Tegan and Sara: SO JEALOUS: Random Memories
Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. ~From the television show The Wonder Years



Unlimited Sunshine Tour
9:30 Club
Washington, D.C.
January 21, 2006
The pairing of alt-rock stalwart Cake with two up-and-coming indie acts—a gypsy punk band and a pair of singing sisters, along with an inter-act comedian—was a bit of a surprise and begged the question: Would fans of the mainstream-radio played Cake take to the eccentric opening bands?
At Washington, D.C.’s 9:30 Club on Jan. 21, the crowd loved them. Blown away by the onstage antics and energy of Gogol Bordello, the sweet sing-along charm of Tegan & Sara (pictured) and the clever, biting humor of Eugene Merman, the opening acts did their jobs, getting the crowd excited for Cake.
The menagerie of gypsy punks in Gogol Bordello took the stage first, and used the entire stage—and audience—in their production, which closely resembled a circus act. The four musicians and two female dancers sang, jumped, danced and in one case, stage dove into the crowd, to heavily Eastern European-influenced songs.
Tegan & Sara followed, and despite the drastic change in styles—the boundless energy of Gogol Bordello compared with the sweet and mild stylings of the singing twins—the transition worked. Tegan & Sara sang a series of their greatest hits, including the essential “Walking With a Ghost,” along with “Monday Monday Monday,” “I Hear Noises,” and “I Know I Know I Know.” The duo can write songs, there’s no doubt about that, but they’d benefit from an engaging stage presence to go along with them.
But despite the crowd’s appreciation for Gogol Bordello and Tegan & Sara, it was Cake that they really wanted to see. As Cake ran through a “best of” list, including “Sheep Go to Heaven,” “Never There,” Shadow Stabbing” and “Short Skirt/Long Jacket,” (the band’s first hit, “The Distance,” went noticeably missing), it became apparent that what was once disparaged as a one-hit wonder was, in fact, a real band. When frontman John McCrea stepped on stage, dressed in couture every rock star should emulate—corduroy pants and a tweed suit jacket over an orange sweatshirt over a t-shirt, plus a tan fedora—he and the band owned the stage.
Cake’s odd combination of wry humor, speak-singing and minimalist stage shtick was just what the audience expected and wanted. As the crowd sang, shouted and chanted “hey” and “ho,” Cake encouraged the feedback. When the final song of the encore faded out, it was clear that both band and audience got what they wanted: A perfectly enjoyable evening.



Unlimited Sunshine Tour
9:30 Club
Washington, D.C.
January 21, 2006
The pairing of alt-rock stalwart Cake with two up-and-coming indie acts—a gypsy punk band and a pair of singing sisters, along with an inter-act comedian—was a bit of a surprise and begged the question: Would fans of the mainstream-radio played Cake take to the eccentric opening bands?
At Washington, D.C.’s 9:30 Club on Jan. 21, the crowd loved them. Blown away by the onstage antics and energy of Gogol Bordello, the sweet sing-along charm of Tegan & Sara (pictured) and the clever, biting humor of Eugene Merman, the opening acts did their jobs, getting the crowd excited for Cake.
The menagerie of gypsy punks in Gogol Bordello took the stage first, and used the entire stage—and audience—in their production, which closely resembled a circus act. The four musicians and two female dancers sang, jumped, danced and in one case, stage dove into the crowd, to heavily Eastern European-influenced songs.
Tegan & Sara followed, and despite the drastic change in styles—the boundless energy of Gogol Bordello compared with the sweet and mild stylings of the singing twins—the transition worked. Tegan & Sara sang a series of their greatest hits, including the essential “Walking With a Ghost,” along with “Monday Monday Monday,” “I Hear Noises,” and “I Know I Know I Know.” The duo can write songs, there’s no doubt about that, but they’d benefit from an engaging stage presence to go along with them.
But despite the crowd’s appreciation for Gogol Bordello and Tegan & Sara, it was Cake that they really wanted to see. As Cake ran through a “best of” list, including “Sheep Go to Heaven,” “Never There,” Shadow Stabbing” and “Short Skirt/Long Jacket,” (the band’s first hit, “The Distance,” went noticeably missing), it became apparent that what was once disparaged as a one-hit wonder was, in fact, a real band. When frontman John McCrea stepped on stage, dressed in couture every rock star should emulate—corduroy pants and a tweed suit jacket over an orange sweatshirt over a t-shirt, plus a tan fedora—he and the band owned the stage.
Cake’s odd combination of wry humor, speak-singing and minimalist stage shtick was just what the audience expected and wanted. As the crowd sang, shouted and chanted “hey” and “ho,” Cake encouraged the feedback. When the final song of the encore faded out, it was clear that both band and audience got what they wanted: A perfectly enjoyable evening.
