Alright, this is bullshit. I've had it. Is this what we've been reduced to? Michigan metalheads copping ESPN Jock Jams, capitalizing on the shameful worst of the 1980s and bellowing incessantly about the wondrous virtues of the all-nighter? Rock critics who dissed this entire genre in its heyday now glorifying its second coming as somehow superior? If this is what the future of music has in store for us, why no apocalypse on New Year's Eve '99? Doesn't God care? Shit, maybe Y2K really was Armageddon, launching us headfirst into a great black xFC-metal abyss, and maybe Andrew W.K. is just the first of four pending horsemen.
And that, boys and girls, was about all I could muster on March 20th, just as the stormclouds began to crash together for what would soon spin into a torrential whirlwind of one-sheets and NMEs-- maybe one of the scariest hypes this planet's ever seen. I was overwhelmed!
I can't believe it's been 7 years since the very first time I let Andrew W.K.'s Seminole album 'I Get Wet' molest my brain. My best friend Pat and I used to listen to this album on repeat for hours on end, driving around phoenix, scream-singing 'Time to Party' at the top of our lungs. The most glorious moment of 2002 - up on stage with Andrew W.K. and Patrick, wasted drunk off of at least 3 Mind Erasers, doing the can can. This album is the opposite of the rest of my music tastes in every way and I couldn't adore it any more than I do.