Andrew W.K.: Classically Sincere

(PHOTO: Lydia Russo)

You’d be forgiven for thinking that a man who dresses in all white, moonlights as an inspirational speaker, and belts out the anthem “Party Party Party” is just having a laugh. But don’t get it twisted—Andrew W.K. is pretty damn serious, whether he’s collaborating in the studio with Lee “Scratch” Perry or drumming for  noise-rock wet dream, To Live and Shave in L.A. Two recent New York solo piano performances add a further, refined layer to the artist previously responsible for lines like “We kill, we stab, we rob, we steal/party till you puke.”

Sunday's set at Pianos built on a November '07 performance at Cake Shop, in which the rocker stuck to a handful of originals, along with jazzed-up experimental noise and a riff on Bach. This time around, W.K. took the stage clad head-to-toe in black and began without much preamble. What did the sold-out crowd expect? Perhaps a piece of weirdo performance art, a la Feist-collaborator Gonzales and his absurd organ recitals; perhaps a long-haired rocker who would crush beer cans on his head while pounding out “Chopsticks.”

What followed was instead shocking in its sincerity: a 15-song set, mostly comprised of unreleased pieces and covers, most of which sounded like an uncanny mash-up of early Elton John, Journey, Smog and Lambchop. Cool classic rock crooning abutted atonal ivory trilling, with short instrumental pieces strung throughout. W.K. covered the eccentric folkie Baby Dee, Jimmy Webb’s “The Moon’s a Harsh Mistress” and a song written by his wife, Cherie Lily. Three additional covers were penned by Scott Engel (a.k.a. Scott Walker.) He closed with an impassioned rendition of fan favorite “I Get Wet”—the only conventional, cheeky note in an evening devoid of ironic posturing.

"I don't know what the audience thinks, and that's part of the excitement. I'm guessing they don't know what I think, and hopefully that's exciting for them," W.K. told PLAY, adding that his first solo piano show in this vein took place in the basement of a Mexican restaurant in Lansing, Michigan, circa 2007. "When you expose your vulnerability to an audience—and show them you respect the power they have to make or break you—you're giving them all you can give as a performer. That makes a good show—or at least a thrilling sort of tightrope walk."