Cage The Elephant: Fake Realities
Photo: Neil Krug
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On Jan. 5, 2023, Cage the Elephant frontman Matt Shultz hit rock bottom. And the experience ended up saving his life.
The Bowling Green, Ky.-bred singer—who has long emerged as one of his generation’s most dynamic frontmen—was staying at the chic Bowery Hotel, a downtown Manhattan hotspot, when an employee reportedly saw him enter the bathroom with a loaded gun. Shultz was detained and arrested for possessing firearms that he was only licensed to carry in Kentucky and Tennessee, where he currently lives; the singer eventually ended up avoiding jail time by pleading guilty to two felonies and one misdemeanor. The charismatic musician was also hospitalized and later came to learn that he had been experiencing medicine-induced psychosis for about three years.
“It was a godsend,” Shultz says of his 2023 arrest, which eventually led him on a path to becoming sober, remarrying his wife Eva—who he split with during his health crisis—and finally reaching a period of serenity. “Before that, there was no reasoning with me, and anyone who came to me with a concern became someone that I was afraid of. I thought that they could potentially be against me or whatever.”
During the period that preceded his arrest, Shultz explains, medicine he was prescribed by a doctor actually led him to have “psychotic delusions” that he was being followed and poisoned—hence his decision to carry a loaded weapon. And his eventual arrest arrived at the tail end of an already strange-and-impactful few years for all touring musicians coming out of the COVID-19-necessitated Great Pause. Shultz’s trauma was even further magnified by the death of his father during the pandemic.
As he tracks an incredibly difficult and, in many ways, surreal few years, Schultz is at home in Nashville, preparing to tour behind Cage the Elephant’s sixth LP and first since 2019, the John Hill-produced Neon Pill. The ensemble—which also includes the singer’s older brother Brad Shultz on rhythm guitar and keyboards, Daniel Tichenor on backing vocals, Jared Champion on drums and percussion, Nick Bockrath on lead guitar and keyboards, and Matthan Minster on keyboards and rhythm guitar—began working on the set over three years ago and continued recording the material as Shultz was experiencing and, eventually, recovering from psychosis.
“We started getting together in early 2021 and doing some writing and recording at Battle Tapes Recording in Nashville, and then, in April, we all went to Echo Mountain in Asheville, N.C.,” Bockrath, who joined the group in 2017, says. “Aside from the Battle Tapes sessions, that was the first time we had all been together and certainly the first time we’d traveled together. We rented a van, packed some gear up and all drove together and stayed at an Airbnb. And we got a lot of good stuff done. ‘Rainbow,’ on the new album, is from that initial Asheville session. It felt good to not be quarantining at the house and to get back to some normalcy. We usually keep it tight to just us and whoever is working on the record anyway, so it wasn’t too different, aside from testing before we all got together.”
“That was a really short stint—like a week—and then we had a pretty large break in between there and Electric Lady Studios,” Matt explains of their North Carolina summit. “Then, after we did some work at Electric Lady, the next time we went into the studio, which was at Sonic Ranch in El Paso, Texas, was after I was well into my recovery. And then we did some work at John Hill’s studio in LA, and we finished the album at the Sound Emporium here in Nashville.”
Like all of Cage the Elephant’s best work, the resulting set is a punky, kaleidoscopic mix of rock-and-roll sounds tailor-made for the big, festival-style stages that the outfit has grown into over the years. It is also a document of Matt’s mental-health struggles at a time when he found himself somewhat detached from the music he was making.
“It was healing for all of us to see Matt back in a healthy place,” Bockrath says of the final sessions, which took place after the singer’s arrest. “He was able to be vulnerable and access his heart again. It was night and day—truly a blessing—and I’m excited for the road ahead.”
Now sober and grounded, and with his mental health issues behind him, Matt and the band are about to hit the road for a massive string of summer and fall dates—balancing the choice multi-band bookings that have long been their calling card with more traditional amphitheater dates. The group will also headline New York’s Madison Square Garden for the first time in September, a far cry from the bars where they made their name. It’s also a fun juxtaposition with Bockrath’s first New York gig of the year—an all-improv jam alongside Phish bassist Mike Gordon, Greyboy Allstars keyboardist Robert Walter, and Joe Russo’s Almost Dead drummer and namesake Joe Russo at the Turkish restaurant/club The Sultan Room.
“Joe has been a friend of mine for 15-plus years now,” the guitarist gushes. “We used to play in Tom Hamilton’s American Babies together, and that lineup is now basically JRAD, who I’ve also sat in with. And we also played some fun gigs together at Brooklyn Bowl with [the Kentucky-bred psych-rock band] Morning Teleportation back in the day. Joe was in Nashville recently. He stopped by to meet my daughter and asked if I’d be into doing one of his This Is Gonna Be a Blast! shows, where he gets these amazing lineups together to play fully improvised sets. Nothing was planned at all—just show up and use your ears. I used to play a lot of improv and jazz gigs, so I was excited to get to do that again and with such titans. The chemistry was really amazing—they are all such brilliant and fearless players.”
While fully rooted in the modern-rock tunes Matt and his bandmates have been churning out since forming nearly 20 years ago, Cage the Elephant have nurtured a jamband-like following of their own, harnessing their crowd’s energy to deliver a full-throttle, unifying performance. “Mentally, I don’t have to do much preparation because it is a communal experience and the audience brings so much to that experience,” Matt says, as he gears up to rehearse for his group’s return to Manchester, Tenn.’s Bonnaroo. “So if there’s any preparation going on, it’s just maybe an eagerness. I’m excited to get back to it, to be back with the audience and have those experiences again.”
It’s been five years since Cage the Elephant has released an album. You have weathered a lot of life during that period, between the pandemic, the death of your father and your health issues. Did you find that writing during that difficult but indelible period helped you cope with all that you were going through?
MATT SCHULTZ: The pandemic hit and quarantine began in March 2020 and then we started working on material in September of that year. We did the whole COVID-testing thing every day, all the way through, until quarantine was lifted. And then, sadly, for myself, that was pretty much the entire timeline for when the medication started to have very adverse effects for me. That happened in about May of that year. I don’t know if I can remember a time when things really changed for me, as far as how I was perceiving reality, but that continued through the entire course of the pandemic and then for an additional year and a half. All in all, it was a really long period of time to have lost touch with reality.
It was, obviously, horrifying—it was terrible—but we were writing material the entire time. That was one of the things that was a saving grace, for myself, as far as just keeping me here. I don’t know what I would have done had I not been working on music. How long were you on that medicine before it started having adverse effects on your psyche?
MS: I’d been on it for almost a year, and I started to have complications early on. I noticed it impacted my personality and changed things in an adverse way—in a negative way—but it didn’t truly impact my life the way that it ultimately did until about a year in.
To be honest, the entire experience of being in psychosis was terrible from top to bottom. So making music, at that time, gave a little bit of purpose to it all. And one of the only good things is that, once I came out of psychosis, I had something to work off of [and that became Neon Pill]. It was a pretty interesting experience, not necessarily deciphering what I was trying to communicate but trying to decipher the sentiment because, whatever narratives I was entertaining at the time, while I was in psychosis, had no real basis in reality. For many of the songs, I had to just find whatever emotive quality was within the track or figure out what I was trying to express emotionally. That definitely made the record a bit more of an emotional album.
Neon Pill is certainly an emotional record but, as its title suggests, there is also a colorful, energetic quality to the songs at times.
MS: Yeah, not all of the songs, but some of the tracks—because I was in such bad shape—the band would demo quite extensively, and then they’d send me stuff whenever I could get to it. Maybe that’s one of the reasons that the music still has this uplifting feeling.
Your older brother Brad is a member of Cage the Elephant and you have developed a close bond with the rest of the band during the past 18 years. How aware were they of your mental health struggles during the making of Neon Pill, and did they offer any particularly helpful guidance or support?
MS: They were in my life the entire time that I was going through that and everyone in the band—across the board— said things to me at different times, but no one was super pushy about it. They never made me feel like there was something wrong with me, which I’m very thankful for, and I know that must’ve been extremely difficult for them because I was really struggling. It would have been easy for any one of the guys to get frustrated with me, but that’s not what they did. And then, upon me getting the medical help I needed—getting well into my recovery—they welcomed me back to the group with open arms. And it’s tough because there’s no book on how to deal with psychosis, as far as when someone in your life is struggling the way that I was—how to engage with that person. But I think they did a terrific job, considering the circumstances, for sure.
In addition to weathering the pandemic and psychosis, you and Brad lost your father during the making of Neon Pill. Did his presence find its way into the music?
MS: It definitely found its way into the emotive qualities of the album and affected the material. Anytime you go through something like that, it’s pretty necessary to express some of the deep groans of the heart. Also, my father was a singer[1]songwriter himself, and we grew up with him making music our entire lives. It’s funny—you spend your entire life trying not to be like your parents, and everything they do in your eyes can be a little embarrassing, and then, after he passed, we were deeply inspired by his music. I think my father’s music was brilliant. We were inspired by his music while he was living as well, obviously, but we wanted to pay some homage to him on this record. It was a deeply personal experience for sure, and it probably made the material on the record even more personal.
In January 2023, you were arrested at the Bowery Hotel, in downtown Manhattan, for possessing two loaded guns. When the police searched your room, they also found handwritten notes, one of which said, “I will protect myself if I am attacked.” How much of that incident do you remember?
MS: Pretty much everything that happened. It took place when I was very sick, but I remember it crystal clear—I remember what happened and how it happened, but I don’t relate at all to my mode of thinking at the time. So there’s this huge disconnect where I clearly remember things that were happening—I remember what I was doing, I remember how things happened and I remember how things played out. However, I don’t really connect to where I was in my thinking. But as far as speaking to that event, it saved my life. Had that not happened, I’m pretty confident I wouldn’t be here today, or it wouldn’t be long until I wasn’t here. I was unreachable. It was very difficult. So it was a really terrible situation to be in, but it was also a godsend. It was the only type of scenario that would grab my attention in that way, and it was necessary for me to receive the medical care that I needed. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened?
Can you talk a little bit about your recovery? You were hospitalized for a while, went through the court system and have since been able to patch things up in your personal life.
MS: I was hospitalized for two months, and during those two months, I completely titrated off of all medications. And then I did six months of outpatient therapy in New York, and it’s been really good—a night and day difference. I don’t want to call it amazing because the whole situation wasn’t amazing by any means, but things are going tremendously well. It’s definitely left a scar in my life, but it’s a scar I can live with. As humans, we’re constantly trying to make sense of what purpose something can serve in our lives, and as far as a purpose in my life now, it gave me a perspective on this type of current. Prior to this, it would have been easy to not acknowledge it, to not understand the gravity of what something like that is.
But living through it, I definitely, inherently have a deeper compassion for anyone who’s going through something like this, or who has gone through something like this, and I mean that on many different levels. Because it’s not just the challenge of being hypervigilant and dealing with paranoia and delusions—that’s a beast of its own—but also alienation in general and the deep sadness that comes along with that. I don’t want to be like, “I learned so much,” but I definitely have a different perspective for sure.
For the second album in a row, you recruited John Hill to sit at the helm as a producer. How did he help navigate the sessions, given all that you were going through?
MS: In the same way that the guys in the band were nothing but supportive, so was John. He reached out many times [when I was sick] and, when I started my recovery, he reached out again. John’s a terrific human being, an amazing friend. And then as far as his impact on the record, first off, John’s musical knowledge is extremely deep, and he’s well-versed. It’s not one of those things where you even need to provide a reference point for something— he can usually contextualize something pretty instantaneously, which is really great. And one of John’s superpowers is his ability to remain unaffected unless he’s genuinely affected by something. He doesn’t give praise unless it’s warranted; he’s not excited unless he’s actually excited. If you’re showing him an idea, and you get no reaction, you know it’s probably not a good one. But if you get him to raise his eyebrows, then you know that you might be onto something. And one of the things that I love about John is that he’s not going to steer you in the wrong direction, he’s always going to be open and honest, and he really knows how to trust and follow his intuition, which is an incredible tool to have in the process of making a record.
Neon Pill was written mostly while you were experiencing psychosis, though some of it was completed while you were in recovery. How much of the album, either directly or indirectly, touches on your mental state at the time?
MS: It’s interesting because I was so immersed in my reality, but that reality was false. Yet it was something that I lived with every day. So, because of that, I did not necessarily write any songs directly about that experience. But, because a lot of the songs had been written while I was going through what I went through, inherently, the experience was already baked in, if that makes any sense. And one of the more interesting parts of the recording process was going back and not necessarily trying to decipher, but sort through what I was trying to communicate because I was entertaining so many different narratives that had no basis in reality. A lot of what I was writing felt profound and then, after [my arrest] and being in my recovery, it has lost its luster. It actually wasn’t profound at all—at least not to my actual reality. So I think a lot of what I had to do was find the emotive quality in the songs that I was reaching for at the time and then write from that place. Also, I’ve always loved writing from a third-person place—not a fictional viewpoint but telling stories where my own experience is intertwined. And, in a way, that gave me the vehicle I needed to express some of the things that happened without having to maybe directly live it over again too much.
You have long had the ability to make your personal experiences feel universal in your songs, and Cage has cultivated a dedicated community of fans and supporters who attend your shows to have a collective experience. How do you get into that mindset before a gig, especially when your shows have taken on such a communal, populist energy in recent years?
MS: With the live thing, what we try to do is prepare ourselves to create this perfect storm for everything to click. So as far as rehearsals, it’s just about repetition until everything becomes second nature. One of the things that I love about our performances is that it is a shared thing; it’s not really about performing.
Given that you were not in a state to perform live for so long, how do you feel that the new songs have started to adapt to your live show as you’ve begun to add them into rotation?
MS: It’s great—we started a while back because we did an LA underplay in May and then we played at the Hangout Music Festival right after that, so it’s starting to get dialed in for sure. We’ve been playing four songs so far. It’s funny because, earlier in our career, every time we made a record, half of the set was basically comprised of new material, but as the years have gone by, we’re like, “We can’t take these songs out of the set. We’ll play four new songs, that’s good enough.”
Bonnaroo is a festival that has meant a great deal to Cage as a band and to you personally. You’ve grown from small tents to big stages on The Farm and even participated in the signature SuperJam. This year, you scored a spot on the main What Stage directly before the Red Hot Chili Peppers. What was your first trip to that event like?
MS: The first time that I attended Bonnaroo as a concertgoer was in 2003. It was my senior year of high school or something. We went as campers, and we had an acoustic guitar and we walked around the festival grounds playing songs for whoever would listen to us. I remember someone said to us: “You should play this festival someday.” It’s become such a big part of our story. We went a few more times as concertgoers, just to appreciate the music, and then, in 2007, we played one of the small tents. And we just continued to go back. It’s been incredible. We’re very excited to be playing the slot we are playing and on the stage that we are playing. It’s pretty amazing actually.
Early on, we went for the experience. There was already quite a bit of folklore about Bonnaroo at that time, as a kid growing up in the area. It’s legendary, to say the least. Especially early on, one of the things I loved was going there and not necessarily going there for any particular artist. I was just going there for the discovery part of things, though Bob Dylan played the second time we went. It was amazing.
Circling back to your health, are you currently on any medications?
MS: I’m just going natural for now. I had no issues prior and no issues after.
Given all that you have been through in recent years, have you been inspired to write about your recent struggles and triumphs, especially now that there seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel?
MS: Well, it’s funny you should ask that because I definitely am already starting to write and think in that direction. With everything that happened and how long it transpired—the period of time being such a long ordeal—coming out on the other side, I’m already ready to start something new in a strange way. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more driven to get back into it as I am now, for obvious reasons, but I’m super excited and feeling good about making new music for sure.
