Supafloss, a “white boy” rap duo discovered by The D, opened the show, sounding something like early Beastie Boys. Seasoned actors Michael Rivkin (Grotzy Redoodyhouse) and Kirk Ward (Mister Twister), took turns stomping all over the stage. Rivkin, who met Black in college, kept the beat strong while Ward, donning a pink tie and matching pink socks, pounded out tough lyrics with a serious rant.
Next came Neil Hamburger, a retro-looking, dive comic with a greased comb-over, big glasses and an arm full of cocktails. Hamburger’s jokes were raunchy and vile, eliciting more contempt from the crowd than applause (save for the numerous times when he tried to rescue the act by pretending to introduce the The D, presumably waiting on deck).
The stage darkened and opened in a living room set, decorated like an apartment I once rented in Isla Vista: old couches with torn upholstery, a fridge covered with bumper stickers, a poster of old-school metaler’s, Dio, and a keg. With a rustle under the blanket covering the couch, out popped Jack Black and Kyle Gass, who picked up their acoustic guitars and started the show.
Black’s ability to communicate the emotions behind his irreverent, colloquial lyrics is evidently bolstered by his seasoned history as an actor. The stage was definitely his living room (no pun intended). He and Kyle busted out song after crowd-pleasing song into what turned into more of a heavy metal, rock opera than a traditional concert.
