Few would dispute that Brit import Mumford & Sons’ debut album, Sigh No More, was short of folk-rock revival brilliance. The 2009 release was an awakening; devoid of thick, glitzy bass beats or auto-tuned electro-crooning, the London-based quartet turned back the clock to a simpler time, and earned six Grammy nods in doing so.
Two years later, lead vocalist and guitarist Marcus Mumford, bassist Ted Dwane, keyboardist Ben Lovett, and banjoist “Country” Winston Marshall have done it again with their follow-up record, Babel. The rootsy, authentic elements that saw Sigh No More receive critical acclaim across the globe remain ever present, yet the crew seems to have honed their craft in the past two years. The result is an even more succinct, punchy and wholesome record.
Sticking with producer Markus Dravs, who produced their previous studio effort, M & S seem to have developed a unique sound for the new record. Heavier-hitting and gutsier, the tunes drip with tonal superiority and raw acoustic power, building on the foundation they expertly constructed in their studio debut.
A rare jewel in modern music, Marcus Mumford is as contrite and brooding as he is inspiring and uplifting. He might be considered a madman in what passes for the music industry today, as he offers his most naked, sincere musings for the world to view. The raw honesty and passion evident in his lyricism is breath-takingly refreshing. “Press my nose up to the glass around your heart/I should’ve known I was weaker from the start,” Mumford laments on the titular opening track.
“Holland Road” is of particular note; a full horn section featured later in the song gives full flesh to the breath-taking climax. “I wished you well as you cut me down,” rages Mumford on the track. The track, as so many remarkably are, is a total spiritual eclipse, and is a fine example of some of the strongest writers music has seen in the past decade.
Later in the mix lies “Below My Feet,” a superbly beautiful and moving number; the anthemic chorus will no doubt find many glassy-eyed fans belting along with Mumford as he bellows, “Keep the earth below my feet/For all my sweat, my blood runs weak/Let me learn from what I have seen.
Mumford’s voice reaches new heights on Babel; his range seems broader, and his voice even more powerful and ballsy. He hoots and hollers and lets his voice’s unbridled strength take the spotlight.
“Reminder,” a product of a rushed, unorthodox writing session, proves to be one of the most profound and mesmerizing tracks. A short, poignant breath of fresh air from the album’s rollicking, stomp-and-clap anthems, it strikes a soft yet strong note on the album.
M&S explore a vast spectrum of emotion on the record. “Broken Crown,” regardless of the listener, relates deepest feelings of shame and regret. Mumford’s introspective, poetic lyrics, paired with his raspy, powerful voice send chills down the spine. Time and time again, he proves his complex, intricate grasp of human emotion, and his ability to translate that into a master craft.
The deluxe version of the album includes three extra songs, including one fronted by Lovett, as well as a delightful rendition Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Boxer.” This trio of bonus tracks is well worth the extra few dollars.
Where Sign No More has passed the torch, Babel receives it gracefully, and runs on very able feet. To reproduce the success of such a universally loved album is no easy feat, yet Mumford & Sons have proved their prowess, with no end in sight. Babel is an incredible journey, and a thoroughly sound, tight record. The boys storming out of west London have done it again.
