United Mutations
a Buckethead interview by Jason Pettigrew
Buckethead is a weird mofo. The kids love to see him shred while the avant-underground applauds his every metacarpal maneuver on the fretboard. Nobody in recent memory can claim a weirderfan base than this mysterious character under a chicken-bucket hat and plastic kabuki mask.
And mysterious is how he keeps it. At a recent Cleveland show opening for his old bots Primus, the six-stringed samurai stays sequestered backstage, choosing to have his longtime buddy Herbie do the talking for him. "He gets frustrated because he never thinks to say the things he wants to say," says Herbie, a tall guy with long curly hair and huge hands. "It sounds corny, but he really prefers to let his music express his feelings."
Buckethead's weird journey began as a BucketBot of Bay Area miscreants the Deli Creeps. The Creeps were buddies with kitchen-sink rockers Mr. Bungle, whose then-producer John Zorn was impressed by B-head's talents. Zorn introduced the guitarist to the avant-improv set focusing around British guitarist Derek Bailey's Company Week festivals. Soon, producer/bassist Bill Laswell got wind of Buckethead's shred aesthetic and enlisted the guitarist to rip it up with funk luminaries Bootsy Collins and Bernie Worrell on the Praxis album (Transmutation). Bucket's notoriety has expanded ever since, with recordings ranging from indulgent guitar histrionics (Bucketheadland), acoustic purity (Colma), and forboding ambience usually recorded under the name Death Cube K (rearrange the letters, kids).
On his latest release, Monsters And Robots (Higher Octave/Virgin), Buckethead throws down collision-course fusions of metal, free jazz, abstract electronica, scratch-funk and drum & bass percolations. You get the feeling that although he has the moves-as well as the carpal tunnel syndrome-he wants nothing to do with the poodle-metal speed-demon bores on the covers of faded issues of Guitar Player.
"Totally," says Herbie. "He's into exploring new things, but only if he's into it. He just reacts to a style and lets his instinct carry him. He'll hear something, and it'll just click." Herbie looks down at his watch and apologizes. "Dude, I've got to run, he's expecting me."
Later during Primus' set, Buckethead comes out to play "The Story Of Buckethead," a high-octane narrative from the new album written and sung by Primus frontman Les Claypool. I dodge flying bodies in the mosh pit to get close to the stage, and I notice that Monsieur Boo-ket's hands are stunningly huge. The long curly hair under the bucket looks familiar, and it seems that he's wearing Herbie's watch. Then, as though he's made a telepathic connection to what I'm thinking, the song ends and he's off the stage in a nanosecond. Speed kills, but in some crowds it just merely astonishes.
Copyright Alternative Press magazine - February 2000, #139
