ONSTAGE MAGIC & OFFSTAGE GEMS FROM CAKE AT NYC'S PIER 17

You’re about to see a band who transcends generational divides if you overhear chats about learner’s permits and nineties memories side by side in the pit. Just like the sounds of CAKE’s genre-surfing hits, this huge slice of their fanbase at NYC’s Pier 17 was so varied, it could have been a sample set for a census. From well-researched dudes protecting poster tubes to teens staging selfies in their new merch, the gamut was duly psyched for the final evening of the two-night no-opener run – the band’s first New York shows in five years. The swarm’s warm support appeared to please frontman John McCrea, who swapped his signature sass for sweetness. He got mischievous only a few times, for one worthy cause: making NYC people, a.k.a. instant-gratification fiends, briefly stop to look at the moon.

Pier 17

Merch

This mandatory tranquility was enforced three times as the bright crescent was gradually hidden by a skyscraper. People clearly wanted to find out what song was next and keep dancing, but McCrea soothed, “Just relax,” with unsarcastic Bob Ross energy. “The sky is beautiful. There is a tiny sliver of moon behind you that during the course of the evening will move to my right and will hide itself behind that glassy, impersonal structure.” When darkness had fallen, he reported on its journey again. “Wait, wait, wait. That’s your last view of the moon. It’s gonna disappear behind that building. You don’t care; just, ‘Give me the music right now. Don’t talk.’ I think that the natural world is interesting. You only get a finite number of times that you even get to look at the moon. This is one of a finite number, so look at it and appreciate it.” His use of “natural world” quickly became a little inside joke with NYC; it was shouted back to him throughout the evening like a song title in a request. “Yep, natural wooorld,” he replied in a hilariously approving voice.

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Behind you, the city. Before you, the bridge. Seemingly all around you, the water. The Rooftop at Pier 17 is a spacious venue that turns heavenly in such sunny-yet-breezy weather. Even better, there were essentially two shows happening at once: CAKE’s rhythmically-tight unpredictable fun, and the crowd’s loud parallel performance. With so many fans nailing McCrea’s elaborate lyrics, the collective precision caused certain words to detonate like firecrackers – the bucket seat in “Stickshifts and Safetybelts,” the income tax bracket in “Rock ‘n’ Roll Lifestyle,” the flies and spiders in “Frank Sinatra,” the bottom of the sea in “Love You Madly.” Vince DiFiore switched between synth and trumpet, and his brass tone was arrestingly mellifluous as it soared outdoors. Xan McCurdy’s nimble guitar licks matched the polished look of his traditional Western shirt. Bassist Daniel McCallum was deftly vibing with the explosive drumming of Todd Roper. McCrea sang coolly with outstretched arms and made mood-boosting eye contact. He smirked at all the insane screams each time he hit the vibraslap. He got the crowd singing in rounds – sometimes parting the sea down the middle, sometimes splitting us up by gender – with the ease of a seasoned orchestra conductor. He even fired merch way out there (nearly over the edge, from his view), with one of those cannons you see at sporting events, later explaining this behavior with the pacing of a standup comic. “That’s part of the reason why I got into music in the first place: so that I could use a tee shirt gun. It’s one of the big motivators for me.”

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“I went to a women’s basketball game a long time ago and they were using a contraption like that to shoot hot dogs at the audience. And I was like, ‘Holy shit. We have to do that.’ So I talked to our manager and he said, ‘No, you can’t. You can’t. There are health and safety issues. Your insurance will go way up.’ And I said, ‘Why do sports people know how to have such a better time than music people?’ Anybody know the answer to that? They’re living the dream. Shooting food. Like food is coming out of the sky toward you. That…that’s luxury.” One witty fan earned a McCrea smile when he suggested, “TREE CANNON.” The band is famous for giving out a tree for one fan to plant, if they can identify its species, a tradition that occurs during each show’s intermission. Night two’s winner was another John, who correctly guessed Cortland Apple in the Big Apple and promised to give it a home the next morning. He kept his promise. “Have you noticed that this band doesn’t even use a setlist? How unprofessional is that? Like we should not be hired,” laughed McCrea. Making the no-setlist set extra special after a killer “Never There,” fans lost their minds as “Short Skirt/Long Jacket” picked up slack. The second it started, one girl on the rail was squealing as she urged her short-skirted friend, “This is it! Put on your jacket! Put on your jacket!” cementing the official fan uniform for CAKE concerts. From the applause after horn-powered finale jam “The Distance,” it seemed like everyone could have gone for a third set.

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After witnessing such a triumph of live excellence, it was a surreal treat to catch up with John McCrea after the show. Fellow fans talked his ears off with adoration and inadvertently backed him into a corner, but he answered them all very kindly and posed for photos between beer sips. Even so, I wondered if he might be ready to go rest, but he seemed pleasantly surprised when I asked for a quote for an article. Given the choice of an edgy question or a wholesome one, he happily answered both. Edgy first: what is something that people don’t understand about CAKE that he wishes they understood? McCrea paused for a few seconds before stating decidedly, “That this is actually how we’re trying to sound.” He added with a grin, “Yeah. It’s intentional.” It’s wild to think he might have implied they sound anything less than stellar. Surely, he was subtly addressing some critics out there, but I couldn’t imagine any criticism after such a strong performance.

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Onto the wholesome question: what’s the craziest tree story ever? McCrea took his time thoughtfully recollecting. “Well, I mean, it’s not crazy. But the original tree story is that I lived in an apartment in Sacramento when my band was first starting out, and I went to this garage sale, and there was a tree for sale. It was like seven dollars. And I bought it and I planted it illegally in between the sidewalk and the street; that little strip. I didn’t ask anybody for permission. I just planted it there. And then my life got busy, and I moved to a different apartment, and I started touring too much. Then, about ten years later, I just happened to be in that part of town and I walked by where the apartment was. And the tree was like thirty feet tall. And that was pretty crazy. That’s probably why I wanted to do this. I felt like everybody should do that at least one time in their short life. You should plant one tree, at least.”