If you run into Sam Prekop after a Sea and Cake show, and you want to get on his bad side, say something like, "Your music is so mellow, dude.""I don't like mellow," Prekop declares in his typically low-key fashion. "I don't feel terribly mellow when I'm doing this. I'm not angst-ridden either. I think, ultimately, the hope is to make rich music that's complex with ideas. There's a lot of thought put into it. Maybe the intensity is not off-the-cuff, the kind of readable intensity usually associated with a rock band. I think early on we threw people off. The elements weren't immediately construed as from the rock canon. So it was like, 'What's this?'"
Perhaps because The Sea and Cake stirred their underground buzz about the same time that Space Age Bachelor Pad music glimmered then fizzled, certain pundits have taken to calling their music "loungey." If you want to get further on Prekop's bad side, call Sea and Cake music such. "I never understood the lounge tag," he says dismissively.
Being a "what's this?" band is never easy from a marketing standpoint, so The Sea and Cake is fortunate to be on the uber-hip indie imprint Thrill Jockey, where music that's tough to categorize is routinely made and sold. The 10-year quartet is also part of a category-defying scene in Chicago often called post-rock.
But enough with the genre name-dropping, awready. The Sea and Cake dance to the beat of their own drummer, who happens to be lauded producer/instrumentalist John McEntire, also a member of Tortoise. His tidy, mannered stickwork gives The Sea and Cake its distinctively four-square rhythmic personality.
Prekop, the group's principal songwriter, plays guitar and synthesizer and layers feathery vocal melodies atop the complex instrumental tracks. He used to be in the band Shrimp Boat. So did Eric Claridge, The Sea and Cake's bassist, whose fluid lines provide much of the songs' melodic inspiration.
Rounding out the foursome is Archer Prewitt, late of The Coctails, who contributes guitar, piano, synth and accessory vocals. In all, Sea and Cake music is ethereal yet insistent, mathy yet flowing, elusive yet comforting. And cool, always cool.
A good portion of The Sea and Cake's resistance to definition comes from the far-flung interests and influences of its members. McEntire, one of the indie world's most sought-after producers, is constantly busy in his Soma Studio. Claridge has a painting/illustration career, part of which is regularly showcased in the Chicago Reader. Prewitt produces his own comics. Prekop's paintings have been featured in a number of galleries, and he continues to pursue photography.
And then there's the musical input. Prekop ticks off some of the watershed albums that have influenced him. "A really early record that blew my mind before I started making music was Sandinista by The Clash," he says. "I first heard it in high school, and I think it made me hungry from then on for records that I had no idea how they came about, that I'd never heard anything like before. Another good example is JuJu Music by King Sunny Ade. Tom Waits' Swordfishtrombones and Rain Dogs. The Velvet Underground was a big deal for me, especially the third record without a title, the one with mostly ballads. The (Brian) Eno record Another Green World. Art Ensemble of Chicago, People of Sorrow."
Prekop's voice trails off, as if to say, "I could go on …"
Little of the aforementioned music is readily evident in The Sea and Cake sound, which is how Prekop likes it. "I think I've never actively tried to incorporate influences," he explains. "Over the years, my tastes have changed, and I sort of go in and out of what I'm interested in. But if you really fall in love with some record, there's no way it's not gonna affect what you do. Lately, I've been listening to a lot of classic reggae stuff, like Lee Perry. It's not immediately apparent in our music, but the spirit of it is in there."
Although Prekop is the quartet's main songwriter, he does not craft finished products that can be played on an acoustic guitar. "Usually it starts out that I sort of get together little snips and rough ideas, and things that usually lend themselves to everyone else's contribution," he says. "It's open-ended. All the pieces go through a lot of changes. It's pretty collaborative. All of our skills shine at different times. The hierarchy is quite slippery."
Most of the band's sessions take place with all four members in the studio, and there's far more live ensemble playing than the finished CDs might suggest. Even though The Sea and Cake has a time-tested recording methodology, they're willing to tweak it. For instance, Prekop initiated a different approach to cutting vocal tracks for the band's quietly insinuating current album One Bedroom.
"For our last record, Oui, we used the vocals that I worked on at home," Prekop says. "This time around, I felt I was missing the interaction with other people. When I had the melodies and lyrics all together, I went back into the studio to perform the vocals. Before, I was left too much to my own devices. I got too far into the details. It helps to have someone sitting there waiting."
Although The Sea and Cake are not what you'd call road dogs, they do tour regularly. The group's not known as a powerhouse live act. In fact, it's been written that the members play while seated on stage. Not true, says Prekop. And although Sea and Cake music is tightly scripted, it does have "bits of spontaneity," Prekop says. "There are certain sections of certain tunes that are extended. Not so much with the new material as with some of the older pieces. Some of those have been heavily reworked and set up to be expanded. It makes them fun to play again. I think people are surprised by our live show, that it's more energetic than expected."
Senior Writer Eric Snider can be reached at snider@weeklyplanet.com or 813-248-8888 ext. 114.
This article appears in Sep 25 – Oct 1, 2003.