Cage The Elephant: Tell Me I'm Pretty Review

 

When I think of Cage The Elephant, I think the same thing most people do: one hit wonder, money don't grow on trees. It's somewhat of a shame, because they're not half bad. I've always preferred them to Artic Monkeys, as their lyrics are far less demeaning. In recent years, I've come to appreciate their talents have outlasted Franz Ferdinand for a reason, too. Maybe they don't reach the heights of some of their colleagues, but they've a) never seemed to care enough to follow trends and b) seemed to enjoy the ride. I don't know if either of these things are actually true, but that's the vibe I've received from them and I'm sticking with it because I like it. 

Tell Me I'm Pretty, then, catches me off guard. A White Stripes style "the challenge is part of the process" record, making quintessential early-days rock, with blunt themes and direct melodies. For some groups, this is a rut they're trying to get out of. Wanting to be deeper, hoping to appear opaque is obviously the goal of so many groups. But to intentionally sound shallow and transparent but still good is not something I hear often.

To an extent this isn't too big of a stretch for the band. They aren't known in particular for dense soundscapes or crazy outside-the-box songwriting. As mentioned before, the simplicity of their claim to fame doesn't hide the meaning. That part isn't so hard. Switching out the lapsteel guitars and toy pianos for baseline plastic electric guitar distortions from oh so many Beatles songs? Even easier. To leave it there would be to do what Vampire Weekend does by taking Buddy Holly aesthetics and writing Oxford Comma in almost disrespect of the discipline. Better yet, it's like every electronic group hoping if they vodocode, they'll sound like Daft Punk. These are simply taking something old and making something new from it. Cage The Elephant are taking something old and making something old.  

And they take no time at all establishing this as the goal: Cry Baby makes the most of the era's penchant for organs, whispers, and jangly jammy guitar strumming and the simplest basswork possible. It even crashes like Maxwell's Silver Hammer. Sweetie Little Jean punches piano keys behind a very limericky cadence for the lyrics. Tambourines and boilerplate drumlines punctuate just a bit too on the nose, again all as we remember it was. If Matt Schultz sounded more like any one of the quartet, I am confident people would actually ask what Beatles album these songs are from.

One of the big benefits of simplicity is an aire of melancholy, and boy is that embraced here. Too Late To Say Goodbye gets right to the point, hitting the more painful side of that melancholy in its discussion of getting burned. Cold Cold Cold could be their next big hit, with a very fun cadence and playful lyrical construction. "Doctor can you help me, 'cause something don't feel right" might be the most classic lyric on the whole album. Trouble is my personal favorite, never quite dipping into silliness despite turning weariness up to 11 and even making a cheeky self reference (You know what they say, yeah, the wicked get no rest). On the other side of that melancholy, we have That's Right, a great juxtoposition of happy music despite all the poor decisions the lyrics describe.

Exploring the era wouldn't be complete without a few simple staple topics, like the "describe the girl" trope on Punching Bag. Portuguese Knife Fight might even be plagiarized--that's how accurate it sounds. I don't even mind all the oohs and aahs across the svelte 10 tracks, and even applaud them on Mess Around. This is, however, the slightly more modern influenced side of the musical inspirations. Every once in a while, a bluesy riff jumps in, reminding you that Dan Auerbach is handling the producing here. It's not a problem, though, as I can't expect Auerbach to be able to tear himself away from his own Black Keys sound--he's just made far too much music in that genre to undo that muscle memory. It's just another reminder that Auerbach is really good at what he does, and that he still has the flexibility to hide those tendencies when necessary.

I think this is quite an achievement for this band. We may not have needed a reminder that people still love Hey Jude, but so often we hear covers of old music. This set of songs proves that's really unnecessary to do, even if the licensing will prevent it. Progress in music has given us constant new standards to achieve, and there's a lot of bands that still can't get the foundations right. Maybe if they all tried to do projects like this, they'd have better material. 

The unfortunate flipside of this is that CTG can't continue down this road; this is an album strictly for fans of the group and fans of old rock. To make a second album in this method wouldn't gain them fans, and current fans would tire of the detour. There's also just nothing new here. Even 10 tracks is long enough for the group to run out of topics, with no less than 3 women described via personality. Aaaaaaaand....come on. You're comparing to the Beatles. Nobody in their right mind want's to invite that.

I don't find it to be much of an issue, though, because everything is still really good. This is easily my favorite record of theirs, and one I think everyone should listen to. It's hard not to apply every lyric to your own life and connect to the sentiments. The bluntness ends up being its own form of obfuscation. Best of all, no track sounds like it would have been better with more sophisticated production, recording, or songwriting. Every chorus has the potential to stick in your brain.

8/10