Cage The Elephant – Cage The Elephant (DSP)
June 28, 2008
It’s gotta be a euphemism – couldn’t be anything else. Kentucky dirt hounds under the auspices of Brad and Matt (really) Schultz play the sort of bluesy rock n roll that makes you want to take a shower afterwards. Sorta like Stone Gods (hi Sam) but for different reasons. So when they talk about caging the elephant, you know what they really mean. Eh? Eh?
Grubby from the off, CTE’s loose, distorted rhythm guitar courtesy of Brad (really!) Schultz alongside Lincoln Parish’s simple whining lead with a sacred/profane Hammond bringing up the rear comes from a parallel universe where the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin created a super group and invented hip hop. Odd that, but go with it. Though ‘In One Ear’ smacks heavily of Keef n Mick, that riff bears a closer resemblance to Rage Against The Machine than anything, and when you consider vocalist Matt’s recalcitrant belligerence (“we’re coming to your town/ and we’re gonna burn the mother fucker down” – crude as Texas Tea, and just as flammable) it all points to REVOLUTION!
This is a pre-punk revolution though – MC5 were still kicking out the jams and you can hear their ghosts booting away on ‘James Brown’ as clear as day - cheerful but pissed off. None more so than in ‘Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked,’ a deep South ‘LDN’ without the sanctimonious detachment, or 10CC’s ‘I Don’t Like Cricket’ without the snivelling punchbag. The slide guitar just keeps sliding deeper into the mire – it’s not pretty but it sounds catchy… and familiar. Yes, but it’s more than just ripping off riffs; this goes deeper.
It becomes more apparent at the end of ‘Tiny Little Robots;’ the lyrics and vocals hover at the boundaries of the new Brit-pop scene, but after a dub drop in, it spirals into Pink Floyd territory. It’s ‘Welcome To The Machine,’ only it’s not. Then it goes into ‘Diamond Dogs’ monologue mode before segueing into ‘Lotus’ – which is ‘Keep It On The Other Side…’ only not. And as for ‘Free Love’… Jimi Hendrix is spinning in his grave, almost listening to ‘Fire.’ It’s all about the structure, not the tune. That’s what’s so gosh-darned familiar.
There are subtle and sporadic flashes of genius though. ‘Back Against The Wall’ is one, with it’s curious raised eyebrow riff and Matt’s smoke-wasted deep southern fried voice drawling one hell of a line: “my tongue has become a platform for your lies.” Poetry. ‘Back Stabbin’ Betty’, heavy on the cowbell, is like a lost Stones ne-er do well classic, and ‘Soul To The Sun’ manages to get in a sliver of what sounds like ‘Purple Hills,’ just when you’re least expecting it. It doesn’t sound much, but it’s enough to make you think maybe… just maybe.
Unsexy as it is, the best way to think of Cage The Elephant is like a Kia car: they buy the franchise for an old yet reliable car and then produce cheap, familiar and adequate vehicles for the general public. Now that’s not all that CTE are about, but they got hold of some good structures and are putting them to good use. They got a bit of fire, a bit of danger, but in the end they are signed to a subsidiary of EMI. Essentially, harking back musically to a more naïve time, but, like the hippies made good, they know exactly what they’re doing.