Almost all comedy albums are subject to the "One-Half Rule:" half the tracks are obnoxious or just plain terrible. For evidence, just look at Weird Al's career. This rule, however, somehow doesn't apply to Flight of the Conchords and its latest album, "I Told You I Was Freaky" (2009).
It may be the quaint New Zealand accents or the lack of gimmicky guest stars that keep this album from getting too obnoxious too quickly, but I think that the real secret is the comedic timing of the Conchords duo, Bret McKenzie and Jermaine Clement.
On tracks like "Hurt Feelings," or the impeccable "Rambling Through the Avenues of Time," the dynamic between McKenzie and Clement is so well balanced that the comedy feels natural and organic a kind of studied replication of their live act. This is a major reason why the album doesn't feel stale or contrived, even after a few listens.
Another way "I Told You I Was Freaky" avoids being gratingly annoying is that, unlike comedic brethren Tenacious D or The Lonely Island, Flight of the Conchords doesn't constantly resort to cheap gross-out lyrics to get laughs.
Certainly, they drop a lewd line or two, and the subject matter of some songs testicles, cannibalism and copulating angels, to name a few may seem crass.
Inane wordplay, however, rather than shock gags is game for these two. McKenzie and Clement use language in a manner that is almost surreal.
They rhyme their lyrics just for the sake of rhyming. Everything becomes a double entendre. A great example of this is the riff-rocker "Demon Woman," with lines like, "you're curdling my milk" and "you're scaring my livestock."
The variety of genres and musical styles McKenzie and Clement explore also keeps "I Told You I Was Freaky" fresh over its 34-minute runtime.
There's Madonna-style electro-pop ("Fashion is Danger"), children's a cappella ("Friends"), pseudo-R. Kelly rhythm-and-blues ("We're Both in Love with a Sexy Lady") and even a Russian sea shanty ("Petrov, Yelyena and Me").
By mixing it up, there's much less of a trite white-boys-rapping-aren't-we-funny-and-ironic feeling about the hip-hop tracks.
One of the best songs is a hilariously meta, high-concept number called "Carol Brown." Clement tries to woo the listener over the course of the tune, explaining the specifics of his past heartbreaks as he goes.
All of a sudden, a chorus of ex-girlfriends comes in, undermining him and enumerating his flaws. A call-and-response type argument ensues, without ever breaking the feel of the song.
The Conchords' folk guitar sound, something that defined the group's original work, has been downplayed significantly on this album.
Only on about a quarter of the songs have audible acoustic guitar, if any at all.
Almost as if to make up for this fact, the album liner notes include chord charts over the lyrics ostensibly so that the musically inclined Conchords fan can recreate that folky sound at home.
There is a rather large problem with "I Told You I Was Freaky," though: It is not new material. Each of the 13 songs comes from the second season of HBO's "Flight of the Conchords" series, and 10 of them have already been released as singles on iTunes.
The album release, as good and funny as it is, seems a little redundant.
Still, the songs are strong and clever enough, which nearly makes up for the fact that there seems to be no real reason to have made the record.
A great testament to the quality of the songwriting is that even without video accompanying the tracks, the songs hold their own.
There are few empty moments that require a visual joke or kick to keep the listener's interest. Even the weakest of the tunes "Fashion is Danger" and the title track are relatively fun listens.
In short, this is a good comedy album with some very funny material some songs funnier than others, but that's inevitable.
If you're unfamiliar with Flight of the Conchords, "I Told You I Was Freaky" is a great way to introduce yourself to their particular brand of humor.