eMusic Review
Kentucky's Cage The Elephant is at war with itself. Their much-ballyhooed live shows are bursting with energy, maybe since these funky blues-rawk headbangers have more ideas than their bodies can contain, a dervish splitting the difference between indie braininess and superstar abandon. Everything spirals outward from lead singer Matt Shultz, whose primitive yawp can match 100 different records in his collection. He can do the soulful croon of a Jon Spencer alterna-soul rave-up ("Free Love"), the marble-mouthed flow of a '90s honky-hop crossover novelty ("Ain't No Rest For The Wicked"), the glammy yowl of Buckcherry cock-rock theatrics ("Back Against The Wall") and even a bit of Perry Farrell-styled aggro-hippie nonsense ("Lotus"). But mostly he's like a deranged bloozpunk — think Jack White raised on Bob Dylan and hip-hop and you're getting close — with a penchant for snotty teenage fuck-you's and a feral scream that isn't used nearly enough. His band attacks different sides of weirdo arena-rock, as guitarist Brad Shultz blows through a tightly wound soul-shimmy, somehow finding peace with drummer Jared Champion's mosh-worthy beats in "James Brown." A unique band with something abrasive and ugly for everyone.
