Live: Brooklyn's Hedonistic Waffles & Tits Party Takes On Heavy Metal Parking Lot
Waffles & Tits, Brooklyn's traveling shit-show of a Sunday-afternoon party, is equal parts rock opera, Vaudeville revival, and Gathering of the Juggalos-esque debacle, mixing that classiest of breakfast foods with oft-classless live entertainment. For their third installment, they've adopted 1986's classic Heavy Metal Parking Lot as the theme; you kind of know what to expect when you Google a party to find the location (Williamsburg's House of Yes, as it happens) and immediately find a Craigslist post seeking go-go dancers. In fact, the '80s-metal theme seems to fit this party almost too well--it's tough to tell where the self-aware, costume-wearing silliness ends and some patrons' genuine out-of-touchness begins. In any event, some people wear pants, and some don't. It's that kinda afternoon.
The party has the air of a circus, with clowns and costumed workers roaming around amid tattoo artists (yes, they will ink a waffle on your breast for free). Dancers dance and strippers strip, but most revelers are content to get extremely, sloppily drunk while eating waffles. Lots of waffles. Musicians, comedians, and ostensibly comedic musicians pop on and offstage quickly: An insult comic dressed as a giant cigar plies his trade, while Southside Slim's cover of Motörhead's "Ace of Spades" is an early highlight. Not surprisingly, metal figures heavily in the mix, with various live bands offering acceptable Black Sabbath and AC/DC covers, while DJs supply less retro sets of newer dance and hip-hop cuts in between. It's quite a crowd for a Sunday afternoon in the middle of nowhere: Patrons range in age from their early twenties to late forties, all getting along just fine so long as there's booze enough for everyone, which there is, for a time.
It's hard to tell what happens spontaneously and what our "organizers" planned in advance. But who cares? After a few bands, we're shown a video involving a young girl whose pious mother brings her to the local priest because of her obsession with . . . waffles and tits, of course. The actors then appear live in front of us, beat the priest up, and throw him offstage. It's all a choreographed train wreck that's immensely fun to watch, like a dinner-theater version of I'm Still Here where everyone is Joaquin Phoenix. At one point while I'm chatting with host DJ Hill, he pauses and, pointing with one leather-gloved hand, issues orders to one of his cohorts: "You tell Clown to grab the fake blood and get up in that video booth NOW!" Then he calmly turns back to me, noting that "I find people listen to me more when I'm wearing this one leather glove. I may keep it." It will certainly help him stand out around here.