Musical-comedy duo Flight of the Conchords didn’t care that several fans in the front row had brought small children to their sold-out gig at San Diego State: nothing was going to stop them from boasting scandalous stories of backstage excess. Among the dressing-room indulgences, they owned up to “drugs — cold and flu drugs.”
Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement may have been deadpanning their rock ’n’ roll lifestyle, but the story was true — barely able to speak, much less sing, McKenzie could do little more than sip tea during the latter half of their show in an attempt to salvage what was left of his voice, which thanks to a cold had flown away like the ocean bird he had mimicked earlier in the evening during a new song, “Seagull.”
Still, McKenzie’s bad fortune actually carried unexpected comedic value, as his deep, husky attempts to impersonate female characters gave new life to favorites like “Foux du Fafa” and the set-ending “1353 (Woo A Lady).” And while fans in Arizona might wish he hadn’t tried so hard to leave it all on the CalCoast stage — the band ended up postponing its scheduled stop in Phoenix the following night — San Diego appreciated the effort, sending the duo offstage with a raucous ovation once it had bid the crowd a hearty yet hoarse “Au Revoir.”
Musical-comedy duo Flight of the Conchords didn’t care that several fans in the front row had brought small children to their sold-out gig at San Diego State: nothing was going to stop them from boasting scandalous stories of backstage excess. Among the dressing-room indulgences, they owned up to “drugs — cold and flu drugs.”
Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement may have been deadpanning their rock ’n’ roll lifestyle, but the story was true — barely able to speak, much less sing, McKenzie could do little more than sip tea during the latter half of their show in an attempt to salvage what was left of his voice, which thanks to a cold had flown away like the ocean bird he had mimicked earlier in the evening during a new song, “Seagull.”
Still, McKenzie’s bad fortune actually carried unexpected comedic value, as his deep, husky attempts to impersonate female characters gave new life to favorites like “Foux du Fafa” and the set-ending “1353 (Woo A Lady).” And while fans in Arizona might wish he hadn’t tried so hard to leave it all on the CalCoast stage — the band ended up postponing its scheduled stop in Phoenix the following night — San Diego appreciated the effort, sending the duo offstage with a raucous ovation once it had bid the crowd a hearty yet hoarse “Au Revoir.”