Sunday in Stereo: Cage the Elephant's 'Social Cues'
Cage the Elephant's haunted house therapy session and the necessity of rest.
Happy Sunday! We are back from a much-needed week off. Today I revisit the shelf and share thoughts on Cage the Elephant and the necessity of rest.
From 2007 to 2011, Cage the Elephant was one of alternative’s hardest working, most reliable groups. Even before they released their 2009 debut rock radio-friendly self-titled album, they were consistently touring, averaging 70 shows per year from 2007 to 2018, and releasing critically acclaimed albums almost every two years. And although it is not unusual for newer bands to tour and write songs until they collapse, the popularity of Cage may have complicated the lives of its members: especially lead singer Matt Shultz.
Shultz had undergone some intense moments in his personal life. He experienced a painful divorce from French model Juliette Buchs and the death of a close friend. These moments can be incredibly difficult for any person to sparse through, so I could not imagine juggling it all while being one of the hardest-working bands in the rock arena. That’s when the band broke their two-album-a-year streak and took four years to release their spectacular fifth album, 2019’s Social Cues, an insight into a band who needed one thing more than anything: rest.
I’ve always seen Social Cues not only as a therapy session but as a mental health haunted house where we see the daily effects of our narrator’s life on his brain as he tries to find some sort of peace. It’s not a rock opera by any means, but one could see it as a night in the life, much like Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run or Arctic Monkey’s Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino. The themes and sounds on these albums are consistent enough to provide a conceptual feeling that gives the songs a connection to each other.
Social Cues begins with the busy, anxiety-driven ‘Broken Boy,’ providing staccato guitar jabs and racing drums alongside Schultz’s self-deprecating lyrics. “I was born on the wrong side of the train tracks/ I was raised with a strap across my back.” He provides the listener with the image of the broken boy begging anyone to “Lay me on my side or hold me up to the light.” He’s beginning to recognize his brokenness. Past trauma is leaking through the cracks. Our narrator needs someone to take care of him and mend him back together.
The album’s title track leads us to the next room, and we see our broken boy in action. We see him at a party or industry function, surrounded by individuals adoring him and telling him that because of his music and fame, he’ll “never fade.” But he would rather be anywhere else but here. He no longer sees the allure of fame as he did as a kid with a guitar in his bedroom. His social anxiety begins to take control, and again he pleads.
“Hide me in the back room, Tell me when it's over
Don't know if I can play this part much longer.”
He wants to escape the madness he’s created. The radio hits mean nothing. The money means nothing. He wants to be numbed.
“Close your eyes, don't be afraid
Take some of these, they'll ease the pain
Live fast, die young, pay the price
The best die young, immortalized.”
He contemplates the ease of drugs while remembering the rock heroes of yesterday, giving into their vices and dying too young. Is all of this worth it? Or is the finality of death the only way for a rock star to escape?
Our tour continues into various rooms where the meaninglessness of fame and adoration continues to jump around the corners. In ‘Black Madonna,’ our narrator wants to know how he should feel on this mountain of success. ‘Skin and Bones’ compares his mental state to that of nothing but a shell. He feels stuck in a cycle he can’t escape. Then we are brought to the most painful of rooms in this mind maze.
We enter a luxury suit, where a couple sits across from each other in turmoil. ‘Ready to Let Go’ provides the overall theme of this record. The narrator compares the couple’s relationship to that of the destruction of Pompei. Their love has become “a bed of ashes/ still withholding everything like we were never close.” The couple has grown apart. Despite all the money, fame, and success, nothing could help keep this relationship together. More leaks out of the broken boy, but he tries to come to terms.
Don’t you worry, baby, no sense trying to change it
I'ma strike these matches, never had control
I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?
I’ma spread these ashes, never had control
I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready to let go
Control is something he has lost. His life is taking him on a nauseating ride, and he cannot make it stop. It is getting in the way of his mental health and, in turn, damaging his relationships with others. He’s tired and sees only one way out; he has to let go and jump out of the vehicle. He might break a little more, he might shatter, but to put himself back together, it’s his only chance.
As the sun rises, we step outside onto the front porch. The album’s final track, ‘Goodbye,’ stands at the door waving. The narrator grieves the loss of love and the loss of a dear friend and gives words of comfort.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry
Lord knows how hard we tried
It’s almost as if he’s tucking someone into bed, giving a light brush to their hair, and kissing their soft forehead after a long night. Maybe he’s talking to himself, laying himself on his side, until he can fall asleep.
It has now been another four years since Cage the Elephant’s Social Cues and, after this album, and I can understand why. Rest is necessary in this life or we run the risk of burning out. Our view of life becomes jaded, our relationships become strained, and we begin to crack until there is nothing but “skin and bones.” Sometimes we have to “let go.” I hope Cage and their broken boy are getting the rest they need. I hope they take as long as they need.