Cake has a new album out. This makes me a very happy buttface. It’s been about seven years since they came out with their last album, Pressure Chief, which I enjoyed because I am an obsessive fan like that but this new one, Showroom of Compassion totally takes–yes, need I say it–the cake.
My favorite thing about the band is their sound: they’re one of the few bands that doesn’t change or experiment with their music. They have their sound and continue to put out music that stays faithful to whatever their message is, which is usually anti-corporate, pro-environment, homegrown, whatever. I’m so bad when it comes to writing about music, but I do know how frustrated and disappointed I feel whenever a favorite band comes out with a new album and they end up sounding totally different, either super produced and poppy or just….weird. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Beck. We had something special going on back in high school but now you’re just annoying. Or you, Weezer. You guys need to grow up.
Anyway, where was I? Oh. Cake. Anyway, I listened to Showroom of Compassion about a bajillion times so far and I have to say, it’s by far my favorite. The tone is darker but the sound is the same. It’s like getting a nice big hug from an old friend and you realize that despite all the time apart, your relationship has stayed the same: just as fun and amazing, but also refreshingly new. One song, “Long Time” makes my heart pitter-patter and another one, “Got To Move” has enough of their signature internal rhymes to make me smile.
They’re playing five shows at the Troubadour next month, and if I could, I would go to all of them. No, really, I would. But I’ve got bills to pay and have allowed myself to attend one, which marks the 6th time I’ve seen them live. Is that sad? Maybe a little. But I’ve never been disappointed in their performance, and John McCrea always has something to say. Last, last time he told a fan to stop using he flash camera because it was really distracting. Last time he gave away an avocado tree. One time, B and I watched this dirty hippie play along with his drums during the Health and Harmony festival. Now I’m rambling. I should stop. My only excuse is that Nikole and I got our nails done during our lunch break so I think I’ve inhaled a bit too much polish fumes. Yes, that explains it. La la la.
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