Kanye image via
Drew Millard misses the old Kanye.
Dude. Dude? Dude! DÜDE. DUDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE333EEEE. I don’t know how to tell you, so I’ll just tell you:
sEcReT kAnYe ShOw. secretkanyeshow. SECRETKANYESHOW!!!!!!
For real this time.
So check it, I heard about it because my roommate’s girlfriend’s little brother goes to Pratt with this kid who interns for the guy who gets coke for the guy Kanye pays to come up with all the Yeezy designs, so basically, Kanye told me himself. This. Is. For. Real. They’re all gonna be there. Kanye, Pusha T, Big Sean, Travis $cott, the “Panda” dude, Stinky Pete. Oh, he’s the new guy. Nobody’s really sure if he raps or produces or what, but lemme tell you, his album is gonna be sick.
You know that streetwear store on Roebling and Driggs? No, the other streetwear store on Roebling and Driggs. The one hidden inside the bodega that’s hidden inside the artisanal plumbing supply manufacturer hidden inside the Magic: The Gathering superstore. It’s that one where you got the custom Air Jordans with Billy Baldwin’s face on the soles, the ones I’m wearing right now. Well I hate to remind you, but you did let me borrow them. Okay, well you didn’t say anything when I took them, did you? How was I supposed to know you were passed out? Where I come from (Connecticut, or as my friends and I started calling it after we listened to YG once, “Bonnebtibut”), if someone waltzes up to me and takes the shoes off my feet after I’ve had three vintage Four Lokos, that is lending.
Anyways, there’s a door in the back of that place, and that’s where the show is.
Just a heads up, the door guy’s a goth. Wait, did I say goth? Sorry, I meant “ghoul.” He’s going to make you sign something to get in, NBD. Which, I should mention, stands for “Nonnegotiable Blood Donation.” Look, dude, do you want to see Kanye tonight or not? Because if you do, you’re going to have to commit to eternal damnation by signing your name in blood while the registrar of souls cackles loudly right into your ear. It’s cool, though—you get a plus-one.
Once you’re in, there’s going to be a series of trials before you get to the coat check. You know, like tests of mental acuity and wrestling minotaurs and stuff. Whatever you do, don’t grab him by the horns, he’ll just fling you into the wall. Here, take this amulet, it’ll make you into an even bigger minotaur if you say the word “Holocene” three times, so you should be able to kick that thing’s ass, no sweat. Also, the coat check is mandatory and costs thirty bucks.
Looks like Kanye’s gonna go on any time between midnight tonight and five a.m. the day after tomorrow. There aren’t any bathrooms there and the amulet only works once, so you might wanna go ahead and make a Duane Reade run and pick up a pack of adult diapers for you and your plus. And while you’re at it pick me up twelver of High Life and some condoms? The condoms are for hoarding the free water, which should run out around hour fourteen. The beer is for, well, it’s beer.
I’m getting kind of annoyed that you’re not as amped about this as I am. I know it’s gonna be worth it—Kanye(‘s designer’s coke dealer’s intern’s friend’s sister’s boyfriend, who is my roommate) told me so himself. Think of how many likes you’re gonna get on Instagram after I snap a pic of you and Kanye hoisting that damn minotaur’s head up like the triumphant and resourceful warriors you are! Oh, and take this string, too—you’ll need it to make your way back through the maze. Of course there’s a maze, silly! Everybody knows the whole point of a secret Kanye show is to keep all the uncool people out, and what better way to do that than with a ma—well, it’s more of a labyrinth, really.
Yay, Kanye! This is gonna be so cool!