CAKE AT THE BRITT FESTIVAL

Julie and I escaped our two babies tonight and caught our first concert since we became parents: Cake.

Twelve years ago, my friend Sam handed me a Cake CD called “Motorcade of Generosity” and asked me to write a review of it for a music magazine he was editing. I popped in the disc and “Comanche” played. It featured a Spanish sounding guitar line, trumpet, and a chanted nonsense bridge. Another track featured an autoharp. Pair all that with John McCrea’s ironic deadpan vocals, and I was hooked. It was like nothing else out at the time.

A few months later, Sam (giver of all music swag… back then, anyway) got me onto the guest list to a Cake show. The show was even better than the album and vaulted to the top of my “best concert ever” list. (Portishead, Elvis Costello, and Radiohead would later occupy the top spot.)

But after “Fashion Nuggett,” I sort of fell out of touch with the band. I hadn’t bought a Cake album in a decade. Buying tickets to this concert was sort of like arranging a meeting with a long-estranged ex-girlfriend. Will I still find her attractive? Will we have anything in common?

Turns out, I had nothing to worry about, Cake and I were able to take up right where we left off. They’ve been through several lineup changes in the last ten years, but they’re still pretty tight live.

Of course, they weren’t always completely tight. They casually walked onto the stage and launched into a rather sloppy version of “Frank Sanatra.” But things quickly picked up with much better versions of “Italian Leather Sofa” and, yes, “Comanche.” They also played a touching tribute to the late Buck Owens by covering, “Excuse me, I think I’ve got a heartache.” Cake sounded good, but I can’t help but think how much better they would have sounded with this guy as their drummer. (You really blew it, guys)

Back in the day, Cake would ask trivia questions of the audience in exchange for t-shirts and other merchandise. No such luck this time around. The closest thing came when McCrea asked the audience to identify the type of pine tree that surrounded the outdoor venue.

My only complaint about the evening (except for the exclusion of “I Will Survive” on the setlist) is the length of Friday night’s set. Cake took the stage just before 9, and was launching into the encores by 10. 13 years, 5 albums, come on guys, you can string together something longer than a one hour set.

Also of note was the opening band tonight. “Los Abandoned” played a mix of pop and punk in a mix of English and Spanish. Great songs, great energy, great fun. They made me desperately homesick for LA. If you get the chance to see them, you should.

(We now return you to the regularly scheduled batch of baby pictures.)