I was waiting for Cooper outside Slacker’s. I knew that he wouldn’t come out until after he met Andrew WK. I didn’t know exactly why he wanted to meet Andrew WK or what he could want to say to him, but I soon found myself waiting in the line with him and Ben. I guess I was curious, too.

So, once the guys in front of us had exhausted their AWK tribute dance moves after being promised spots on the guest list by the man himself (they had no money and could not make it to the show, Andrew graciously granted them tickets on the exception that they “dance all night as hard as they can”), we moved up. Cooper got a flyer signed for the drummer from his band, the One Inch Punch, and I held out a cd by the group Wolf Eyes and asked Andrew if he’d sign it for me. You see, Andrew WK released his first independently produced music on a label called Hansen, which is the label run by Wolf Eyes’ guitarist Aaron Dilloway. WK has come a long way since his indie days, so I thought he would maybe appreciate the gesture. In an interview that was posted somewhere in the mangled mass of media that is the internet, I read that AWK wanted to take Wolf Eyes out on the road with him, but that their tour window was too limited. I think it would be amazing to see an Andrew WK audience reaction to the glacial terror of Wolf Eyes’ feral maelstrom. He signed the cd: “Sean: These are some nice sounding sounds. I know. Your friend, Andrew WK. PARTY HARD!” He also said that, as a result of my inquiry, he would try to set up some live dates with Wolf Eyes.

I went home and blasted the Wolf Eyes disc as I got into my costume. I was dressed head to toe in green with a green eye mask and green hair spray that burned my skin as I applied it and smelled completely toxic. Guess what I was?

Walking into the Blue Note, the power pop proponents Missouri Sex Offenders could be heard paying exuberant tribute to the beauty of “Septembur Gurls.” There was a minor amount of controversy surrounding the MSO appearance at the Blue Note that night, but all static was soon forgotten while these boys whipped the crowd into a frenzy (which, admittedly, wasn’t the hardest thing to do to at an Andrew WK show) with their tight covers of the Real Kids and Cheap Trick. I was warmed by their performance and by the audience’s whole-hearted approval and acceptance. Cover bands on Halloween just make sense.

Next up were the I Love You but I’m Not in Love With You’s, Columbia’s sons of sin, snot, and society. In true punk fashion, the I Love You’s divided the audience right down the middle. Those fans of Andrew WK who just love to have fun and celebrate the right to party were jamming in the aisles, while the professional wrestling/homophobic set visibly cringed at Stephen’s shrill pleas for dry humping. I think they only had to redo the beginning of one song after a false start. The I Love You’s are a great reminder that punk rock isn’t all hardcore bravado or emo posing, it’s also genuine weirdness and the will to piss everybody off.

The costume contest that followed the opening sets dragged on for an interminable 45 minutes. The judges, whom included two of KCOU’s finest, were put upon by the large (and loud) group of pro wrestling fans who repeatedly shouted for their best buddies (an admittedly impressive Macho Man Randy Savage and a horribly lame Hacksaw Jim Duggan). The prize should have gone to the gentleman sporting attire inspired by a character from Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle. This guy clearly spent a lot of time and effort in pulling off his perfectly realized tribute to art house cinema. Instead, a skinny blonde kid wearing a Celtics uniform took home the prize. Larry Bird!? Come on…

Andrew WK took his sweet time getting on stage, so I took full advantage of the situation by imbibing beers as quickly as the bar staff could serve them. I wanted to get a as degraded as possible this Halloween. There is no better place to do that than a show that celebrates Partying to the point of sickness as a life-affirming gesture. I would have joined the AWK army on Halloween if one existed. The costumed throng assembled in front of the stage, waiting for the appearance of the long greasy mane, acid washed jeans, white t-shirt, and dated high-tops of the most divisive character in popular music. Once the guitarist introduced him, the party took off without any looking back. From the very first song, party punks emerged from the pit to parade on stage, sing a long with Andrew, and then plummet into the crowd. That’s pretty much how the whole concert went off, although Andrew stopped the proceedings once to ask us if we wanted the next song to be about Halloween, or New York City. Unanimously, the crowd cheered for everyone’s favorite holiday, and the sweaty one revised the I GET WET favorite “I Love NYC” into “I Love Halloween.” I think that was probably the only difference in his show for this special holiday performance.

All of the criticism lobbed at AWK is valid. This isn’t revolutionary rock music. It’s more than a little hedonistic and self-absorbed. It’s abundantly stupid. But a community validation to party til you puke is more fun than 5000 radioheads preening at the idioteque.

After the Blue Note show, I drunkenly zigzagged a path to the Ragtag CinemaCafe’s Halloween party for performances by the Texas Chainsaw Mass Choir and Nightmare Sisters. Ragtag’s special holiday film, Rosemary’s Baby, was running a little late, and the band’s sets had to be rushed. While TCMC played, I bobbed for cigarette butts and beer bottles. At a certain point, I realized that Nightmare Sisters had started, so I ran to the front of the audience and proceeded to shake my terror with wild abandon and gleeful horror. Those TCMC flood lights were still on so it got pretty hot. I tried to take off my shirt, but it got stuck on my head and then I fell down. My friends made sure that I stayed down and helpfully held their hands on my head. I think I might have taken out at least one person’s legs. It’s all a little hazy now. I thought Nightmare Sisters were great, but by that time I was thinking more of my own evening’s performance, which ended as I awoke, standing in my living room with the light on, urinating on the wall and floor, unsure how I had arrived there. I love Halloween!

- Trip Maker