The four remaining members of Cake (plus a new guitarist) took the stage on November 2 at Chicago's Vic Theater clad in near-identical outfits: jeans, cartoonish belt buckles, button-down shirts and cowboy hats. Lead singer and songwriter John McCrea added a pair of southern trucker-style sunglasses to the "costume." As the band played to an ecstatic crowd, they could have been an eerie alternative incarnation of Lynrd Skynrd.

But they're not Lynrd Skynrd. They're Cake. Therein lies the problem.

Though the crowd seemed hung on every word that droned from McCrea's mouth, the sunglasses and hat--which never left his head--managed to create an odd distance between McCrea and the audience, something he struggled to overcome through weak gesturing and several organized sing-alongs to classic Cake tunes. He connected with his fans, but not through any great work of his own. The mood of the crowd was such that he probably could have connected with them just as easily by urinating on their heads, or sitting in silence for two hours trimming his toenails. It was a night in which McCrea could do no wrong.

Meanwhile, the rest of Cake stood in their "assigned spots" for the two-hour concert, rarely deviating from their positions on stage and hardly communicating with the crowd at all. Lead guitarist Xan McCurdy, whose youthful looks probably would have gotten him carded at the bar if it weren't for the all-access pass, seemed bolted to his location on the stage and would certainly have benifited from thrashing about the stage a bit. Instead, McCrea dominated the evening, moving about the center of the stage to each band member, presumably to announce the next song in the set. He also "conducted" the band at points from his spot at center stage. One got the sense that Cake was more of a backing unit fronted by songwriter and lead singer McCrea than a total creative whole.

Based on the band's choice of concert costume, it was surprising that the set didn't feature that much country-style music. They still trotted through some of their hits; they still played the classic cover of Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" and they still ended with their latest hit radio single, "Never There," a song about as far removed from country music as country music is removed from hip-hop. Given their appearance and demeanors at the concert, it would have been exciting to see them deviate from expectations and deliver a set of country tunes, with their own songs mixed in with covers along the lines of the Willie Nelson cover "Sad Songs and Waltzes" from 1996's Fashion Nugget.

But they were a clever pop/rock combo dressed up as country stars, and it made for an unsettling impression on which to build an evening's worth of music. It's not a fashion judgment; they can play naked for all I care. It's more a sense of attitude than anything else, and that attitude seemed inspired by their choice of apparel. McCrea's reliance on the cowboy hat and sunglasses was especially disconcerting, preventing him from using his eyes to make contact with the crowd and giving a suggestion of aloofness even when he was speaking directly to the audience.

It didn't help that the night seemed dominated by the same melancholy in which Cake's newest record, Prolonging the Magic, is drenched. I'm all for a healthy dose of heartbreak in my live music, but the crowd's undaunted enthusiasm clashed with the gentler tones of such new tunes as "Mexico," "You Turn the Screws" and "Hem of your Garment," joined by older "nuggets" such as "Friend is a Four-Letter Word" and "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps." Even when they sped things up or built the intensity with performances of "Satan is My Motor" and "Frank Sinatra," it was hard to avoid the sadness. That's great for a quiet acoustic set, but when the crowd is wasted and screaming for early hits like "Jolene" and "Daria," it's hard to focus on any subtle musical choices.

Cake didn't seem to have a fixed setlist for the evening's show. Maybe putting some prior thought into the song sequencing would have resulted in a more cohesive show. As it is, the quintet delivered a strong if unsettling set, marred by McCrea's distanced approach to the audience and by some unsure impulses from the band. It seemed almost as though they weren't quite performing the concert they wanted to perform, and perhaps they would have been happier doing a country-tinged acoustic set but felt required to trot out the established Cake sound. Whatever the band's thought process behind the concert, the next time they decide to dress up as Lynrd Skynrd, they should try acting like the band. Costumes are fun, but the band's country-rock swagger failed to mesh with their straight-ahead spicy rock sound. Mixed musical signals do not a brilliant evening of rock make.