I Can’t Even Begin to Tell You…
This show was a ridiculous experience. Foreboding weather, underdeveloped part of town, no definite way to get to the venue: It could have been a recipe for disaster. And it might have been a disaster, but it was saved by two things.
When we got to the Rock and Roll Hotel, it was immediately apparent that it was a cool place to see shows, but that all the bands were going to be bad (terrible, it turned out) and that AWK wasn’t playing until 12:30. We found ways to amuse ourselves: made fun of wierdos and beardos; I ordered a Shirley Temple; anything to steele ourselves for when Andrew W. K. would come out, drink in hand, and introduce the next band. At one point, we smelled funnel cake, and were disappointed to find out that it was only french fries. I was embarrassed for hoping for something so unlikely.
After he introduced the third opening act (of four), we decided to take a look around the block and try and kill some time. We could, after all, get back in the doors, so why not. It started to drizzle a bit when we stepped outside. The H street corridor is still years behind other areas of the city, even in terms of clubs. We were hit up for change maybe five times, and there was nowhere to eat; the guys inside Popeyes were mopping. Then, we say a little place with only a window outside. It was calling Philadelphia Water Ice, and much to our greedy dismay, they had FUNNEL CAKE.
Of course, among other things, we ordered two. But funnel cake takes a while. So, it started raining. Hard. We all crowded under the one-foot outcropping of roof, and the girl making the funnel cake and looking on her laptop laughed at us from inside. It was really nice in a way that’s hard to describe. Of course we complained, but it was lovely. And then we had funnel cake, and we finally got a break to run across the street to the bus stop.
The second thing was Andrew W. K. himself. If he asked me for all of my money, to cure cancer or just bring fun into someone’s life, I don’t think I could say no. That man is so sincere and so over the top it’s infectious and almost worrisome. He’s even kind of dropped his huskier macho voice and started using his real, kind of high, actual voice. It’s disarming. Dude rocked the shit out of the club. If you’re only familiar with “party hard,” go to his website and surf through the songs till you get to “Ready to Die.”