The one musician Jack Black thinks will last 100 years
“He’s so real; he’s gonna be here in 100 years. Don’t you feel it?” – Jack Black
Jack Black has such a deep and visceral connection to music that it’s no wonder this trait bleeds into some of his most famous characters. In The Holiday, when Miles attempts to charm Amanda in Blockbuster by firing through some of his favourite movie soundtracks, it’s impossible not to think about that being a genuine passion stemming from Black’s real-life love for everything music.
Of course, several more glaring examples of Black’s love for music define some of his more major roles, like School of Rock, and the more literal crossover, Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny. And that’s not to mention the fact that the actor has crafted a distinctive career in music beyond his wildly successful acting career. But the point is, rather than see the two as separate identities, it feels like the two worlds have always blended together.
To the point where Black can pick up on the musical senses of others just by being in different places, like when he praised the atmosphere in England, saying, “People know their rock over there; there’s a lot of encyclopaedic knowledge and a lot more love.” But in the beginning, when projects like Tenacious D were all about coasting the line between genuine rock ‘n’ roll fascination and imitating rock’s most charismatic frontiers, Black was just having fun.
Taking notes from the likes of The Who and Led Zeppelin, Black just wanted to create music that made people feel joy. “If they can take me on a journey through the clouds,” he once told NPR. “I don’t have any real spirituality in my life; I’m kind of an atheist. But when music can take me to the highest heights, it’s almost like a spiritual feeling. It fills that void for me.”
Perhaps that’s why one of his favourite records of all time is Tom Waits’ Bad As Me, Waits’ no-skips affair that packed in emotion like it was going out of fashion, giving it the kind of insistent crackle of a flame that flickers in all sorts of intense directions, though each as enthralling as the next. For Black, all you need to know about everything Waits as a musician is in the first three tracks. But also, it seemed like it made the actor realise just how important Waits is, not just as a visionary but also a timeless figure.
“Those first three tracks are worth the price of admission,” he told The LA Times. “He’s so real; he’s gonna be here in 100 years. Don’t you feel it? Objectively speaking, can’t you look at some people and go, ‘100 years — still gonna be here?'” Although highly unpredictable in its twists and turns, Bad As Me represented the pinnacle of Waits’ capability as a musician, with thundering finesse and a vicious (yet confident) blend of various styles.
It makes sense, therefore, why it was the record that set off an epiphany for Black. One that he has only spotted in a handful of others, likely stretching to the more obvious of such an elite club, like Ozzy Osbourne. This feels especially poignant following his semi-amusing yet intricately heartfelt ode to the Prince of Darkness and his timeless classic, ‘Mr. Crowley’.
But Black’s radar for infinite legends also extends to players like Bob Dylan and, more specifically, Leonard Cohen. Black was a little late to the Cohen hype, but the moment he listened to Songs of Leonard Cohen, he felt the same inexplicable “100 years” chime go off, the same one that makes him certain people will still be discussing their brilliance long after their reign has ended.
