Even as the biggest streetwear brand on the planet, Supreme has maintained a through line of cheeky irreverence. In between real collaborations with world-renowned artists and luxury fashion brands, Supreme occasionally unfurls an impudent middle finger as if to remind fans that no amount of infamy will change the fact that Supreme is foremostly a skate brand. The latest wakeup call comes courtesy of the New York brand's new partnership with punk band Butthole Surfers, calling back to Supreme's origins as a label founded by skaters, for skaters.

The Butthole Surfers still perform to this day, nearly 40 years after they first got together in Texas. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to discern that a band called Butthole Surfers is pretty puerile, but that's part of their charm. Since debuting as a fuck-everything hardcore punk band (co-signed by Kurt Cobain, even), the Butthole Surfers have experimented with alt-rock, industrial metal, country, psychedelia, and noise without sacrificing their reliably childish humor. A couple hit singles — "Pepper," a Billboard #1, and "Who Was In My Room Last Night," later covered in Guitar Hero 2 and remixed by Trent Reznor — gave the Surfers a small shot of fame, but the devoted fan base garnered by their early records always ensured strong turnout at their famously chaotic live shows.

The anti-establishment ethos of the Butthole Surfers also made them a skate video staple. Tunes from Electriclarryland and Independent Worm Saloon appeared in '90s tapes like Foundation's Duty Now For The Future, Digital Skateboarding #6, respectively. Furthermore, Thrasher Magazine interviewed the Surfers almost a decade before naming them one of the "Top 15 Skate Bands of All Time" (simultaneously giving deserved props to Killdozer and Scratch Acid).

Supreme's Butthole Surfers collection is a well-earned acknowledgment of the band's relevance in skate culture, both in terms of its acid-soaked discography and ardent DIY ethos, even after it "sold out" to mega label Capitol (sounds familiar, huh?). That's one of the benefits to Supreme's immense scale, though. It can produce expansive seasonal drops while simultaneously flipping the bird to toxic masculinity by honoring Leigh Bowery, Nan Goldin, or even the antipathetic Butthole Surfers, a band with a frontman gleefully cross-dressing or stripping down to make audiences uncomfortable. Certainly, the Butthole Surfers weren't intentionally combatting heteronormativity in any way that approaches Bowery or Goldin's respective outputs, but they do represent a willingness to actively upset stale societal codes.

Just witness the iconic artwork that graces the Butthole Surfers' eponymous debut EP, which still informs the landing page of the band's defunct website and joins some other Surfer covers in the Supreme capsule. A hoodie, short-sleeved shirt, and T-shirts boast the trippy facade of Psychic... Powerless... Another Man's Sac, Locust Abortion Technician, and even two of Rembrandt Pussyhorse's covers. No chart-topping Butthole Surfers here, Supreme only reached for the fan-favorite records.

Of the many, many musical collaborations that Supreme has done, this Butthole Surfers drop isn't its most thoughtfully designed offering (nor is it the least). Don't get me wrong, I'm down for Locust Abortion Technician hoodies, even if it's just nostalgia calling. But the collection's staying power comes from its cultural relevance, not any kind of cleverly implemented album art. Here, Supreme is merely paying tribute to a band that mattered to '90s skaters, a salute to those who've been with the brand since the beginning and a wink to those in the know.