Whenever I want to respond in the affirmative and say something to the effect of, “cool” or “gotcha” I’ll often say, “rock.” People then incorrectly complete the phrase they think I’m going for and say, “on.” It’s not “Rock on.” It’s just, “Rock.” That’s it. It’s from Sifl and Olly.
I’m always intrigued by entertainment that means a lot to a select group of people. There’s so called cult stuff like KISS, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Dr. Who, or Monty Python. But I think there’s a deeper level of cult stuff where the average person hasn’t heard of it. I put The State in that category, along with the radio work of Jean Shepherd. Some people swear by The Young Ones. I might even include Space Ghost Coast to Coast in that category. But there’s one show that I love that no one ever seems to talk about.
I lived in my fraternity house when I was a senior in college. Seniors usually move into collegetown and get an apartment. But I ended up “living in” and getting to know some guys that I might not have had the chance to. In the spring, Prince had a Mets game on every day. Sodano would come over and everyone would watch The Sopranos. But for Woz, Broder, ASR (pronounced “asser”) and me it was always Sifl and Olly.
Sifl and Olly was a sock puppet show on MTV in the late nineties. You didn’t read that wrong. It was a sock puppet show created by Liam Lynch (Fake Songs and the director of the Tenacious D movie). He and his friend Matt Crocco made all of these audio recordings and Lynch used sock puppets for a visual and Sifl and Olly was born. It was Mike Judge-ian in its straddling of the line between smart and stupid, though, – and this is not saying much – it was much smarter than Beavis and Butthead.
It was a pretty structured almost talkshow show. The titular characters would speak at a microphone in front of a green backdrop and greet the people at home, then take calls from listeners. They would have Rock Facts, have a word with Chester (the character pictured up top), and check in with the Precious Roy Shopping Network.
For its devotees, it was a perfectly beautifully absurd show that worked in its own world of logic and we loved it. Mention of the phrase “crescent fresh” nearly twenty years later will have us quoting the sketch in which a dreadlocked sock puppet tries to explain what the hell that phrase actually means.
If you know Sifl and Olly, you love it. If you don’t, you may suffer from the downside of the cult culture: without discovering it, it’s hard to appreciate why people love it so much.
Luckily there’s a thing called YouTube. There are full episodes on there (or just search “Sifl and Olly Chester” that’s enough). I hope you enjoy.
Rock.
