hole-in-the-wall Szechuan spot somewhere in deep Brooklyn, near Bay Ridge, and they ordered a beef dish that \u201chad probably four heaping tablespoons of cumin on it. And oh my God, it\u2019s so good. I had no idea eating that much cumin would, like, not kill you. It\u2019s amazing.\u201d<\/p>\n I asked for other city favorites. He described what I\u2019m almost certain is Astoria Seafood, as well as a speakeasy in the back of a Financial District deli. Once he went whale watching on a boat that left from just south of the old Fulton Fish Market, near Battery Park, which he recommends.<\/p>\n