Nugget

from the LP Fashion Nugget, Capricorn Records, 1996



Always existing dangerously close to the region of contrived schlock inhabited by G-Love or Jack Johnson, and coming across a bit like Soul Coughing’s dumber drunk cousin, Cake were the toast of the town there for a second back in the nondescript mid ‘90s, post-Nirvana wastelands; yes, most of their stuff smacks so heavily of upper-middle class cynicism (see: angst ex nihilo) that it’s only digestible in small doses, but this particular lump of infuriated discharge always proves to be a cathartic listen. I mean, there’s always somebody in your life that needs to hear the primary message of this song, even if they’re just on the periphery (see: that crazy dude on the bus that always gets preaching real good), “…shut the fuck, ah yeah, shut the fuck up…” Shit, there are surely people that would like to say that to me at times (see: G-Love & Jack Johnson fans, lol). I guess these guys are still churning out albums, their upcoming release apparently being recorded entirely with solar energy---I guess all that white guilt wasn’t just irony after all…