On the Wings of Parody

Creating enduring musical comedy—or humorous
music—stands as one of the entertainment industry’s most
difficult feats. How many such albums have you bought, only to
shelve/discard them after one or two listens? So when an act comes
along that can execute this delicate dance of wit and musicality with
durability, respect must be paid. Major props, then, to New Zealand duo
Flight of the Conchords, who have followed their hilarious self-titled
Sub Pop debut with another consistent, albeit less quoteworthy,
smile-bringer, I Told You I Was Freaky (also on Sub Pop).

The key to FOTC’s charm is their understated manner (a noble British
Commonwealth comedic tradition) and their keen understanding of many
musical genres’ sonic and lyrical foibles. You never sense that
guitarists/vocalists Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement are
mean-spirited; rather, they typically show an affection for their
subjects, but pinpoint their ridiculousness and then slightly
exaggerate their traits to somehow increase your initial
appreciation of them. It’s a neat trick that they repeatedly pull off.
These humorists know that few things are more risible than sincerity,
and their mock-sincerity is damn near unparalleled.

FOTC’s facile diversity reveals serious instrumental and
compositional skills, even if the songs come swathed in scare quotes.
The predominant approach is a funky, R&B-ish folk, with further
tweakings of reggae, ’70s hard rock, electro, and other niches. These
stylistic chameleons can also rhyme like beasts, excelling at deflating
the bravado of R&B lovermen and tough-guy MCs. Case in point:
Freaky‘s opener, “Hurt Feelings,” which gets all emo on behalf
of ostensibly invincible rappers everywhere. “Sugalumps” reverses roles
with that similarly titled Black Eyed Peas hit, with
pitch-­perfect, pristine, glittery electro and a guffaw-inducing
guest rap from Arj Barker. “Too Many Dicks (on the Dance Floor)” and
“Fashion Is Danger” are late to the electroclash backlash, but the
three orchestral-pop numbers at disc’s end impress with intricate vocal
arrangements, sophisticated melodies, and subtle pokes at a pious
subgenre.

Few things age faster than novelty music, but FOTC have found a way
to give their sonic parodies a longer-than-average shelf life.
Sincerely.