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Client Quotes
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Tenacious D
Growing up, I used to watch a children's show called The Magic Garden which, like Sid & Marty Krofft masterpieces such as Sigmund and the Sea Monsters and Land of the Lost, shared an affinity for horribly cheesy sets, embarrassing pastel outfits and a tenuous grasp of reality. The hosts were two hippie chicks who played bizarre folk songs on their acoustic guitars, communed with a "magic" oak tree which housed a talking squirrel and delivered wacky outfits to the girls so they could play dress-up. Every show they'd pay visit to the "chuckle patch," a bunch of plastic dandelions that would write jokes for the girls and then spaz out while laughing maniacally at their own punch lines. Needless to say, this show prepared me for my entire college career of marijuana and LSD intake. Looking back on it now, I'm not quite sure if those two women were really that psychotically shiny happy or just two pot smokin' honeys playing a big joke on all of our parents. Tenacious D also skirt this fine line between winking mockery and deadpan earnestness. Their songs, detailing their delusional rise to power in the music industry and the trials and triumphs of being "The Greatest Band in the World," are filled with some of the funniest and most ridiculous lyrics this side of rapper Sir Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back." But they belt it out with such bravado and heartfelt conviction that you sometimes forget it's all an act. Mounting the stage to the thundering applause usually reserved for monster truck rallies or a Doors cover band, it was quite evident that "The D" had the crowd in the palm of their sweaty hands from the get go and they gave the crowd exactly what they wanted. That is, Woody Guthrie by way of Spinal Tap tunes about smokin' hash, rockin' the house and suckin' on the toes of "backstage Bettys." With the absurdity of comedian Andy Kaufman, the vocal harmonies of Seals & Crofts and some straight-up awesome guitar playing, their acoustic folk rocked harder than any rap/metal band on the airwaves and was funnier than most any line-up of shows on Comedy Central. In addition to their own tunes, they performed a show-stopping cover of the original Spiderman theme song during which a horrendously costumed Spiderman and something that resembled the tin man from The Wizard of Oz (dubbed "Y2K Man") chased each other around the stage and battled with aerosol cans of "silly string" in a fight for world domination. The only criticism of the show I can muster is that their anti-acoustic songs somehow seemed a whole lot funnier on TV because they sang them with the demented fervor of performing "Live at Budokan," despite being in an empty café. Seeing them in a huge club packed tighter than a Times Square peep show during fleet week and with goons screaming out "We love the D!" every few minutes, the show kinda lost some of its initial charm. I guess I'll just have to get used to it, since a forthcoming album and movie due out next year will no doubt make them bigger than Weird Al Yankovic. I'm sure the next live show they do will be even more crowded than this Irving Plaza gig. If there is any justice (or irony) in this cruel world, it won't be long before Tenacious D are packing arenas and stadiums with expensive pyrotechnic displays, elaborate stage shows and an entire chorus line of Luscious D Go-Go Dancers. I even foresee them shedding their acoustic guitars someday and going electric, staging a mock sell-out uproar a la Bob Dylan when he plugged in at the Newport Folk Festival. It's all part of their rock'n'roll fantasy, so until then, try to catch them on tour or find a friend with HBO who can tape their shows for ya. Brian Farrelly
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