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  • Evan Laslo

I Can’t Get Jack Black’s Music Out of My Head, by GraciAnn Hicks

Almost two months ago, my life was changed forever.

Outside of his movie School of Rock, not many people know about Jack Black’s music career. I learned recently that he accounts for half of the comedy rock duo Tenacious D after I was shown an unforgettable video: Fligugigu 10 hours.

The looping video features Jack dressed in a short-sleeve plaid shirt with the buttons undone to reveal his bare chest as he sings the freestyle, scat-like vocals “fligugigu” and dances at a terrifying demon character.

Take a second. Reread that sentence. It’s even more disorienting in video form.

I thought that it was fake. A meme. An edit. I grappled desperately for a rational explanation as I watched the 9 second clip repeat over and over and over. Minutes passed; the loop continued. Baffled, stunned, mesmerized, all I could do was continue watching.

As I snapped out of my trance, I used my superb detective skills (AKA YouTube searching “Jack Black music”) to find the original video. The clip comes from a Tenacious D song named Tribute.

The bizarre song details how Jack and bandmate Kyle Gass wrote “the greatest song in the world” to win a battle with a demon and save their souls. As all musicians know, if you don’t record or write a song down, you will forget it. Tenacious D experienced this phenomenon with the song from their battle. “Tribute,” therefore, is not the greatest song in the world, but only a recount of the experience.

The full-length video only left me with more questions. I watched our intrepid troubadours defeat a demon only for the twist ending to give me whiplash. For a song as old as me, the poor quality video production adds to the story’s charm.

To my disappointment, the song unironically rocks. The harmonies mesh well, the guitar solo creates a fabulous high-point, and the a cappella scat section adds a unique layer to the track.

And now, “fligugigu” haunts me. During the night, long after everyone else is asleep, it plays on repeat in my head. As I try to go about my day and complete mundane tasks of grocery shopping or washing dishes, “fligugigu” crawls out of the dark corners of my mind. I always feel its presence. Jack Black has cursed me. He permanently owns the portion of my brain that is dedicated to “fligugigu.”

Jack Black, who are you? A sorcerer? A demon? A collection of stardust older than our planet? My questions may forever go unanswered, and when forever ends, only “fligugigu” will remain.

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