A Deep Dive into The Buttertones

The summer of 2024 is one I still think about a lot. I even have an entire album in my camera roll dedicated to it. It felt like every week something memorable happened, and I found myself surrounded by a lot of incredible people.

One of those memories came early in the summer when I made the trip to Cambridge, Massachusetts for my first concert upon getting my license. The venue was The Middle East Downstairs inside The Sonia, and although I didn't know it at the time, that night would become my favorite concert experience to date.

Or maybe that's just first-show bias.

Either way, I was there to see The Buttertones on the tenth anniversary tour for their self-titled debut album.

The Buttertones are a Los Angeles rock band whose sound pulls from surf rock, post-punk, garage rock, doo-wop, and plenty of other influences that shouldn't fit together nearly as well as they do. I'd known about them for years before finally giving their catalog the attention it deserved, and it didn't take long before I understood why people become so attached to this band.

The first thing that jumps out to me is the sheer intensity.

While they have slower, more vulnerable songs like "Infinite Tenderness" or "Eros", they never stay comfortable for very long. Around every corner is something explosive like "Sadie's a Sadist" or "Dak's Back", where the band completely unleashes itself. That unpredictability is what keeps me coming back. Their earlier records, especially, carry this restless energy that never really lets up.

What impresses me even more, though, is how well they build tension.

I think this is something a lot of artists struggle with today. So much modern music feels content sitting at one level of intensity from beginning to end. There isn't much anticipation. Everything arrives immediately. The Buttertones work the opposite way. Take the transition into the outro of the title track from Gravediggin'. The song slowly piles on layer after layer before finally erupting into one last release, capped off by Richard Araiza's guttural howl.

The same can be said for the sudden tempo shift in "Bad Girl", or the creeping introduction of "Life Coach". They're constantly finding new ways to keep the listener engaged instead of relying on the same formula from song to song. It's one of the reasons their music feels surprisingly cinematic.

That cinematic identity extended beyond the recordings, too. Early on, the band became known for performing in tailored suits, leaning into a vintage noir aesthetic that matched the music perfectly. The addition of saxophone throughout much of their catalog only reinforced that atmosphere, giving many songs an almost film-score quality.

Of course, The Buttertones haven't remained the same band over the years.

Like many long-running groups, they've experienced lineup changes, some routine, others far less so. Those changes naturally altered the band's chemistry and, in turn, their sound. Whether that's for better or worse depends entirely on who you ask, but through every shift they've managed to preserve a recognizable identity.

Listening through their discography almost feels like watching that evolution unfold in real time.

Their self-titled debut introduced defining songs like "Orpheus Under the Influence" and "Reminiscing". By the time Gravediggin' and later American Brunch arrived, they'd fully embraced the frantic surf-punk energy that many fans still associate with the band today.

Then came Midnight in a Moonless Dream, which, to me, represents the most cinematic point in their career. Every track feels larger than life while still maintaining the raw garage-rock DNA that made their earlier work so compelling. After that, things really began to change.

Jazzhound remains one of their more divisive releases, but I've always thought it gets misunderstood. Rather than trying to recreate their earlier records, it embraces darker synthesizers, drum machines, and a mood that feels considerably more isolated. It isn't an album meant for cruising around with the windows down. Instead, it feels like wandering through empty streets after midnight.

That shift doesn't make it better or worse; it simply makes it different. Songs like "Phantom Eyes" hit with an unexpected punch, while "Fade Away Gently" offers one of the most satisfying choruses they've ever written.

Their most recent album, Face to Face with Fantasy, continues that willingness to experiment. With another refreshed lineup, the record reaches in several different directions at once. "Chaos Reigns" channels some of the band's older aggression, while "Sweetest Sweetheart" settles into something much softer and more indie-leaning. Whether they'll continue down that road or pivot somewhere entirely different is anyone's guess. That unpredictability is part of what makes following this band so enjoyable.

The concert itself only reinforced that feeling. Smaller venues create a level of intimacy that's hard to replicate anywhere else. Before the show, Richard Araiza spent time talking with fans while the opener was on, and afterward the band continued hanging around, chatting with everyone who had come out. I even had a great conversation with Modeste Cobián, who had transitioned from drummer to guitarist, about writing the band's first record.

They were approachable, appreciative, and genuinely excited to talk with the people who had supported them for years. That experience convinced my friends and me that we'd absolutely be back the next time they toured.

Unfortunately, scheduling conflicts had other plans :(

A while later, I even called Richard during one of the band's promotional campaigns for new music. It wasn't a long conversation, but it stuck with me. Artists don't owe anyone that level of accessibility, yet moments like that remind you there are still musicians who genuinely appreciate the people who made their careers possible.

It's an easy quality to lose once success starts to build.

As for what's next, your guess is as good as mine. New music has been teased on and off for what feels like nearly two years now, but nobody really knows what direction The Buttertones are headed next. If their catalog has taught me anything, though, it's that trying to predict them is usually a waste of time.

I wouldn't want it any other way. It's the fact that I never know what's coming next that keeps me coming back.