DISCLAIMER: These won’t be proper reviews -as if I could write those- or have interesting technical tidbits on them. These are more of a “ah, that song reminds me of…” thing. Like the part you skip on a recipe. So it goes.

Album: William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet: Music from the motion picture.

Release date: October 29, 1996.

Track: 6.

Moods: Nihilism. Morose.

Beavis & Butthead had a dual role on a particular section of 90s teens (and kids, I guess). One was a simple but effective social commentary hiding behind gross out humour and slapstick. The second one, and where it seems Mike Judge’s heart really was at: music reviewing.

Many an online talking head repeats that Nirvana killed the hair metal scene, but barely mention how much Beavis & Butthead off-the-cuff, savant commentary -and jabs- made or break the cool factor of a band.

So when “No laughing” aired in 1993, one of the videos the duo rave about is Butthole Surfers’ Who was in my room last night? The video’s frantic energy held me on a choke-hold and long nights waiting for it to air on 120 minutes managed to expand my music repertoire.

Sucks about MTV being now off the air forever. No second chances in life, I guess. It was a great way of finding new bands.

So, 1996. Pepper came and went, a great parody of Beck’s Loser, and a fantastic song on its own right. But it was Whatever (I had a dream) from Baz Luhrmann’s frantic, Tony Scottian adaptation of Romeo + Juliet where I found my all time fave Butthole Surfers track.

Starting with a sample from the flick, John Leguizamo’s chilling delivery of “Peace? I hate the word” sets the mood. Gibby Haines’ vocals really shine throughout. A calm demeanor swiftly goes into a sardonic, acerbic tirade, with that cynical “Yeah, whatever, rock out” rambling ending. Unnerving, industrial-like waves fade into the distance.

I bought this soundtrack on discount with The Crow: City of Angels, an album I’ve mentioned before. That major surgery I had in ’97 had a few blessings in disguise, mainly on the music front. Being a night owl means that you’re alone with your thoughts and music, and I really obsessed with this track for a long while. Looking back, a lot of what I wrote was my usual purple prose, but, hey, whatever gets you writing, right?

— Sam J. Valdés López