On March 6, 2010, my beliefs that the days of the front man had gone to the wayside were quelled as a sold out crowd boomed inside Boston’s, Paradise Rock Club, in want of their mewed men. And after a four-on-the-floor laden set by Morning Teleportation and the super clear melodic swirl of As Tall As Lions, Cage The Elephant released on the crowd.
When listening to their self-titled, debut release, the feel you get from Cage The Elephant is one of attempted rejuvenation: catchy minor-pentatonic guitar riffs and slammin’ drums with an overall dirty rock n’ roll throwback. However, when you see Cage, the insinuated attitude is all there. And with each song ringing in around three and a half minutes, by the end of the night I felt as though this force was unstoppable.
The band is solid. The string slingers sport Ramones-esque haircuts and the drummer beats time in a stoic, reserved fashion. But when it comes to the show, it’s all about the lead singer. Front man Matt Schultz flails around the stage with microphone in stand like something from the good old Eddie Vedder days. He pulls at himself, coaxing from his bellows the screams, growls and barks that are echoed word for word by the crowd. Slithering and staggering about the stage as if he were a fifth or two deep in Jack, Schultz falls all over himself and the stage incessantly. It was a scene like that of ‘back in the day,’ when all that mattered was sex, drugs and you know the rest.
Fast, loud and filled with Marshall distorted guitars complimented by strained hooks, the show that Cage The Elephant brings rings of an ‘I don’t care, let’s party’ attitude, affirming that Rock n’ Roll ain’t dead by a long shot, not if these boys have anything to say about it.
Check out this review during April at Pulse Magazine (Worcester, MA) online!
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