By photojournalist Jeffrey Moellering
For those unfamiliar with Buckethead, he’s a towering 6’6” guitar virtuoso who dons a Michael Myers Halloween mask and a KFC bucket on his head—playing the guitar like a chainsaw massacre in musical form. On September 11th, he brought his wild, electrifying live show to The Ritz in Tampa’s Ybor City, where fans, many of them in costume, gathered in anticipation for what promised to be a truly unique experience. If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to attend a rock concert and a comic convention at the same time, this was it.
After a few years off the road, Buckethead’s return to full-scale touring was eagerly awaited by his dedicated fanbase. Lines wrapped around the block outside The Ritz, with everyone eager to secure a spot in the general admission venue for the night’s show. As anyone who’s seen him perform will tell you, a Buckethead concert isn’t just a musical event—it’s a sensory overload, a bizarre fusion of technical precision, improvisation, and a heap of eccentricity.
The evening began with a series of eerie ambient tracks that built tension, interspersed with old-timey radio drama clips that set the stage for something dark and strange. The lighting was minimal, with just enough to highlight Buckethead’s white mask and the infamous KFC bucket atop his head. It was almost unnerving—part horror film, part rock concert. As the lights flickered and the tension built, you couldn’t help but feel something strange was about to unfold.
As the show’s photographer, I’ll admit that the atmosphere made it difficult to capture the madness, with the venue almost pitch black for much of the performance. But in a way, that added to the energy—there was a certain rawness in the shadowy space that made the music feel even more visceral.
Without so much as a word to the audience, Buckethead kicked things off with just himself and a drummer, an arrangement that lasted for most of the night. The show immediately began with an intense barrage of industrial-style songs, driven by the drummer’s mechanical, relentless rhythms. Fans stood in rapt attention, absorbing the relentless sonic immersion that only Buckethead can deliver. At times, it felt less like a concert and more like an endurance test—something you experience as much as you listen to.
One of the things that makes a Buckethead show so captivating is his ability to weave through genres and musical styles with ease. He seamlessly blended movie themes, classical motifs, and even snippets from cartoons into his solos. Fans were treated to an unexpected mix of Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne riffs, with the drummer contributing vocals on several songs. The most bizarre inclusion was an eerily re-imagined version of Fleetwood Mac’s Rhiannon, also sung by the drummer. It’s moments like these that make Buckethead’s setlist unpredictable—his musical vocabulary is so vast, you never know what will come next. You could be deep in the throes of brutal metal, only to be swept into a delicate classical guitar line, or a twinkling Disney melody. And that’s what makes it exciting: you never know what he’ll pull from his “bucket.”
Buckethead is not just a guitar genius; he’s also a formidable bass player. For several songs, he played bass alongside another bassist, which added an interesting dynamic to the show. The dual bass lines created a heavy, groovy foundation that allowed him to let loose on guitar, bouncing between genres with jaw-dropping ease.
The setlist was a mix of older material from his vast solo catalog, along with newer compositions that spanned the full spectrum of Buckethead’s style. He’s released 31 solo albums, plus dozens of what he calls the “Pike” series, mini-albums usually around 30 minutes in length, each with a sequential number similar to a comic book. The man is seriously prolific, so there’s no telling where he will go during a given evening. The crowd was hypnotized for much of the night, pulled into his world—a place where genres blur, and expectations dissolve. One moment, you’re listening to smooth jazz; the next, you’re being thrust into a chaotic, heavy metal assault. It’s this versatility that makes him a mesmerizing live performer. His guitar playing felt like an extension of his very soul—sharp, deliberate, and yet, at times, seemingly effortless.
From violin-like tones to thunderous industrial crunch, from staccato speed metal to haunting jazz improvisation, his music was a constant barrage of unexpected twists and turns. Buckethead’s ability to blend these elements is astounding—his transitions from whimsical, almost childlike melodies to ferocious, face-melting solos were always jaw-dropping.
His refusal to speak to the crowd only added to his mystique. The masked figure on stage was an enigma, letting the music do all the talking. In fact, at one point, Buckethead brought out a masked head and held it up like a prize before continuing on with his set, maintaining his eerie, aloof persona. It’s moments like this that remind you that the Buckethead experience is about more than just the music—it’s about the art, the aura, and the mystery surrounding the man behind the mask. There’s an unspoken connection between him and his fans—one that’s rooted in the shared appreciation for the music, not for celebrity or stage presence. Buckethead doesn’t need to speak to connect with his audience; his playing speaks volumes on its own.
In a world where many musicians rely on gimmicks and crowd engagement to build rapport, Buckethead remains an uncompromising artist. His performance was a testament to the raw power of musical virtuosity. With his wide-ranging influences and flawless ability to navigate between genres, he offered a one-of-a-kind experience that’s both exhilarating and unnerving. If you ever have the chance to see him live, do yourself a favor and take it. But don’t forget to stop by KFC beforehand for your own bucket—because when it comes to Buckethead, you’ve got to play the part!
