When “Robots,” a song about an android uprising told from the robots’ perspective, first arrived in 2008, it felt like a clever exercise in absurdist comedy. In the landscape of 2024, however, the lyrics have taken on a hauntingly literal quality. As Jemaine Clement and Brett McKenzie took the stage at Los Angeles’s Greek Theater on Saturday night, the song served as more than just a nostalgic opening; it was a timely commentary on the current state of artificial intelligence.
“Humans invented artificial intelligence, and then they had us doing really stupid shit with it,” Clement explained, staying in character as a frustrated robot over a steady beat. His bandmate, McKenzie, added the punchline that resonated with a crowd well-versed in the era of LLMs: “They gave us all the knowledge, deep learning, gave us the power to solve complex, scientific mathematical equations… Then just asked us questions like, ‘How do you cook an egg?’”
The performance marked the first of two shows this weekend as part of the Netflix Is a Joke festival, serving as the high-point of a brief concert run that spanned Wellington and California. For the New Zealand duo, this reunion represents their first U.S. Performances in eight years. While the night was peppered with reflections on the passage of time and an admission that the world has grown significantly more terrifying since their peak HBO fame, the concert functioned as a momentary, melodic antidote to that anxiety.
The enduring charm of the understated
Despite the long hiatus, Flight of the Conchords returned with the same deadpan wit and understated charm that defined their trajectory from BBC radio to the cult-classic HBO series that aired from 2007 to 2009. The chemistry between Clement and McKenzie remains effortless, transforming the 5,900-capacity outdoor venue into something that felt intimate and conversational.
The duo’s musicianship was on full display, as they cycled through guitars, bass, keyboards, flutes, and various digital gadgets. Notably, Clement’s stage presence revealed a vocal richness that often feels compressed on their studio recordings. While the evening wasn’t without its flaws—including a few lyrical stumbles and moments of genuine confusion over the words to their own songs—the band leaned into the imperfection, treating the errors as part of the comedy, much to the delight of the audience.
The setlist was a comprehensive tour of their greatest hits, blending the mundane with the surreal:
- “Business Time”: A meticulously awkward ode to a couple’s subpar weekly intimacy.
- “Bowie in Space”: A satirical take on the legendary David Bowie.
- “Carol Brown”: A reverse “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover,” where Clement lists the rhyming excuses his exes used to dump him.
- “The Most Elegant Girl (in the Room)”: A masterclass in the duo’s specific brand of romantic delusion.
The passage of time was a recurring theme. “We’re not really playing new songs, but they’re new to us, because we can’t remember them,” McKenzie joked, a sentiment echoed during an improvised solo in the 2008 track “Think About It.” When the chorus asked, “What is wrong with the world today?”, Clement lamented that the answer was “even worse than when we wrote this song.”
A reunion of the ‘Conchords’ universe
The evening felt like a family reunion, bolstered by the appearance of former castmates from their television era. Arj Barker, who played the band’s friend Dave, opened the night with a standup set, while Kristen Schaal (Mel, the obsessive fan) and Rhys Darby (Murray, the band’s long-suffering manager) made guest appearances that bridged the gap between the stage show and the sitcom.
In one highlight, Darby conducted a “raffle” for an onstage VIP experience. The winner, Schaal, was granted the “privilege” of touching both Clement and McKenzie for 30 seconds—a bit that played perfectly into the characters’ established dynamics. Adding to the sonic texture of the night was the “New Zealand Symphony Orchestra,” which, in typical Conchords fashion, consisted entirely of a single cellist named Nigel Collins.
The night also featured an unplanned guest: a large bug that landed in Clement’s hair. Rather than ignore it, the duo incorporated the insect into the show, with the bug appearing on the overhead screens. The ensuing improvisation saw the bug envisioned as an aspiring actor heading to Hollywood, only to eventually “go back to Ohio” to “teach drama.”
Finding cohesion in a fractured era
Beyond the gags and the music, there was a palpable sense of gratitude underlying the performance. As the duo prepared for their “considerable surprise”—an encore of “Hiphopopotamus vs Rhymenoceros” that followed a fake exit—they took a moment to address their relationship with the United States.
“We’d like to sincerely thank you for coming, but we find sincerity quite difficult, so we probably won’t do that,” Clement quipped. However, the humor eventually gave way to a genuine acknowledgment of their welcome in America. “America, you’ve been so incredibly welcoming to us, and we’re exceptionally grateful that you accepted some people from outside your country,” McKenzie said. Clement added a sharp, timely coda: “We’d probably be deported now.”
In an era defined by political polarization and digital isolation, the concert offered a rare sense of brief cohesion. For two hours, the Greek Theater wasn’t a venue in a divided city, but a shelter from the storm, held together by the shared language of New Zealand irony and the joy of a long-awaited return.
The duo is scheduled to perform their second Netflix Is a Joke festival show this weekend, concluding their brief but impactful return to the U.S. Stage.
Do you have a favorite Flight of the Conchords track or a memory from the HBO series? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
