Is this how anyone expected the Butthole Surfers’ story to end?

Chaos and absurdity made flesh, unleashed to pock the human psyche with explosive performances of gleeful depravity. With the classic lineup of Gibby Haynes, Paul Leary, King Coffey, JD Pinkus, and Teresa Nervosa, the Surfers’ concerts distorted sight, sound, and mind; they were dangerous, too, especially if anything caught fire (it often did) or if Gibby brought out his shotgun.

The music was abrasive dadaist post-punk dosed with brown acid, sarcasm walking hand in hand with sincerity. And man, it was really fucking good if you got it. Not everyone did. Too art for hardcore, too violent for the artists, but, for many like-minded wayward mutants, a guiding beacon from the Lone Star State.

It was bewildering and exhilarating when they scored a chart-topping alternative radio hit in 1996 with “Pepper." But as they rocketed to new heights, the Butthole Surfers detonated, cratering back into obscurity, and we never heard from them again.

Except that’s not how the story ends.

Now, following an almost 30-year delay, the Surfers have finally released their long-lost album After the Astronaut, recorded in 1998 but never released in its original form.