I smiled at my date and told him, “You know… Matt Shultz (the lead singer of Cage the Elephant) was my boyfriend when I was ten. He didn’t know it, but he totally was.” He laughed and commented on how incredible Cage was live and we continued to watch in awe at their July 16th show at Shoreline Amphitheater.
I’ve had a long time love affair with Cage the Elephant. I credit them for launching my path into the alternative rock universe. They changed my perspective on what music could be and how emotions could be expressed. They have grown and changed in tandem with me; with each shift in their sound, there seemed to be a change within my own life. For a long time, it seemed like they were providing the eternal soundtracks for each era of my life. I love Cage, maybe this affects my journalistic integrity, but I am not afraid to admit that I will always love Cage.
However, I wasn’t sold on Cage’s latest album, Social Cues (2019). It seemed overproduced, and it marked a shift from gritty garage rock to easily digestible alternative — a path I have feared for the band for many years. I lamented to a friend that I was afraid this would be evident within their stage presence and we would be left with a crippling feeling that our once favorite band had lost their edge.
I was wrong.
The heartbreak and rawness we were promised on the album, that I argue failed to deliver, transcended into Shultz’s live performance. I can’t imagine what singing about a divorce for thousands of people every night does to a man, but it seems to walk a delicate line between masochistic and therapeutic.
Shultz had an air of chaotic energy with every action he took, whether it was screaming into the mic, ripping off his nylon suit, or destroying the pair of safety goggles he walked onto the stage with. Throughout the night, he remained full of energy, sprinting down the amphitheater’s isles, his body contorting and gyrating to each change behind him as the band observed, unphased by his antics.
The show was an even mix of the band’s last three albums, featuring the holy trinity of six: six songs from Melophobia (2013), six from Tell Me I’m Pretty (2015), and six from Social. A part of me was sad there wasn’t more from Thank You, Happy Birthday (2011) and their self titled album (2008), but I was too high off of the members’ energies to give it much thought.
Shultz promised the audience, “I love you guys. We really fucking love you guys. I want to be down there with you, so just… Just give me a second.” He proceeded to run into the churning mass of bodies and wailed away to “Teeth.” The last thing we saw was Shultz collapsing into a crowd gathered on the lawn moments before the house lights came on and a more ambient track played us out into the night.
The band’s just a bunch of maniacs, it’s why we love them.
Article and photos by Makaila Heifner