I Quit My Job to See a Band I love
And it was worth it
I haven’t been to many concerts.
My first live show was in high school when I saw Lyle Lovett while volunteering at a venue in Rock Hill. In early 2019, I saw Yung Gravy with four close friends. I remember it fondly because Gravy wore my comically large hat while performing, and I somehow managed to lose my shirt.
In early 2023, I saw Weyes Blood while on a date. It was a lot of fun, even if we had to leave early because I passed out. That’s how I learned not to lock my knees at concerts. Those were the only three concerts I’d been to.
I’ve bought tickets to several shows, but plans always fell through. Last year, I decided not to see Pigeons Playing Ping Pong after my date backed out the day before the concert. I didn’t want to drive four hours to a city I’d never been to or drive four hours back home at night. Driving stopped being an issue later that year when my truck’s radiator exploded, costing me the chance to see Men I Trust after I’d bought tickets.
However, nothing compares to when I bought tickets to see Cage The Elephant with my best friend Rhys in 2019. I did not go, despite them being my favorite band, because my place of work said, “We really need you to come in, and if you go, you’re fired.”
I needed the money and was too scared to say no. So, I missed out.
I hated myself for that. I missed my favorite band because I didn’t have the stomach to stand up for myself. But, in February of this year, I saw Cage The Elephant was coming back to Charlotte. After Rhys told me what a phenomenal show it was, I promised myself I wouldn’t miss them again.
And I didn’t.
I was introduced to Cage The Elephant in high school. I was going through music on my mom’s computer, finding songs I wanted to put on my iPod, when a colorful skull made up of strange designs, surrounded by splashes of red, yellow, and blue caught my eye.
It was their debut, self-titled album. The only song I recognized was “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked,” as it was the opening and closing song in the game Borderlands. But, since I knew and liked the song, I figured the rest of the album was just as good and added it to the iPod.
It was better than I imagined. Their debut album played a really big role in helping me accept who I am and live as I want. I’ve talked a lot about how moving to the South was a rough experience since I did not “fit in.” The self-titled album helped ground me and remind me that I am my person and to be that person; fitting in isn’t worth it if it means not being true to yourself.
I downloaded their third album, Melophobia, when “Cigarette Daydreams” released in 2013. It’s their most popular album and is one of my all-time favorite albums, from the songs to the cover art. Melophobia was the album that really got me into the band, but I still told myself that Led Zeppelin and Bring Me The Horizon were my favorites.
Then, in 2015, Tell Me I’m Pretty was released and took the spot of my all-time favorite album. It grabbed me like their debut album had, but not for the same reasons. I loved how each song had a different feeling and sound to it, rather than each song having a “garage rock” sound, like their debut album. The “garage rock” sound attracted me to the band initially, but I enjoyed the other side of the band that the album showed.
Singer Matt Shultz said Tell Me I’m Pretty doesn’t have a song representing the whole album. Instead, he said he “never felt the responsibility to cater toward a specific sound that was ‘our personality,’ or whatever.”
“With this record, we wanted to be more transparent. We wanted to capture the sentiment of each song, and whatever emotional response it provoked, to be really honest to that.” — Matt Shultz on Unpeeled
I think Tell Me I’m Pretty is a good representation of the band and their overall sound; no single song on any of their albums says “This is Cage The Elephant.”
But Tell Me I’m Pretty represents them as a whole: a band with no specific sound that experiments with sounds while remaining true to itself.
In 2017, with the release of Unpeeled, an album featuring 21 acoustic versions of their most-loved songs and three covers, I knew they were my favorite band of all time. The debut of Unpeeled was the first “concert” I’d been to, if you can call it that. I think that played a huge role in their becoming my favorite band.
A little while before the album was released, Cage The Elephant hosted a celebratory pre-release party. It was a live show, aired on the radio for all to listen, and by some stroke of luck, I stumbled upon it while leaving work.
I turned on my car radio and tuned into my usual station, 99.7 The Fox, playing nothing but ads. Since I had a pretty rotten day, I wanted to listen to music, not another booming ad from Jay Gilstrap about his dealership. Annoyed, I turned to 106.5 The End, where the listening party was starting.
I took the longest possible way home to listen to each acoustic cover of their songs. They played “Back Against The Wall,” an all-time favorite to this day. They played “Shake Me Down,” “Cigarette Daydreams,” and the one I remember the most, probably because they played it last, “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked.”
As the last song ended, I turned onto the road my house sat on. I belted out every lyric, even though I was way off-key. I was in tears by the end of it all, and I knew at that moment only two things: They were my favorite band of all time, and I needed to see them live.
Despite that need to see them, I chose to go to work when I could. It was a stupid idea, too, since I returned to school a week later. However, I was too scared to bite the bullet and be fired for wanting to go to a concert on my day off. They “desperately” needed someone to fill in, and, like I keep saying, I didn’t have it in my heart to say no, nor did I realize they could not fire me had I said no.
I gave my ticket to Rhys’s girlfriend, and they went to the show together. He told me that I would have loved it, that they put on a really good show and had a really good setlist, and that he wished I had gone with him. He was upset I missed it not just because we were supposed to go together but because he knew how much I loved the band.
The present loves to rhyme with the past. When I bought tickets in February of this year, after ecstatically talking about how I would see them, a friend named Betsy said she’d love to go with me. So she got tickets. Everything was set in stone.
My bosses and coworkers at the summer camp I worked at knew about the concert. I told them at the start of the summer when it was, what time I would leave, and what time I’d be back. I never shut up about how excited I was to see them, how much I loved them, and how I waited five years for them to return. I always talked about how much the band and what their songs meant to me.
The camp director knew how excited I was, and I truly believe he was 98% on board with me going. The week of the concert, I reminded my bosses, and they hesitantly said, “We need to discuss it.” Two days later, they, or rather the scheduling person, had their answer.
“We really need you on Sunday,” she said. “You’re in-cabin this week. Sunday is move-in day, and we really can’t have you missing it. Parents want to meet their kids' counselors; plus, we need all the male staff we can get. This session has 48 boys, and we only have seven male staff, six if you go.”
I pleaded twice to let me go. “I’ll be back on the same night,” I told them, trying to change my plans to fit into their schedule. The second time I asked, they said they would discuss it again and see what they could do. But in their eyes, I saw the answer would not change. Still, I held out hope. That same evening, I received the same answer.
“Sunday night is when bonds are made with your campers. And we just really need you here.”
I sat in silence, staring at the ground for a good minute. If I didn’t go, I’d be out what was a significant amount of money to me, I’d be leaving my friend hanging, and most of all, I’d be missing my favorite band. Again.
I already knew my answer.
“Well, thank you for the opportunity. Should I pack up now or tomorrow?” I asked.
They asked me to sleep on it. I said I would, but I knew I didn’t need to. In the morning, they got the same answer. “I am going to see my favorite band. I’m not missing them again.”
Within an hour, my car was packed. I said my goodbyes, and I drove down to Betsy’s house to stay the night before we went to the concert.
Quitting my job to see Cage The Elephant was hands down one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Words cannot describe how much I loved it. Maybe the photos and videos Betsy took of me singing every song, jumping up and down as each song started, and drunkenly yelling, “I love this song!” could give an idea.
And I did love that song, the next one, and the one that followed. They opened with “Broken Boy,” as Shultz wheeled around the stage on a scooter. After the song, he explained that his foot was broken, hence the scooter, and maybe that’s why they opened with “Broken Boy.” I like to think that’s why they did. Either way, it was an incredible opening song, with flames shooting up around the band as they set the tone for the night.
What followed was a setlist of so many of my favorite songs by them, which doesn’t narrow anything down since Spotify has a heart next to more than half of their songs and all of their albums. I knew the words to every song, and everyone around me was very aware I knew the words.
By the end of it all, I had no voice.
I can’t even choose my favorite song that was performed. “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked” was incredible, with a wicked guitar solo I wouldn’t have heard had I not been there. “Come A Little Closer,” the song that made me start playing the bass, brought tears to my eyes. Seeing “Halo” performed live helped with a rather long healing process of coming to terms with wrongs I’ve done to someone I loved, and forgiving myself for that. Hearing her favorite song by the band performed live helped with self-forgiveness, though it did not solve everything. I think it’s one of those things that time has to heal.
“I wanted to write about something that you struggle with and battle to get away from, but I wanted to make it sound like it’s about a relationship, even though it’s not,” he said. “It’s about these vices that plague us. In the chorus, it says, ‘I lost my halo’ — I was thinking about that point in life where you feel you’re innocent… I don’t even know if you recognize it as innocent — you just don’t see your shortcomings. And then you fall on your face in a big way, and you realize that you look foolish.” — Matt Shultz on “Halo.”
The song is about Shultz’s heroin use, as he stated during Floatfest 2022. However, a bad relationship can be applied to the song, like he said, and is, without a doubt, applicable to how I did her. I pushed her away, and pulled her back in just as she got over me, and then repeated the process.
“Every time I get away
You find a way to reel me back in, ah
Tell me that you love me
Hold me tight so we can always be friends,” — “Halo,” Cage The Elephant
While listening to recorded versions of the songs has been integral to different healing processes and finding myself, hearing them live helped in ways I did not expect. It helped me accept what’s happened in my life recently and in the past. It was more impactful to hear “Skin and Bones,” “Ready To Let Go,” “Spiderhead,” and “Telescope” live rather than from a speaker. I felt as if I was able to release years of pent-up emotions.
Of course, just hearing and seeing my favorite band gave me a joy I don’t think I’ve felt before. I felt like I rediscovered the band all over again. I can still feel the thrill I felt and being able to release the excitement that’s carried me since February. I can’t describe how much seeing them meant and has done for me.
I don’t have the words to describe how it felt to be a part of something I have so desperately wanted to be a part of for so long. I’ve seen so many videos of the performance of “Cigarette Daydreams,” with Shultz pointing the mic at the crowd and the sea of people collectively singing;
“You can drive all night, looking for the answers in the pouring rain. You wanna find peace of mind, looking for the answers!” We all sang before Shultz picked up (and the sea of people continued) with, “If we can find a reason, a reason to change.”
I cried when all was said and done. I don’t regret quitting my job for a second because I will never forget the night of August 4, 2024.
Thank you to The Riff for publishing and you for taking the time to read!
