“Forty is the new 69!”
Standing onstage at the Knockdown Center in Queens, New York, wearing a powder blue suit and holding a tropical, umbrella-adorned drink, Eric Andre gazed out upon his kingdom. The comedian-television host-provocateur celebrated his 40th birthday on Saturday at a public party with roughly 3,200 people, a mix of ardent supporters and clout chasers there for the ‘gram.
Promotional material for the event promised “a bizarre circus of freaks, drunks, drug addicts, and Pilates instructors” while inviting attendees to “witness the funnyman’s midlife crisis.” The scene was actually even wackier, featuring Santa Clauses in attendance, pro wrestlers, and several people being guided around on leashes. (There were also fake 69 dollar bills with Andre’s face on them scattered around, with one side reading “Federal Stank Note,” and the other, “In Ranch We Trust.”) It was like stepping into a meme: You either got it or you didn’t, but either way, you were fully immersed. The overall vibe: Coachella for Adult Swim fans.
JPEGMAFIA performed the song “SCARING THE HOES” off his new album of the same name, keeping in line with both the overall theme of the evening and the sort of internet-speak that has made Andre a god to the terminally online. The party was randomcore come to life, a bonanza of stoned ideas meeting drunk energy. Imagine a 14-year-old’s idea of what they’d want their 40th birthday party to be: Ball pit? Check. Petting zoo? Yup. A halfpipe sponsored by Jimmy John’s? Of course. (Someone in the crowd held up a homemade sign reading “I’m too old for this shit,” and when it caught JPEGMAFIA’s attention, he responded with a knowing chuckle.)
If it was overstimulating the audience, it seemed genuinely cathartic for Andre. As anyone who’s seen his work knows, he does everything to the extreme. Onstage with his boisterous karaoke band, somewhere in between slurring renditions of “Kiss from a Rose” and “Since U Been Gone,” Andre got earnest in his own unique way and talked about how he wasn’t able to do anything like this for his last three birthdays because of the pandemic. (“I haven’t had a birthday party since my quinceañera!”) He encouraged everyone to stick around until the venue kicked them out at 4 am and then join him at his Red Hook apartment to smoke Newports until the sun came up.
That sincerity did not carry over to the loose stand-up routine that followed, as he riffed on everything from Ice Spice to the G train. But when someone next to me yelled “show your dick,” he did not oblige. Maybe that was the newfound maturity that comes with turning 40. Maybe he’s not interested in doing full nudity anymore. Or maybe he just didn’t hear her, because later in the night, long after I had bailed, he apparently did take his pants off.