Currently listening to “Rise Above” by Black Flag off the album “Damaged.”
A guest rambling! Holy crap! Someone actually wants to write and be published on here! How cool is that?!? This was written by a good friend of mine and fellow music nerd who lives in Austin. I highly suggest that you give him a visit and read what he has!
12/5/2011
Cake. Who doesn’t like Cake? Fat kids love Cake, old people love Cake, Russians love Cake. Hell, I
know a guy that’ll do things for Cake that he should be ashamed of but he’s not (or is that blueberries?).
Either way, it should come as no surprise that when 101X hosted a concert at Stubbs in Austin, TX titled
Christmas with Cake I was more than a bit enticed to purchase tickets. Nick and I (the fellow addicted
to some sweet fruit) went back and forth on getting tickets not, mind you, because we weren’t fans of
Cake, but because we had just spent our hard earned money a few weeks ago on Modest Mouse tickets
(do yourself a favor, listen to Delirium) and were kind of feeling the holiday pinch in the pocket.
For those of you who don’t live in a city driven by a music scene, you can only imagine how quickly the
costs add up. It’s basically like having a drug problem; you’re always looking for the next best show,
bugging your friends to see if they want to go.
“Hey man, did you know the Protomen are coming to town? Yeah, yeah, they’re like, awesome and
shit…tickets are ten dollars. I’ll drive?”
And it’s always some obscure band you’ve only heard of twice but because you found a song you
enjoyed enough to download you automatically assume the concert has to be freaking awesome. In
every sense you have no clue how good this band is. You’ve done little to no research you’re just going
for the high, for the memory, to tell a story. You’re going so in the off chance you’re at some social
gathering you’ll be the guy who gets to say “Oh, Power Glove? Yeah, I saw them a few years back.
Music’s good. Concert wasn’t too impressive though.”
You’re teetering on the edge of becoming a music snob for groups you have little to no interest in (let
alone have really heard) and you should be ashamed.
Then again, it’s those underground bands that drive the music industry, is it not? Case in point, Nick and
I were all set to forego the Cake event when I was online reading and saw the posting in more detail.
101X presents Christmas with Cake! Doors at 7pm. Indoor after show with blah blah blah and UME…
Wait? Did I just read that correctly? I DID!
I was like a fat kid in cookie factory. Oooh muthafucking may (UME). I first came across UME one
evening when I was driving home from Buffalo Wild Wings after a fifty cent wing indulgent and
attempting to not fail intermediate algebra (again). Headed home I tuned to KUT and to my enjoyment,
UME was in the studio talking about their latest album and their background. One of the songs they
played was Pendulum. HOOKED!
I know what I’m about to say is probably going to cost me some credibility when it comes to music but I
have to get this off my chest…sigh…I’m a fan of chick bands.
There I said it. Fuck you.
I’ve been a fan of chick bands dating back to L7, Garbage…shit, I got my first music hard on when I saw
Joan Jett’s I Hate Myself for Loving You.
I’m just a chick band fan and when I saw UME was playing the after show I bought tickets, put a time
off request in for the day after the concert, slid my chair over to Nick’s and proclaimed with great
enthusiasm, “I’m going to see UME muthafucka! Oh, and Cake will be there too.”
A few weeks later, the concert date had arrived, and Mother Nature had decided to set conditions to
weed the weak from the seasoned (no pun intended). Austin Texas probably only gets cold two weeks
out of the year and those weeks are in no way shape or form consecutive. It can be 20 degrees on
Monday and 107 for the next six months. So when I woke up Sunday morning and saw it was still forty
degrees out and the Seattle drizzle hadn’t stopped since Friday night, I knew this concert was going to
be that much better. Hell, if I was lucky I was going to get to see some people get a little mud crazy,
right?
Ok, another confession. I’ve really only heard two or three songs from Cake. It’s not that I’m NOT a fan,
it’s just I’m not an avid follower. There are some bands out there that really appeal to our tastes, bands
we can really connect with and we become pretty dedicated dogs following our masters around begging
for treats. Cake is not one of those bands for me, so I didn’t follow them around begging for treats.
Now, when they released an album or a song, I probably listened to it, maybe even picked up a copy
here and there, but I wouldn’t say I was asshole deep in love with the group. Which is why this concert
(much like the Modest Mouse concert) was going to be a new experience for me. I’m the guy after the
memory.
We paid, we parked, we hiked to Stubbs and sought shelter inside where the bitter cold wasn’t punching
us in our parts. Hit up the bar, got a Guinness, and anxiously chatted with Savannah for a while
wondering if any one of these girls or guys bumping into us could be a member or knew a member of
UME. I was on a mission for a great memory.
Not long after, we were up stairs indulging in tasteless conversations about drunken nights and
embarrassing bodily functions when suddenly we hear music echoing from outside.
Oh, did I mention the Cake show was an outside venue? I told you, seasoned vs. weak.
We really didn’t pay much attention at first thinking we were only missing the opening band until the
next song played and Nick, in true character, informed us “Shit! That’s Cake.”
We paid our tab and headed outside amongst a crowd so thick it was almost an act of futility to find a
decent spot to see the stage let alone the band. Trudging through clouds of smoke of both kinds, and
mud puddles slick with chill and vengeance, we navigated our way to a spot by the sound board just
right of the stage; a perfect view of the lead singer, John McCrea, and a couple whom I’m sure ended up
having sex during one of Cake’s songs.
The area was covered and crowded. A heater full of the sun’s rage was beating down so viciously, by
standers cleared a large area underneath it to avoid cooking. I actually made the mistake of standing
under the damn thing too long that before it was over I was sporting just a tee shirt and 2nd degree
burns on my head (insert bald jokes here assholes).
Cake’s stage presence is a perfect mixture of talent and humanity as they set a tone for the event to be
calming with just a little bit of social angst.
Trumpeter Vince DiFiore leans back and fills his lungs with so much passion his cheeks seem to thin at
the stretch as soft subtle notes trickling like rain across a pond of mesmerized fans who are stunned by
the harmony infecting their emotions.
McCrea, positioned just in front of the mic like a professor to his pupils, prepares himself to educate
those less aware of what it’s like to have an experience. His constant approach to the stand is firm and
deliberate while he sings not to a far off special place but to the rows of people who’ve waited patiently
and anxiously in the unfamiliar cold and dampness to hear his preaching’s.
Slowly the tempo escalates as bassist Gabe Nelson and drummer Paulo Baldi sneak their ingredients to
the mix. Suddenly the lights are dropping and fading back in, a soft blue shadowed by pale white spots
of light swirling around the canopy.
With melodic almost alternatively-bluesy tunes sifting across the landscape, onlookers stretch their
necks and sway from side to side or hop up and down tossing their hands and fingers in the air to
showcase how invasive Cake’s music is to their personal selves.
John McCrea does a wonderful job of keeping the crowd engaged throughout the concert. Where some
performers just show up, play their songs and engage in small banter with the audience, McCrea divides
the crowd in two and instructs the left side to sing one part of a chorus in competition with the right
side of the audience singing a separate part of the chorus. Motioning for everybody to clap their hands
or sing louder McCrea’s stage presence is entertaining and not without a bit of venom in his bite which
was evident in a response to a guy who wouldn’t stop yelling while McCrea was talking.
“Shut the fuck up!” McCrea calmly boasts into his microphone while he’s explaining the rules of a tree
ceremony taking place. “I’ll stand up here and talk for another 25 minutes if you keep yelling like that. I
don’t give a fuck about you. Self-entitlement bullshit.”
How can you not appreciate a band whose lead singer has no qualms pissing off show goers in order to
maintain some degree of focus and control?
After Cake’s two impressively entertaining sets they bowed off stage and the crowd began chanting like
pissed off kids at a birthday party “MORE CAKE MORE CAKE”.
Without disappointment, McCrea and his band of talent spilled back on stage where he thanked us in
attendance for our support again (something you only hear once from most bands, he reiterated several
times – such an appreciative curmudgeon) and broke into an amazing rendition of Ozzy’s War Pigs,
followed by two other songs that maxed out the energy of the crowd.
Cake’s performance concluded, and people made their way either inside to the next show, or off to their
next adventure. If you ever get the opportunity to see Cake in concert, jump on it. You may not leave
the concert as a redefined individual but you walk away with a new admiration for the performers.
I know, you’re asking “What about UME and the rest of the local artists?”
Relax monkeys, I’ll get those updates to you soon enough. In the meantime stay fanatic fans.
Great stuff, Himo! Keep it up and we look forward to having you back here soon!
I have a pretty decent job and my pants still fit (which is a great way of saying that life is pretty damn good!)
