45. Tenacious D – Tenacious D
What opened my eyes to the glory that is the Satan-fueled power-rock duo known as Tenacious D, was first catching the video for their single “Tribute” one summer on MTV.
In it, these two overweight wannabe rockers (Jack Black & Kyle Gas) crammed themselves into a mall’s karaoke booth, rigged it into a recording studio and sung about an impromptu jam they once wrote that just so happened to be the best song in the world. Granted, they couldn’t exactly remember how it went, but that didn’t matter—this was a tribute. And really, “greatest and best song in the world”? That was just a matter of opinion, anyway.
Needless to say, after discovering this treasure the D became my new favorite thing. I bought their album, ate up concert videos and their short-lived HBO sitcom from which most of the material on the CD originated, became well versed in all things Jack Black and, honestly—no joke—began seeing rock music a little differently.
You see, “Tribute” isn’t the only piece in the D’s illustrious canon that’s commemorating something. Their whole debut album, every track, it’s as much a love letter to Dio, Maiden, Sabbath and the self-important, animalistic, bombastic life of rock n’ roll as it is a mockery of those things. “Kielbasa” and “Double Team” are about sex and how good (and uninhibited) sex can be with rock stars; “The Road” is the obligatory woes-of-touring track; “Kyle Quit the Band” covers inter-band rivalries and casts Black as the abusive and temperamental lead; “Explosivo” makes little to no sense but starts with an a cappella number about weed then erupts into directionless ass-kicking; “Fuck Her Gently” shows off the guys’ softer side; and then there’s “City Hall,” the social reform epic.
It’s all here: Drugs, Sex, and obscene amounts of Rock n’ Roll. There’s even a jab at the soulless state of modern radio in “One Note Song,” where Jack excitedly calls Kyle in to listen a tune he just wrote that consists of nothing more than steady monotone plucks on the same string–except with “bendies” thrown in every 3 or 4 plucks to liven things up.
“But it’s one note,” Kyle deadpans. “Anybody could’a wrote it.”
“But guess who did write it,” Black fires back. “Me, baby. Me!”
Utterly brilliant.
What transforms Jack and Kyle’s “effort” into “opus” here is, aside from the fact that it’s hilarious and completely observant of its genre, these guys really do have serious talent. “If Kyle’s fingers be silver, Jack’s voice, then, be gold”—and really, seriously, they both are. Kyle Gas is as adept a guitarist as they come in any band—folk-parody duo or otherwise; and Jack Black can really, really sing. Then for good measure they throw Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters, Nivana) on the drums, and what we get is an album that works on a surprising amount of levels*.
*Try not to sing along to “Rock Your Socks;” try not to bang your head to “Explosivo;” try not to at least giggle to “Friendship Test,” when Jack sheepishly tells Kyle that he loves him, only to shy away and pretend that it was a only test when Kyle doesn’t reciprocate. “Whoa-ho-HO, man!” he laughs, “Wh-wha-what happened before, when I said I love you—that was a test. …Because, man, I could’a made a total ass of myself!”
These are a couple of guys who truly do love and revere rock music, but they have sense of humor enough to acknowledge the big joke of it all, and enough talent to squeeze a small place for themselves inside its canon. Sure, they could lose a few pounds and add some *actual* sex appeal to their dynamic—but then the jokes wouldn’t be half as funny. Relentless self-aggrandizing hits hardest when you’re bald and out of shape, climbing onto an Open Mic Night stage to shred on the ax and point out in the crowd all of the possible “Backstage Betties” you’re considering hooking up with after the show.
When I was initially structuring my Top 50, it didn’t immediately occur to me to include the D’s 21-track masterwork. I mean, it isn’t even really an “album” in the traditional sense of the word. It’s an album in as much as something like “The Jerky Boys” or Adam Sandler’s “What the Hell Happened to Me!” are albums—more comedy than music. So where’s the line? Then it struck me: “album” or not, the D, and “What the Happened to Me!”, equally cracked me up at different stages of my life (remember the talking goat sketch? And of course the old cockn’balls standby.). And just as much as any of my other picks, they’re both completely steeped in context. I remember when I was little I would only listen to Adam Sandler albums when my parents weren’t around, with the volume turned low at sleepovers or when they’d leave for groceries or walks. And when I was dating my first girlfriend, for months I was embarrassed to rock the D in front of her. But what it really comes down to here is that Jack and Kyle took a gimmick and mastered it: the loser rock gods, the fat guys strapped with acoustic guitars, thanking Ronnie James Dio for all he’s taught them, then announcing that he’s “too old to rock” and that it’s time he gave his “cape and scepter” to their new rightful owners. I can never stop loving that.
In The Pick of Destiny, Tenacious D’s origin story and biopic, Jack Black makes a guy’s head explode from the sheer, raw power of his rock. Then he apologizes, seamlessly turning it into the very next verse in his and Kyle’s song.
Nonchalant and unsympathetic, he sings:
“Sorry
I did not mean to blow your mind
But that shit happens to me all the time.”
If you can find me a more unabashedly rock n’ roll lyric in anything in the history of rock n’ roll, good God… no doubt, my head will be next.
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This entry was posted on Friday, July 9th, 2010 at 12:04 pm and is filed under cd reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
