Cake came out of Sacramento's 90s alt-rock scene, mixing dry talk-singing, crisp guitar chug, and trumpet hooks into a sly, percussive sound. On this bill with Myles Smith, expect a contrast that works: seasoned groove then stripped acoustic storytelling.

Deadpan grooves, bright acoustics

A likely Cake run could hit The Distance, Short Skirt/Long Jacket, and their sly cover of I Will Survive, with Never There as a mid-set singalong. Myles Smith is apt to bring Stargazing and Solo, keeping tempos steady so the room can sing. You will see a wide mix of ages, from long-time fans in vintage tees to newer listeners who found Myles Smith online, all locked into the backbeat rather than pushing forward.

Crowd notes and curios

Trivia fans note that Cake often gives a small tree to one person and tracks it on their site, and they built much of Pressure Chief at their own Upbeat studio. Another small detail: the vibraslap you hear is mic'd like a snare accent, so it cuts even in outdoor spaces. All mentions of songs and staging here are informed estimates, not a fixed script.

Scenes Collide, One Easy Night

You will spot thrift-store band tees from the 90s next to clean hoodies from recent TikTok-era artists, and it does not feel forced. Groups lean against rails chatting about favorite deep cuts, then hush up for Myles Smith when he starts a quiet intro. Phones come out for the opening bars of Stargazing, while vinyl buyers compare variant colors at the Cake merch table.

Rituals and little signals

Expect a friendly split-the-room singalong when Cake asks each side to take a line, and a loud cheer when the trumpet announces The Distance. A few fans still trade stories about the onstage tree giveaway, and some wear small leaf pins as a nod to it. Muted earth tones, denim, and old sneakers are common, but there is also a pocket of sharp button-downs that fits Cake's tidy rhythms. Between sets, you will hear 60s soul and funk on the PA, and the crowd claps land right on time. It feels like a hang built on respect for tight grooves and honest lyrics rather than volume or spectacle.

Groove Mechanics and Acoustic Glow

Cake keeps the pulse dry and springy, with John McCrea's close-mic voice sitting on top like a narrator more than a belter. Guitars stay clean and slightly twangy, bass lines push forward, and the trumpet floats countermelodies that act like a second singer. They often drop the drums to half-time in verses, then snap back to a march for choruses, which makes crowd claps land on the off-beat.

Small choices, big feel

A lesser-noted habit is how Cake will swap the guitar voicings to leave space for vibraslap hits, almost like a metronome with attitude. Myles Smith usually builds layers with a loop pedal, stacking rhythm strums, soft harmonies, and a picked hook to widen a solo setup. He favors bright capo positions that keep his voice in a comfortable middle range, and he lets the bridge breathe by thinning the loops. Lighting tends to follow the music, with Cake in warm ambers and greens that match the earthy tones, and Myles Smith under cooler whites that keep the acoustic focus. Expect compact solos, tidy endings, and arrangements that make the words easy to follow.

Kindred Ears: Cake and Myles Smith Neighbors

If you like Beck, the wry grooves and sideways funk of Cake will feel familiar, though Beck leans more electronic textures. Weezer fans often cross over for tight guitar economy and hooks that hit without shouting.

Adjacent sounds, shared wit

Piano-pop devotees of Ben Folds tend to appreciate Cake for the dry humor and precise rhythm section that keeps the jokes landing. On the other side, Myles Smith shares a lane with Noah Kahan, trading in open-hearted acoustic songs built for full-voice singalongs.

Acoustic kinship

If you come for Kahan's folk-pop lift, Myles Smith brings a leaner solo approach that leans on fingerpicking instead of big band swells. Mix these worlds and you get a night where groove-first alt-rock meets campfire-pop intimacy without feeling stitched together.