Cage the Elephant plays with conviction

Matt Shultz doesn’t give too much thought to the idea that he and his bandmates are bringing guitar music back from the brink, as a parade of people have been keen to keep pointing out, proclaiming Cage the Elephant as leaders of some sort of rock ’n’ roll resurgence.

“We don’t get too wrapped up in titles,” says Shultz, speaking by phone from somewhere on the road, about halfway through Cage’s current tour. “I do love rock and roll music, but we, as a band, don’t feel like we have any responsibility to align ourselves to any genre-specific titles or anything.

“For us, the creativity is what comes first. I’m OK with it if people want to think that we’re some kind of revival or whatever, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening.”

Reports of rock’s demise, as they say, have been greatly exaggerated for years. Stylistically, the music falls in and out of favor on the charts, but the last rites have never actually been read, and probably never will be. Just the same, the singer does sing and play with a conviction that’s entirely convincing and that hasn’t been seen in a while. That is the trait that people recognize, in addition to the honesty and vulnerability of the act’s music.

A gifted frontman, Shultz gives off a very real sense that he believes the words he’s singing, and that, in turn, informs his presence, which accounts for why critics have praised him. “It’s just, like, a certain kind of spirit and sincerity that we’re trying to capture.”

From the sound of it, Shultz’s earnestness was baked into his upbringing. Matt and his brother Brad, who plays guitar in the band, grew up in Bowling Green, Kentucky, a small town about 45 minutes north of Nashville, Tennessee. There wasn’t much to do there, Matt recalls, besides hanging out, writing songs and going to house parties — oh, and learning how to overcome adversity together every day.

“We lived in low-budget housing, you know, four boys in a small apartment,” Shultz says. “So we grew up really close, and I think that’s helped us a lot, basically, in the different challenges.

“At the end of the day, I remember going to bed at night many times actually hungry, and not just like, ‘Oh, another serving would be good. I’m talking about actually hungry,” he reveals. “My dad was working really hard and doing his best, but it just wasn’t a good financial time for the family.”

This is the kind of revelation that makes Shultz seem so genuine. The honesty of his reflection is endearing, but it’s also uncommon in the age of social media, where everybody seems to share everything about their lives online — well, except this sort of background information, which tends to get concealed.

“When I look at my own social feed, I think, more often than not, we lean towards posting the highlights, because that’s what seems interesting,” Shultz says. “What we end up doing is curating the perfect presentation of our life, and it’s just not realistic. I think we definitely live in a time where it’s very easy to hide yourself.

“You know, we have all this incredible opportunity to communicate, and the tools are all incredible,” he goes on. “But I just find it interesting that as human beings, we tend to try to hide ourselves a lot.”

That tendency also applies to making music , Shultz says. “With each record, I think one of the things we try for the most is to shed creative baggage. I feel like that’s stylistic leanings that are hinged to fear. As you continue to strip away style, you’re presenting more and more of yourself.

“At the same time, with lyrical content, we’re trying to be sincere and tell transparent stories and ideas and stand behind them, as well,” Shultz says. “And more often than not, those stories are very personal.”

Read more from Dave Herrera at reviewjournal.com. Contact him at dherrera@reviewjournal.com and follow @rjmusicdh on Twitter.