The challenge of judging a band based solely on opening slots is that you rarely get to see them under ideal circumstances. Last time Cage The Elephant crossed our path, they were igniting a still-sunlit stadium in Queens before Beck took the stage. Before that, they spent three evenings warming up audiences for The Rolling Stones, a task that borders on impossible no matter how talented the support act may be. Those performances were impressive enough, but they left an obvious question unanswered: what does Cage The Elephant look like when the night belongs entirely to them?
The answer arrives almost immediately at the Olympia. Long before the set reaches its midpoint, the floor is visibly moving beneath the crowd. The audience reacts with the sort of fervour usually reserved for bands with much longer histories, shouting every lyric, bouncing in unison and transforming the venerable theatre into something closer to a pressure cooker. Any lingering doubts about the band's status disappear within minutes.
At the centre of the storm stands Matt Shultz. Watching him perform is like witnessing a controlled detonation. He spends the evening throwing himself around the stage, rolling across the floor, climbing onto equipment and repeatedly launching himself toward the audience. The comparison points are obvious: there is some of Iggy Pop's abandon, some of Steven Tyler's theatricality and a healthy dose of his own peculiar brand of chaos. Few contemporary frontmen commit themselves so completely to the physical side of performance.
His brother Brad Shultz contributes plenty of sharp, angular guitar work and occasionally steps into the spotlight himself, but Cage The Elephant is built around Matt's gravitational pull. The rest of the band performs its role with admirable efficiency, allowing the songs and the frontman to occupy centre stage.
Fortunately, the songs more than justify the excitement. Early highlights arrive in the form of "Too Late to Say Goodbye" and "Cold Cold Cold," two standout moments from Tell Me I'm Pretty. The latter remains one of the finest garage-rock songs produced this century, sounding as though it could have slipped comfortably onto one of the original Nuggets compilations. Elsewhere, the group draws heavily from Social Cues, with the ferocious "Broken Boy" providing an ideal opening statement.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of the evening is how hungry the band sounds. Cage The Elephant has already been together for well over a decade by this point, with multiple successful albums behind them and a loyal international audience. Yet nothing about the performance suggests a group settling comfortably into its position. The energy remains combustible, the delivery fearless and the sense of urgency completely intact. Some bands spend years trying to recapture the recklessness of their early days. Cage The Elephant never seem to have misplaced it in the first place.
