They bill themselves as “Formerly New Zealand's fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo accapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo,” and on their hit HBO show they play a pair of clueless New Zealand musicians struggling to make it in New York, yet, in an ironic twist, Flight of the Conchords have risen from their humble roots to become the unlikeliest of rock stars.
The Conchords are comprised of Jemaine Clement (the bespectacled one) and Bret McKenzie (the bearded one). Their EP The Distant Future won a 2008 Grammy for Best Comedy Album, and their eponymous Emmy-nominated HBO series recently returned for a (hilarious) second season after a more than yearlong absence due to the writer’s strike.
Success didn’t come overnight, however.
Clement, 35, and McKenzie, 32, were flatmates at Victoria University of Wellington, before forming Flight of the Conchords in 1998. They soon developed a cult following thanks to their spirited live performances, and in 2004, created a radio series for BBC Radio 2. The series was based on the band’s search for success in London, and in 2007, the setting was changed to New York and adapted into an American TV series for HBO.
Tonight the duo, who deftly utilize droll observations and acoustic guitars to craft hilarious, satirical ballads, will perform the first of two sold-out performances at New York City’s Radio City Music Hall. It’s one of the first performances on an extensive, sold-out amphitheatre tour of the U.S.
Kristen Schaal, who plays their crazed-yet-lovable lone fan/stalker Mel on the HBO show, opened the festivities, and it was a bit of a mixed bag. She would act out funny little plays she had written, and some bits were frankly weak, but she performed one hilarious dance in a yellow jumpsuit while being lifted by a roadie (an ode to the toxicity of Wall Street, she claimed). And her closing sketch, an audition for “Law & Order: SVU,” was awfully funny. She was being confronted by Dets. Stabler and Benson, and her part was to act like the 16-year-old high school friend of a girl who was brutally murdered (while holding an Entenmann’s cake). Once she hears the news, she proceeds to hysterically cry, while stuffing her face with handful after handful of cake, acting totally shocked and wiping the cake all over her face. It’s funnier when you see it. Trust.
Then, Kristen introduced the guys, and the duo emerged sporting boxy DIY robot helmets with red eyebrows/ears and antennae, and silver shirts, and went right into their recent hit, “Too Many Dicks on the Dancefloor.” The played mostly a selection of songs from upcoming sophomore album I Told You I Was Freaky (release date: TBD), most of which have also appeared in sketches on the second season of their HBO show. Jemaine and Bret really are outstanding parodists, and their songs employ witty, back-and-forth lyrics between the two (think: Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson) that imbue them with an improv-vibe. In addition, the songs have an earnestness about them that borders on the sentimental, yet never ceases to be terribly funny, as on “Albi The Racist Dragon” - an uproarious ode to… a racist dragon named Albi. Jemaine is definitely the funnier of the two, however, and his lines always get the lion’s share of the laughs. On their rap song “Hurt Feelings,” when Jemaine quips, “I feel like a prize asshole / No one even mentions my casserole,” it brings down the house. Other parody songs are so well-done that you could easily mistake them for actual ballads, like “Carol Brown” - an homage to Paul Simon’s tune “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover,” with Jemaine waxing not-so-poetic about his former flames.
Over the course of the evening, the employ a variety of instruments including: electronic keyboards, drums (courtesy of Bret), electronic keyboard, and, last but not least, the Omnichord. The guys were occasionally accompanied by a bearded cellist (who looked like an unemployed relative of Bret’s) who was introduced as “Nigel, the New Zealand Philharmonic Orchestra.”
It was a very raucous crowd on this rainy evening, with audience members repeatedly yelling platitudes and song recommendations to the duo, as their auds are accustomed to do. It got a bit much at times, especially the silly little girls seated behind me who kept shouting “O-M-G” (yes, the letters), but the guys took it in stride. When a particularly inebriated attendee yelled “FREEBIRD” at the top of his lungs, Jemaine coolly replied, “You asked for it… DICK!” And then launched into a silly, abbreviated version of the Lynyrd Skynyrd classic, before threatening that if any other people shouted out silly recommendations, they’d play the 20-minute version (in jest, of course).
One slip-up over the course of the evening was a rambling, 10-minute-long Johnny Cash-style country song called “Stana,” which overstayed its welcome. And it would have been nice if they played some more songs from their fantastic self-titled debut album, like “The Most Beautiful Girl (In the Room” or “Inner City Pressure.” I’m also a bit puzzled why they chose to omit recent hit “You Don’t Have to Be A Prostitute,” and didn’t have Schaal join them onstage for a ditty. A little bit more theatricality would go a long way too, e.g. recreating some of their infamous music videos for the stage. But oh well… It’s all good fun regardless.
They closed the set with a spirited, R&B rendition of “Sugalumps,” with Jemaine and Bret dancing along the stage, and Jemaine flexing his crotch to the single lay-day’s of the crowd like the nerdy Maori Mick Jagger that he is. And then the duo proceeded to return for not one but TWO encores, playing fan favorites: “Bowie,” “Robots” (also known as “Humans Are Dead”), and of course, “Business Time.” And, on the excellent “Business Time,” even though we all know that Wednesday night is the night Jemaine gets down, there was plenty of love (and laughs) to be had on this Tuesday evening... Infinitely more entertaining than his average Tuesday spent visiting his girlfriend’s mother.
--Marlow Stern [April 20, 2009]
