Cage the Elephant was the soundtrack of my childhood. Since Cage’s 2009 self-titled debut, my older brother had lead singer Matt Shultz’s swaggery, addictive delivery on repeat. Later, he even strummed through “Cigarette Daydreams” at his school talent show. Once I came of age and tried my own Guitar Center axe of choice, “Cold Cold Cold” from Tell Me I’m Pretty was my preferred song.
This is all to say that seeing Cage the Elephant live for the first time this summer was the culmination of a lifetime of listening. A few days before, I found out a friend had an extra ticket, though I had no idea what to expect from the concert. But, boy, did they deliver because those dudes know how to put on a show.
All evening, I was overwhelmed by dazzling flames, sick solos, and violent jumping and kicking (from Shultz especially). Despite all of these shiny new stimuli, I was also struck by the familiarity of it all. My old favorites sounded exactly how I remembered, only louder and bigger. Even the songs from their recent project, Neon Pill, were imbued with fresh nostalgia. My prior listens to the new record left me thinking these songs were too polished, too produced — yet live, I felt a rougher-hewn energy. When people say “I liked it better live,” they usually mean that the performance replaced their past conception of a song, but this was a special case. Hearing these songs from Neon Pill live felt like a strange co-mingling of the late-aughts-early-teens and the present moment… and I liked it!
Rare for a live act today, Cage the Elephant gave the audience exactly what we wanted without it feeling artificial or canned. The secret ingredient? Genuine enthusiasm. Cage, after all these years, is still in touch with the sense of intense awe and good fortune that comes with live performance at their level. It is no small feat — during a summer concert season commentators warned would be brutal for arena tours — that the band filled an entire stadium with passionate, adoring fans. Especially fans whose median age was hovering around 40, who may well have pushed back an early bedtime to see them. And as a mark of the band’s gratitude, we received the rollicking fun we had all hoped for.
I was a bit startled by the force with which I loved this concert. After all, I enjoy artists playing with the constraints of their past work. Right before my 18th birthday, I saw my first ever concert, the Gorillaz — opened by the talented rap duo EARTHGANG — who occupied a similar but less ubiquitous role in my life to Cage. This performance brought me back to a wide swathe of Gorillaz’s discography that I had previously dismissed. The addition of a live choir and interesting instrumentation made the appeal “click.”
But thinking over that night, what Cage the Elephant did was also an immensely creative endeavor. It is a powerful artistic choice to lean into the longevity of your classics (of which Cage has many) and perform live versions so well that they sound canonical. It is definitely a mark of talent and playfulness to craft this kind of titillating atmospheric experience for your fans… leaping and flailing included. Ahead of Cage the Elephant’s Sept. 1 Nashville stop, I can say with confidence that fans should expect greater creativity. Even with a broken foot, Cage’s frontman refuses to be anything less than a true rockstar, with a relentlessness that remains unchanged from 2009 to now.
