You, Me and the D

“That guy is fat. This rocks! I’m fat!” And with that, the dude sitting behind us at tonight’s Tenacious D show explained in the most succinct way possible just why the two dumpy guys hammering away at guitars on stage were able to fill a good chunk of a large arena at rock star prices (over $60 per ticket after Ticketbastard’s ass-raping surcharges). It’s not because one of them, Jack Black (a.k.a. “JB” and “Jables”) is a Hollywood star, their albums are hilarious skit-laden odes to capital-R ROCK at its most hedonistic and self-obsessed, or that the act comes wrapped in a Kevin Smith-flavoured foul-mouthed, pot-smoking, pop-culture referencing package.
Rather, it’s what’s embodied by fat guy Kyle Gass (a.k.a. “KG” and “Kage”), the other member of “The D” – a very round, bald 40-something-year-old guy wearing white socks with flip-flops, whose punch-line look provides the counter-point to the catchy, monster riffage (and I can’t think of a more perfect word than “riffage”) rattling out of his acoustic.
Y’see actors Johnny Depp and Keanu Reeves had (have?) bands that toured, but they played clubs; Weird Al just released his highest debuting spoof album ever, and has 25 years of material to draw upon, but doesn’t get these kind of crowds, and Spinal Tap also had their own movie (two, in fact), but they never drew this large a throng on their own. The celebrity, the comedy, the vertical integration – all of these things help, but in the end Tenacious D says they’re gonna rock, and then they rock. The songs are outrageous but also very catchy and tightly executed. In other words, the duo isn’t simply playing fucking rock songs about rocking – they’re playing fucking rock songs about rocking… that fucking rock.
The result is a stadium full of people singing along to “Tribute,” holding up lighters for “Wonder Boy” and “Fuck Her Gently” and watching fans in the front rows strike up a mosh pit for “Master Exploder,” then later throw socks onstage in deference to “Rock Your Socks.”
Tonight, The D rocked our socks off, rocked the house, rocked out and indulged in all sorts of other rock clichés, but indulged in them well. JB and KG overcame ridiculous ticket prices, some rather lame gags involving a buddy (“Lee,” who they sung the song of the same name about) coming over to their apartment and accidentally electrocuting them, and their own near-novelty-act nature.
The show followed a loose narrative where, after said electrocution, they duo goes to hell, where they form a band with Colonel Sanders, Charlie Chaplin and Satan’s son, who happens to look exactly like Jesus but can play a mean guitar. They eventually challenge Satan himself to a rock-off in order to win back their lives and souls. Oh yeah, and at one point a dude in a magic mushroom costume dances around stage while the band sings about Sasquatch – content from Tenacious D: The Pick of Destiny. In true rock show fashion, this caused just one of many pot clouds to erupt in the Ricoh Coliseum.
After the show, we checked out the reasonably-priced merch. I was tempted by a blue hoodie with a sports logo on the front for the “Cleveland Steamers” and a “Tenacious 666” on the back, but Alana reminded me of my raging hoodie surplus, so I went with a gray long-sleeve. Luckily, they had the only size that’s long enough for my arms: XXL. In fact, the only size they had left of anything at that point was XXL, which was probably just perfect for that guy who was sitting behind us.
The D rocks, Ticketmaster sucks, and this is just a tribute – ya gotta believe me…