Wildman Andrew W.K. brings outsized persona, nuclear zeal and party mayhem to The Pyramid Scheme

The debut of Local Spins music critic John Serba has him tackling the ‘really high on life’ bravado of ‘the craziest person in the room’: Andrew W.K. whose tour stopped in Grand Rapids on Thursday.

 

Andrew W.K. is the poster boy for PMA, the human hyperbole, a rock-’em-sock-’em carpe-diem evangelist in a grubby T-shirt.

For live shows, he’s backed by three guitarists, a bassist, a keyboardist and a drummer who plays like Animal from “The Muppets” after eating a mountain of meth – the type of wall-of-sound lineup that might dwarf a lesser vocalist.

But not W.K. His outsized persona will not be eclipsed. He’s all teeth (smiling) and thumbs (up) and muscles (pumped). He will shout his rah-rah hooray-for-now pro-partying slogans above any din. His high-decibel W.K.-ness will force itself into every corner of any room. He won’t just reach the back row – he’ll obliterate it with nuclear zeal.

Even crammed into The Pyramid Scheme Thursday night, playing for a sold-out crowd of 420 enthusiastic fans, W.K. somehow found the space on the small stage to give a physically kinetic performance rife with fist-pumping, headbanging and miscellaneous thrashing. His endurance knew no bounds. At the tail end of his sweaty, kinetic set, a sustained instance of flailing limbs and whipped hair superseded his every previous maniacally aerobic display. Even after 90 minutes, the guy had energy to spare. He must be really, really, really, really, really high on life.

I’d say he often appeared to defy the laws of physics, but that would imply a lack of sanity on my part. And it would simply not be true, because W.K. is obviously the craziest person in the room.

W.K.’s music is distinctive, partly because nobody else is ridiculous enough to write major-key metal riffs drenched in plasticky Velveeta keys and shellacked with several layers of yelling. No song he writes can be too repetitive – arrangements typically consist of steamroller melodies coupled with gangland choruses in which the song title is reiterated so many times, you’ll feel utterly pummeled by positivity.

‘WAY PARTIER THAN ANY PARTY’

Lyrically, every song is self-explanatory: “Take it Off” is about taking it off, “Tear it Up” is about tearing it up, “We Want Fun” is about wanting fun, etc. An incomprehensible WK keyboard solo preceded “I Get Wet,” about sweating, and how doing so means one is meeting the hard-partying W.K. standard.

An incomprehensible W.K. guitar solo – played on a Taco-shaped guitar – preceded “She is Beautiful,” about a female who W.K. finds pleasing to the eye and the heart. W.K. stretched his vocals to a falsetto and his hands heavenward for “Music is Worth Living For,” a number impressive not just for its heavy metal operatics, but also for leaving that preposition so precipitously dangling.

During the saggy midsection of the set, W.K. indulged in “Break the Curse” and “You’re Not Alone,” two cuts that stood out contextually as Meat Loaf-like quasi-ballads, simply because they broke up an evening otherwise stuffed with punch-drunk uptempo anthems. Of course, he capped the show with his inescapable hit, “Party Hard,” the most repetitively shouted thing among the many repetitively shouted things W.K. repetitively shouted all night. The song is about partying hard, which functions as a metaphor for enjoying the very loud moment one finds oneself in right now, preferably repetitively shouting along with Andrew W.K.

Between songs, W.K. – A singer-songwriter? Performance artist? Clown? I’ll settle for “artist” – affected a gruff-voiced character who chooses affirmation over negativity, and takes no issue with modifying the word “party” into the adjective “partier.” I’ll use it in a sentence: “The Andrew W.K. show was way partier than any party at which I’ve ever partied hard at.”

According to Andrew W.K., Thursday’s Andrew W.K. show — a stop on his North American “You’re Not Alone” tour — was even more partier than usual, because it took place in Michigan, and he grew up in Michigan (specifically, Ann Arbor). It was even more more partier of a party in Grand Rapids, because his bassist, Gregg Roberts, was born here, and enjoying a homecoming gig. Any excuse to party extra hard, right?

I’d say W.K.’s “party hard” ideology is a philosophy, but frankly, there’s no subtext to be found. It’s all text, boldface and in your face. His credo is so sincere, you have to enjoy it ironically. Or maybe it should be the other way around. I dunno. Searching for significant meaning in the music is like panning for gold in your cereal bowl: You’re not going to find anything in there but Froot Loops.

John Serba is a former longtime movie critic and music reviewer for The Grand Rapids Press and MLive. You can now find his writings and musings at johnserbaatlarge.com.

PHOTO GALLERY: Andrew W.K., Lokella, Tired Blood at The Pyramid Scheme
Photos by Anthony Norkus

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