November 20, 1997
Their improbable name comes from a misinterpretation of Gastr Del Sol's "The C in Cake", and their sound comes from Chicago's cross-fertilized underground. Drummer-producer John McEntire also works in the intriguing avant-jazz-dub band Tortoise, and singer-guitarist Sam Prekop comes from Shrimp Boat, but The Sea and Cake is looser, lighter, and more accessible than either. Their self-titled debut is a breezier affair than their later, more complex work, but this is the place to start digging their unique groove.
That groove is equal parts twisted cool jazz guitar (think Kenny Burrell on a 3 a.m. acid letdown), salty Caribbean rhythms and experimental flourishes, all frosted with shining, skewed pop. Trust me: it's much smoother on the eardrums than it is on paper. The titles and lyrics are abstract and daunting, but easily compensated by the sound. While I have no idea what "Jacking the Ball" means, the intricate, ringing guitar work and dreamy melody insinuate themselves into your head and stay there.
Prekop's noncommittal vocal style is odd at first but ultimately endearing, despite obtuse songs such as "Bring My Car I Feel To Smash It" and "Flat Lay The Water". The latter boasts a surprisingly catchy riff and an uptempo percussion, but most of the album is languid with a distant, dreamy feel.
McEntire keeps his sound experiments to a tasteful minimum here, burying a gently insistent beeping alarm clock under the softly dissonant guitar lines of "Polio", wrapping an otherwise pretty song in mild paranoia. It's tricks like this that make The Sea and Cake so interesting, and worth repeated listens. This is melodically abstract music with a deft use of space that belies the layers of synths, marimbas and horns underneath. And on tracks like the gorgeous "Showboat Angel", they actually achieve the oft-tried but rarely won prize of fusing rock and jazz without cheapening either.
- Jared O'Connor
twisted cool jazz guitar