Barnes & Noble
It's not really all that difficult to elevate the potential of rock 'n' roll -- add a few spiritual proclamations here, a tastefully borrowed bit of pan-ethnic mufti there, and presto, you've reached enlightenment. Andrew W.K., on the other hand, has taken it upon himself to lower the lowest common denominator to levels not seen since the halcyon days of '70s party rock -- "party" and "rock" being two of the dozen or so words the shadowy midwesterner grunts out over the course of this hazmat-hauling boogie fest. There's not much for the power-ballad aficionado here, with thudding drums nicked from the back-corners of Slade and guitars set to "ooze" on lover-boy paeans such as "She Is Beautiful" and "Girl's Own Love" (a subtle rewrite of his earlier manifesto "Girl's Own Juice"). Still, the joyful single-mindedness with which W.K. (he insists it stands for "Who Knows?") and his cohorts approach the next party ("It's Time to Party," the glam-slam "Party Hard") and the nonchalance displayed towards the consequences ("Party 'Til You Puke") mark I Get Wet as 2002's pass-out album of the year. David Sprague
All Music Guide
Throwing the doors wide open on the musical guilty pleasures of twenty-somethings, I Get Wet turns hair metal hedonism, punk energy, and pop melodies into an instant, insistent blast of fun with all the power of a beer commercial. From the opening anthem, "It's Time to Party," to the excellently named finale, "Don't Stop Living in the Red," the album is all climax -- the blasting guitars, blaring keyboards, and Andrew W.K. himself are all turned up to 11 throughout. W.K. is a one-man manifesto, dedicated to spreading the way of the party with songs like "Party Hard" ("We do what we like and we like what we do!" could be "Dirty deeds done dirt cheap" several generations down the road), "Party Til You Puke," and "I Get Wet," and the fact that he looks like the stoner bully from high school only adds to his cred. Guessing whether or not Andrew W.K. is a big joke or not is almost beside the point; he comes on so strong that he either really means it, maaan, or he's got his tongue stuck firmly in his bloodied cheek. Either way, there's not much fence-sitting with his music -- you'll think the big, dumb, cartoonish "Girls Own Love" and "Ready to Die" are the stupidest songs you've ever heard, or you'll love them because they're the stupidest songs you've ever heard. Even I Get Wet's sensitive "She Is Beautiful," which is about being too shy to talk to a pretty girl, is about as subtle as a high schooler's after-shave...and just as awkwardly charming. While the album has a certain sameness due to the frenetic beat that drives nearly track, it's the perfect complement to W.K.'s party-centric vision. Refreshingly simple and cleverly stupid, I Get Wet makes indoctrination fun again. Heather Phares
Rolling Stone
"All thirty-six testosterone-soaked minutes of I Get Wet live up to the gory bravado of his already infamous cover photo: He's got blood on his face, big disgrace, screaming "party hard" all over the place." Rob Sheffield