
Jesus is invoked above Edge-style guitar on “Below My Feet.” On “Whispers in the Dark,” Mumford declares an intention “to serve the Lord” over a Riverdance bounce. Babel is full of all manner of religious shoptalk, with Biblical metaphors swirling like detritus in a Christopher Nolan film. The fact that these guys are able to do big rock catharsis with humble tools is part of the thrill.īut it’s the band’s lyrics, and Mumford’s delivery, that define the album’s sound. See Babel‘s hymnlike first single, “ I Will Wait,” and “Lover of the Light” – both are proof that the Mumfords do dramatic builds, dropouts and soft-loud shifts as impressively as U2 or Skrillex. The songs lean toward the hooky folkfest stomps of tunes such as “Little Lion Man” and “The Cave,” whose beer-slosh melody and fist-pump dynamics branded Sigh No More.


It feels shinier, punchier, more arena-scale than the debut, with the band hollering, hooting, plucking and strumming like Olympian street buskers.

Soon, the band was backing Dylan on the Grammys, recording Kinks classics with Ray Davies and uncannily recalling the days when string bands like the Carter Family and the Louvin Brothers were radio gold.īabel steps up Mumford & Sons’ game without changing it too much. Sigh No More, the 2010 debut by Marcus Mumford and his London crew, is a set of rousing tunes clad in choirboy harmonies, clawhammer banjo and Salvation Army brass that exploded amid a sea of AutoTuned cyber-pop. It’s hard to imagine a more preposterous road to platinum success than the one Mumford & Sons traveled.
