Prolonging the Generosity: An Open Letter to CAKE

Dear CAKE,

I was at your show last week at Middlebury College in verdant Middlebury, Vermont, and I wanted to share some thoughts in the hope that they will enlighten you just a bit. I also need some advice, but not just yet. It seems as though you’ve become even more embittered since the last time I saw you play, and I feel compelled to act as a voice for a large slice of your audience. Simply put, there are some of us out there, myself included, who are true CAKE fans, who know what the name of your first album is, who have never purchased a ring tone, and who would appreciate not being debased during the performance. I realize, especially at a college gig, that there are always going to be dipshits out there, we were standing next to three of them in fact, but there are also good people like me, who are there to see a band they really dig and really know, and who don’t deserve to be lumped in with those morons.

My purpose here is not to lecture, it is to raise your spirits, but I must say one more thing. Try not to get so angry with people for yelling song requests. That’s what people do, and will always do, and I don’t think it warrants rage on your behalf. Some artists encourage that behavior, and others simply ignore it, but every CAKE show I’ve ever attended inevitably leads up to the moment when John throws a hissy fit at someone for wanting to hear their favorite song. I’m not suggesting you honor their request and become a slave to their demands, fuck them if you don’t want to play Jolene, just know that they’re not trying to be belligerent. They are only being happy, fun-loving people at a rock show, that is until a tongue lashing from the singer kills the mood.

I hope this horrible world doesn’t grind you down too much and that you keep going. I can’t wait to go down to the record store and buy another high quality album of catchy rhythms, smart and clever lyrics, magical guitar and trumpet phrases, and all of that, but I haven’t yet decided about seeing another show. At thirty-five, I’d rather stay home and hang baskets on the wall than be unjustly scolded.

I trust you’ve read this far, because after all, a DJ friend of mine got you to sign a copy of Pressure Chief for me, and you wrote, “Ryan is great.” Thanks for that. Here is my question, which I hope you can answer. What the hell gives?


Sincerely,

Ryan