McCrea brings a funky, contrarian vibe to Breese Stevens.
Conversations with John McCrea, the iconoclastic frontman of Cake, are many things: fascinating, polite, meandering, sharply political. They’re also filled with a bluntness and honesty that hits like a cold bucket of water upside the head.
It’s been five years since Cake (who’ll close the 2016 Breese Stevens Field concert docket on Sept. 9) released an album of new material — 2011’s Showroom of Compassion was the last. And while McCrea’s been talking about album seven for more than two of those years, it doesn’t actually seem like the band’s getting much closer to the recording studio. McCrea speaks vaguely about almost being ready to work on some new arrangements with his bandmates, but his mental timeline’s already sliding into 2017.
“I need twice as many songs,” McCrea explains. “In order to get 10, I need to write 21.”
Part of the delay probably has to do with the utter loathing McCrea has for all things corporate, including the recording industry, an institution he says has been eviscerated and utterly unhelpful for 99 percent of musicians.
Luckily, Cake doesn’t need new material to draw a crowd — their back catalogue is jam-packed with more than enough to sate faithful fans of the band’s kitchen-sink blend of ’90s alt-rock, country, folk, funk and brass.
Given the often quirky/ironic nature of Cake’s repertoire, it’s not surprising to learn that McCrea’s musical tastes are pretty diverse, too.
“I’ve always loved folk music,’ he says. “Also classic Appalachian and Broadway show tunes. The type of songs that stick to your ribs.” (That probably explains “Opera Singer” and the iconic cover of “I Will Survive.”)
“I think we’re a touring band, a live band,” McCrea says, while admitting he’s unlikely to go around the globe in what he calls “a haze of petroleum.” The band heads to Nashville, Tennessee, and Athens, Georgia, after Madison. “If there’s no recording industry anymore, maybe we should just play live,” says McCrea. “It’s the only thing that’s left.”
Fans of the band know about McCrea’s activism: He’s long been outspoken on topics ranging from global warming to voter rights, and his politics are as much a part of his persona as the hats he wears onstage during his performances. Turns out he also doesn’t have much love for the tech industry, or for fans who choose to experience Cake concerts through the screen of a smartphone.
“These moments don’t come back. It may be the last time you ever hear me play a song,” he says. “Listening becomes an acquisitional experience rather than a celebratory one, and that’s super-sad. Ninety-five percent of the info you record you’ll never even revisit.”
Obviously, McCrea’s as contrarian as he ever was, a characteristic that, along with the trumpets and deadpan spoken/sung vocals that leavened classics like “Rock n’ Roll Lifestyle” and “Comfort Eagle,” is essential to the band’s enduring appeal. Cake’s famous for performing without a setlist, a quirk that leads to some unexpected gems but also some nights where the band’s most recognizable and commercially successful songs — think “The Distance” and “Short Skirt /Long Jacket” — get left in the bullpen.
“The songs we play, we still like to play,” says McCrea. “We’ll skip what the free market deems an important song. We’re not trying to be punk rock by not playing the hit. We’re trying to follow the muse rather than ‘oh, boy, a setlist.’ If I can’t do it this way, I don’t want to do it. To have to play a song at a certain moment feels like prostitution.”
But here’s the good news: While there’s no shortage of things McCrea doesn’t like, we’re not among them. “There’s a short list of towns I like visiting,” he confides. “There are only about four, and Madison is one of them.”
