2002 will not go down as one of the best years the recording industry has ever experienced, and the genres of heavy music seemed especially weak throughout the year. However, despite all the weak releases and bad gimmick acts that emerged this past year, Andrew W.K. stands out as one of the most unsightly members of the 'metal' community (even though this album was released in November of 2001, I'm counting it as a 2002 release, because that's when it really gained momentum). In the spring and summer of last year, he quickly rose to the attention of MTV and Top 40 radio, offering a catchy, marketable version of hard rock that would sell to college guys and Nsync fans alike. Basically, this album seems to be little more than an incredibly accessible version of what heavy metal used to be. It reminds me of the hair band movement of the 80's. And that's a terrible thought, indeed. Andrew W.K. isn't sexist, doesn't use drugs (as far as we know), and his hair is much more unkempt than the likes of Poison or Bon Jovi could EVER be, but the main parallel I draw between the 'cock rock' of today and yesteryear is this: lack of substance. They both suffer from a serious case of this affliction, and unfortunately, there is very little any self-respecting artist can do to cure this. Other than to sit back and enjoy the ride of temporary stardom and riches, I suppose.
Now the question is...how does one judge a record such as this? Do I base my opinion around its marketed appeal and delivery, or its actual musical content? I opt for the latter of the two. And it is because of that choice that I cannot give this album higher than two stars. It simply doesn't deserve it, in my mind. This record is nothing but tacky, over-produced pop rock, good for teenage girls and college frat boys. Bubblegum metal is back, friends, and her ugly head is planted directly atop Mr. W.K.'s shoulders. Now, I hate to be so harsh of the music, because I have no problem with Andrew himself...he seems like a nice enough guy. He's been described as 'a cross between Ozzy Osbourne and Jesus Christ', and I'd say that's fairly accurate. He seems like an upstanding man with a good head on his shoulders and a strong heart in his chest, and obviously has a lot of drive and passion in what he does. I have complete respect for that. Unfortunately, I just can't appreciate the music he's releasing.
This album is a party album, plain and simple. The songwriting on here offers no new revelations or outstanding moments throughout the entire record. The musicianship is lacking and bland to say the least, and everything from the guitar riffs to the synthesizer parts (of which there is a lethal overdose) seems unimaginative and hastily-written. It's catchy, I'll give it that. But mere anthematic choruses and catchy hooks do not make a five-star album. I Get Wet lacks the substance that makes a record great, instead wallowing in simple, intuitive rock and roll. For fans of bands who adopted this approach early on, (AC/DC, The Stones, and The Black Crowes come to mind) this record will offer appeal warranting multiple listens. However, for the music fan in search of more in-depth and meaningful songs, skip over this record, as you will find neither substance nor meaning within its 35-minute playing time. If you enjoy metal, as I do, learn from my mistake (I certainly hope no other metalheads out there are as ignorant and easily persuaded as I was in this case). Andrew W.K. is about as 'metal' as your kid sister's Barbie doll collection, except he wears all white, instead pink. The artist himself seems to be on the ball, dedicated to his music, and truly in love with life and the people in it. I only wish that his records were half as reassuring as his personality. Do yourself a favor and avoid this record.
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