Cake’s first South Florida appearance in more than eight years was, for better or worse, something of an anti-rock concert. The instrumental showmanship, the stage pyrotechnics (literal or symbolic), the indefatigable energy—in short, the spectacle—of the tried-and-true rock show were all in short supply on a breezy, moonlit Monday night in Pompano Beach.
The show’s pace was downright leisurely, with an intermission after only about 40 minutes of music, and a set list that ran just 16 songs in less than two hours, a time that included the intermission and a tree giveaway, an eccentric trademark that makes Cake Cake. And the songs the quintet did perform, at least until the hit-filled encore, disproportionately leaned into the group’s mellower material—its slanted interpretations of country and folk—at the expense of its funkier, more driving compositions.
Cake’s stage design felt like an appropriately incongruous analog of the band’s difficult-to-pigeonhole sound: a disco ball, a bubble machine, inflatable noodles flanking the stage and billowing in the wind, and a bucolic landscape mural at the back of the stage. John McCrea, the band’s garrulous frontman, was in particularly chatty and sardonic form, riffing on the state of our nation’s politics (he noted the topicality of the lyrics to “War Pigs,” the band’s great Black Sabbath cover), on the unremitting bleakness of “Sick of You,” on the myriad reasons someone might want to win the evening’s Super Haas avocado tree, on old white men in the front section who refuse to sing along to their songs, thus depriving themselves of the feel-good endorphins such a communal experience released for the rest of us.
As for the performances? They were generally very good, if seldom riveting. McCrea’s delivery, which included elongating certain syllables and clipping others, varied from the recordings, keeping both audience and band on their toes. Vince DiFore was an indispensable presence on stage right, alternating between trumpet, keyboards, and the occasional recorder and tambourine. Lead guitarist Xan McCurdy delivered a couple of impressive solos on “I Will Survive” but largely stuck to the script alongside the unshowy rhythm section of Daniel McCallum (bass) and Todd Roper (drums). McCrea continues to accomplish more with a glockenspiel than anybody else in alternative rock.
Highlights included an extended “Sheep Go to Heaven,” with its rousing call-and-response from the audience, and the early favorite “Rock ‘n’ Roll Lifestyle,” one of music fandom’s most accurate takedowns of a certain kind of trust-fund scenester. Few would complain about the group’s encore, a run of “War Pigs,” “Short Skirt/Long Jacket,” and “The Distance” that prompted the entire audience—which appeared close to capacity—to stand and dance. Less enthralling was the deliberately paced opening of the second set, a trifecta of “Mexico,” “Long Time,” and “I Bombed Korea” that slowed the performance’s pulse when it most called for a post-intermission pick-me-up.
Hardcore Cake fans probably don’t mind the group’s unhurried stage presence, though my memory of the last time I saw them—in 2011 in west Boca, another show with an intermission—was of a more propelled and keyed-in outfit. Perhaps their sweet spot isn’t the full-night “an evening with” concert but the outdoor festival gig: an hour and done, leaving barely enough time to break a sweat.
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