- Music
- 07 May 24
The American rock comedy duo deliver a raucous Sunday night performance at the 3Arena.
By evening’s end, the capacity crowd – I’ve never witnessed the 3Arena as rammed, I mean it’s heaving – are hailing The Pick of Destiny as Tenacious D dynamo, Jack Black holds aloft what would ordinarily be a simple guitar pick - and then they sing along deliriously in high pitched falsetto to ‘Fuck Her Gently’. It’s extraordinary stuff, but then it’s been a far from ordinary night. Minutes earlier, ‘Master Exploder’ had cued utter delirium – countless barebacked men in bromance huddles, thousands of Dio rock and roll salutes and rabid howling packs of maniacal fans.
To be honest, they didn’t require much encouragement, from the off, they were roaring out the words to gig opener ‘Kickapoo’ - Jack Black donned in tie-dye T-shirt, shorts and fine mutton chops, his compadre Kyle Gass in resplendent white beard and Macs Sporting Goods tee - both bouncing and pounding about the stage. At song’s end, they bow deep in appreciation, the mob chanting D, D, D, D, D, D, D, D, D, D!
Into ‘Low Hanging Fruit’ they march, before a hilarious rendition of Lizzy’s ‘Jailbreak’, Black declaring "I’m too old for this shit", demanding a break, lying down on the ground, Gass pointing at him singing, “some of us won’t survive”, Black suddenly resurrecting, stomping about, goose-stepping kung fu kicks.
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Introducing ‘Rise of the Fenix’, Black’s question - if we have seen Tenacious D in: The Pick of Destiny – is greeted with shouts of affirmation, he chides “but not in the cinema”, self-deprecating the fact that it was a box-office bomb, but little matter, the subsequent tour played to packed-out arenas such as this one and the band have been doing so ever since. Indeed, the current escapade, the brilliantly titled The Spicy Meatball Tour has been prowling the globe since May 2023 and hundreds of thousands of people are eating it up. Back-to-back renditions of ‘Wonderboy’ and the mammoth hit ‘Tribute’, have the delirious audience even singing along to the power riffs! Hell, they even make a decent shot at the yodeling middle eight, worshipping now to a giant goat-devil effigy that has magically grown up behind the band.
The D take it up a notch – a giant metal man chases them around the stage, in an utter pantomime caper that has grown men shrieking like toddlers and yelling out –"You can't kill the Metal/The Metal will live on/ Punk Rock tried to kill the Metal/ But they failed, as they were smite to the ground/New Wave tried to kill the Metal/But they failed, as they were stricken down to the ground/ Grunge tried to kill the Metal/ Ha-ha-ha-ha/ They failed, as they were thrown to the ground".
Kyle and Jack line dance with The Metal Man, before clutching and playing ridiculous giant plastic saxophones, miming to Gerry Rafferty’s ‘Baker St.’ The caper continues with Black performing a faux pampered rock and roll star, prima donna meltdown, his roadie playing along gamely. They play ‘Roadie’ itself, obviously –"No, I am the roadie / Lonesome warrior searching for his soul/ No, I am the roadie/ I make the rock go".
Building up to ‘Dude (I Totally Miss You)’, Kyle and Jack fall out, Kyle quits the band, exits stage left, before being serenaded back – the crowd absolutely delighted – all to a backdrop of Gass and Black gamboling in the waves in Victorian-era bathing suits – segueing into Chris Isaak’s ‘Wicked Game’, Black’s guttural baritone a thing of beauty, but there is no time to marvel – lead guitarist John Konesky is possessed by Satan, power riffing through the death metal of ‘Beezleboss (The Final Showdown)’. He must be saved, before he, bassist John Spiker and drummer Scott Seiver perform splendid solos, then the soundman’s solo, the lighting engineer’s solo, I’m not making this up, how could you? All followed by Blacks ‘solo’ - singing U2’s ‘Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of’ - without a hint of irony, okay perhaps with just a pinch. Then we all chorus ‘The Spicy Meatball Song’ to the Superman theme tune and the much-anticipated-huge-bomb-pyro is delivered in majestic fashion. The band receive raucous applause and ten thousand guttural voices chant D, D, D, D, D, D, D, D, D, D!