A few years ago an acoustic rock duo exploded onto HBO, sending rock and sexy mansweat spewing everywhere. Jack Black and Kyle Gass, united as Tenacious D, used hair metal as a weapon against evil, and a dangerously powerful aphrodisiac (how many power duos have no problem sucking on toes?).
Then, last year, a shot was fired across their overweight bow. Out of New Zealand, the 4th-ranked digi-folk parodists duo Flight of the Conchords proclaimed that looking like Andy Samberg and loving David Bowie makes you the nuts.
Now, for the first time anywhere, we who Wear Pants pit them against each other in the Thunderdome. "Two men enter, one man leaves."
The D: spawned from the pits of Hell and vomited upon this land in LA, where they play small clubs and fight about whether cock pushups make you ready to rawk.
Conchords: Fom New Zealand, which is awesome, because the only other things from New Zealand are Peter Jackson, hobbits, kiwis, and sheep. Lots of sheep. So it's fitting Brett & Jumaine moved to Brooklyn.
Advantage - The D, by a nose (New Zealand is cool, but Hell is hot.)
The D: jolly fat men who wear white socks pulled high. JB's hirsuteness (hirsute-ity?) makes up for Kyle's baby-like absence of hair. Like Donal Logue in The Tao of Steve, their girth does not prevent them from wooing the ladies.
Conchords: Andy Samberg, without the weirdly thick neck or Jewish nose. Hipster uniform, as required by Brooklyn residency statutes. Jumaine has fantastically thick lips, stretching from his chin almost up to his indie-rock plastic-framed glasses. Brett wears sweaters.
Advantage: The D, because you need extra calories if you're going to bring the rock. And because KG, if he lived in a place with snow, could pass as a snowman. He's a double scoop of vanilla on twin popsicle sticks.
The D: quality harmonies, and surprising range for the round mounds of sound. Add that to Jack's Dokken-esque roar, and they're pretty versatile.
Conchords: Jumaine can hit the lows and the highs, and Brett's just all over. Plus, there's the kiwi accent, and the Pants Wearer loves accents.
The D: focusing on the rock, they do what they do well. But beyond an occasional love ballad about the D and the double team, that's about it. Their secret weapon is Dave Grohl, who shows up to play drums. But this is a 2 on 2, so he doesn't count.
Conchords: From hip hop to folk to Marvin Gaye-esque protest ballads about love being like cellar tape, they can do it all. Plus, their Bowie in space is better than Bowie actually being in space. Dig that.
The D: The show was great, and had the benefit of great cameos, like John C. Reilly playing Sasquatch. Disadvantaged because their show was only 15 minutes long. Made up for it by making a movie, but it kinda sucked. The Pick of Destiny will forever sully the memory of the D on screen.
Conchords: haven't made a movie, but their show is amazing. Their support cast - manager, obsessed fan, random building guy - is also a whole lot better than the D's. Could not, however, exist or flourish without the D having blazed the trail before them.
The D: AKA Wonder Boy and Nastyman. How about the power of flight? That's levitation, homes. And killing a yak with mindbullets? Telekinesis, Kyle.
Conchords: Hip Hopapotamus and the Rhymenocerus. The Hip Hopapotamus - his lyrics are bottomless. The Rhymenocerus raps about reality, like there ain't not party like his Nana's tea party (hey, ho).
Advantage on powers: The D, in a blowout.
Advantage on hilarity: Conchords, because New Zealand sometimes trumps all.
The winner: There is no winner, because the Pants Wearer is many things, but sometimes being decisive is not one of them. So there you have it. A tie. If I had a sister this is what it would feel like to kiss her. But given the joy that both groups provide the world, aren't we really all winners?