phillip crandall

"It's Time To Party," the first track off of I Get Wet, opens with a rapid-fire guitar line - nothing fancy, just a couple crunchy power chords to acclimate the ears - repeated twice before a booming bass drum joins in to provide a quarter-note countdown. A faint, swirling effect intensifies with each bass kick and, by the eighth one, the ears have prepped themselves for the metal mayhem they are about to receive. When it all drops, and the joyous onslaught of a hundred guitars is finally realized, you'll have to forgive your ears for being duped into a false sense of security, because it's that second intensified drop a few seconds later - the one where yet more guitars manifest and Andrew W.K. slam-plants his vocal flag by screaming the song's titular line - that really floods the brain with endorphins, serotonin, dopamine, and whatever else formulates invincibility.

Polished to a bright overdubbed-to-oblivion sheen, the party-preaching I Get Wet didn't capture the zeitgeist of rock at the turn of the century; it captured the timelessness of youth, as energized, awesome, and unapologetically stupid as ever. With insights from friends and unprecedented help from the mythological maniac himself - whose sermon and pop sensibilities continue to polarize - this book chronicles the sound's evolution, uncovers the relevance of Steev Mike, and examines how Andrew W.K.'s inviting, inclusive lyrics create the ultimate shared experience between artist and audience.