Nearly half the song titles on Andrew W.K.'s debut contain the words "party," "love," or "puke" -- a sure sign that this is the best party metal the Eighties never gave us. Formerly a one-man show, W.K. built I Get Wet into a dual-ax, kick-drum assault chocked with shout-along choruses and just enough classic piano to cut the bite. I Get Wet is classic Kiss sans theatrics. Instead of painting his face, W.K. sounds like he stepped up to the Sennheiser after ten hours hanging Sheetrock. Stomping with Friday-night adrenalin, I Get Wet is a rock album honest in giving you the thumbs-up instead of the middle finger.