Lol at that photoshop.
Wow, 2 minutes in heaven with Jemaine for that fan. It is hard to tell what exactly the "lapdance" consisted of which is why we need video evidence of this sort of thing if it's not described in detail. You're so lucky to have had that experience, mock. Frontier Touring gallery of pics of this gig
FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS, ARJ BARKER
14 July, 2012
When it was announced that New Zealand’s Flight Of The Conchords would be touring Australia, there were mass cheers. Upon clocking the arena-style venues, bafflement set in. How could two lonely figures onstage brandishing guitars command such gargantuan-capacity venues? It’s in this headspace that we traverse the endless Plenary foyer tonight in search of Door 3.
Arj Barker (who plays Devjeet “Dave” Mohumbhai on the hit comedy series) is on the payroll for warm-up duties. Solo. His ramblings are endearing and you’ve simply got to see his Breaking Bad impression. Barker’s clearly chuffed to be touring with his buddies. We feel for him when he suffers a couple of coughing fits, but he recovers well and, when it’s time to introduce the stars of the show, our laughing gear’s well-lubed.
The familiar pumping beats of Too Many Dicks (On The Dancefloor) kick off proceedings and Flight Of The Conchords (aka Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement) take to the stage resembling DIY human-boombox speakers, faces poking through boxes on their heads. FOTC tunes are catchy and well executed live. Even without the comedic lyrical content you’d still dig listening to them. Clement’s singing-underwater effect is simply awesome and McKenzie plays a toy piano to great effect at various points throughout the evening, particularly poignant during Hurt Feelings. They are both accomplished musicians and the new, Wazinator-accompanied track f*** On The Ceiling calls to mind Franz Ferdinand. The way this two-piece uses dynamics in their guitar playing to portray emotion adds an extra dimension to the show. Of course their banter is hilarious (Clement refers to an elevator as a “magic cupboard”) and exercises our tear ducts the right way. Clement claims whales have an obesity problem and we all wish we could be present during initial workshops for lyrical content. Think About It contains a mega-funky riff. The New Zealand Symphony Orchestra is welcomed to the stage and turns out to be one extra multi-instrumentalist, Nigel Collins.
Flight Of The Conchords are not always laugh-out-loud funny, there are songs that would be more accurately defined as observational and smile inducing (Bus Driver’s Song). There are various aspects of this show where the LOLs come unexpectedly, like when the lighting operator is addressed directly to create effects that will further enhance atmosphere. Some of Clement’s directions, such as “medieval”, seem impossible to achieve. Remarkably, the resulting dappled hue perfectly suits this brief. The Summer Of 1353 could not be improved upon and the Pet Shop Boys-inspired Inner City Pressure would sound (almost) legitimate within a compilation of early-‘80s chart-toppers. Nothing could prepare one for Hiphopopotamus Vs Rhymenoceros (“They call me the Hiphopopotamus/Flows that glow like phosphorous/Poppin’ off the top of this oesophagus/Rockin’ this metropolis”) and tears stream down faces. Sometimes it seems as if Clement has a winning margin in the LOL count, but McKenzie’s innocently perplexed persona is oh-so lovable. Carol Brown, featuring a choir comprising “girlfriends of the past”, followed by Business Time results in collective sore cheeks from laughing. There’s a special surprise after the blackout during Bowie. Nup, I’m not spoiling it for those yet to be treated to FOTC live. Okay, here’s a hint: it’s all in the art of the unexpected costume change.
Encore song Back On The Road answers some of the questions raised from the duo’s banter tonight, which is a stroke of genius. Closer Sugalumps sees the pair prowling through the front rows, gyrating in the faces of unsuspecting patrons. Unbridled applause reflects satisfied customers. For a couple of dudes perched on stools to engage an audience of this size is no mean feat and, although they nail it, this scribe can’t help but wish to be seated inside the Palais instead. Oh, and please can Rhys Darby (who plays their band manager Murray Hewitt) come across the ditch as well next time?
Written by Bryget Chrisfield