Gass and Black write it, play it for Satan and survive, but both promptly forget the tune. On "Tribute" they told the story of the night the Devil threatened to steal their souls if they didn't write the greatest song in the world. The D find a dozen different tongue-in-cheek ways to dress up their incompetence as genius. When they want to rock your socks off they aren't coy about it - they write a song called "Rock Your Socks Off." It provoked a hail of footwear from the audience on Saturday night. Actually, their music will sound familiar to anyone who's ever heard the acoustic preamble to any of dozen Led Zeppelin songs.Īnd lyric-wise, there isn't a rock cliche that the D won't revisit, whether it's the trials of the road, or the difficulty of getting a record deal, or the proper treatment of groupies. The running joke of Tenacious D is that Black and Gass write remorselessly derivative songs that are sold as once-in-a-lifetime breakthroughs in the history of pop. The answer is that you get comedy, some of it actually entertaining, some of it just frat-boyishly lewd. Together, Black and Gass pose an interesting musical question: What happens when you explore the outer limits of rock-and-roll bombast without the talent to actually get anywhere close to those limits? The nearly nuclear power of rock is a favorite topic of Tenacious D, the team of Black - whom you might recall as the maniacally pedantic record store clerk in "High Fidelity" - and Kyle Gass, a portly backup singer-guitarist-comic foil who has the plain, bland looks of a corporate middle manager. That's why right after this tour we're heading to the Middle East," apparently to vaporize our enemies with butt-kicking melodies. "America needs the D more than ever," said Jack Black, the yakkier half of this yakky duo, early in their Saturday night set at the 9:30 club. But Tenacious D can, at minimum, distract America, or at least distract a few hundred Americans at a time.Īnd better yet, they are willing to give the whole healing thing a shot, even if the effort is doomed from the start. What will it take to heal America? How about a pair of orotund, acoustic-guitar-strumming schlubs who sing leeringly about "kielbasa sausage" and are firmly convinced that they are the greatest band in history?
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