By
Jesse Kornbluth
Published: Apr 25, 2011
Category:
Rock
Christina’s evening ritual is to lie on the floor of her sons’ room until they fall asleep.
The other night, she plugged herself into her iPod and listened to three songs she’d just discovered.
“The next thing I knew.” she wrote me, “I was totally transported to that other place that music can also bring me, occasionally. Not the past but the present and the future. It is music that inspires. In fact, new music that inspires. Rare? Very. Now I cannot wait for morning to go out walking. I want to walk alone, I want to play each song over and over and let them carry me somewhere new. When this happens, I hold my head higher, I walk with a certain gait, and I feel like I am on the brink of something great.”
I ask you: When a friend sends you a note that strong, would you ignore it?
Thirty seconds later, I was on YouTube, teeing up the music of Mumford & Sons, starting with a song called “Little Lion Man.”
Christina’s new obsession was not exactly subterranean — that song had 21,500,000 views.
I hit play. Four Brits in their early 20s appeared. All played acoustic instruments. Lead singer Marcus Mumford — the one who looks like Ricky Gervais’s cousin — began to play an acoustic guitar. He also had a foot-driven bass drum in front of him. And a foot-generated tambourine. A busy man.
Some insistent strumming. A boot pounded on a wood stage. And then began the greatest song David Gray never wrote:
Weep for yourself, my man,
You’ll never be what is in your heart
Weep little lion man,
You’re not as brave
as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems
that you made in your own head
But it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn’t I, my dear?
I moved on to “The Cave.” A mere 7,500,000 views on YouTube. This one was like an English sea chanty, banjo flashing, the attitude all youthful assertion and defiance. And these core lyrics, fairly shouted:
So make your siren’s call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say
Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it’s meant to be
And I will hold on hope
And I won’t let you choke
On the noose around your neck
And I’ll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I’ll know my name as it’s called again
Heart pounding now. One song to go on my must-hear list. “White Blank Page.” This one has only 3,000,000 views. Filmed in a book store. Slow. Stately. Transiting to passionate. And how’s this for heartbreaking:
Can you lie next to her
And give her your heart, your heart
As well as your body
And can you lie next to her
And confess your love, your love
As well as your folly
And can you kneel before the king
And say I’m clean, I’m clean
But tell me now, where was my fault
In loving you with my whole heart
If you’ve been clicking as you go along, everything from here on is superfluous. This is what you urgently must know: To buy the CD from Amazon (for just $9), click here. For the MP3 download (just $6.99), click here.
If you still need convincing, please consider this: “Sigh No More” — the title is from Shakespeare’s “Much Ado About Nothing” — is the band’s first release. They’re hugely popular in England, where they burst out of a tiny folk scene. Their producer also did Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible— which explains how simple songs can become incendiary anthems. And despite the fact that you don’t know about Mumford & Sons — it’s one of those NPR/college radio discoveries — this 2010 release has sold 645,000 copies in the United States and is near the top of the Amazon rankings.
In short, we’re late to this party.
No matter. We’re here now. And we have the evidence spread out before us: This is fabulous soul music for hard times — Christina’s not the only one who hears these as marching songs.
I understand the objection: Banjo? String bass? Folk music/country/bluegrass? Yes. Me too. And I understand the meta-objection to these kinda posh public school kids getting famous with music that’s more nostalgic than cutting edge. To quote a London reviewer:
As with politicians and the “change” word, Marcus Mumford thinks that if he sings about “heart”, “purity” and “passion” enough, some of these may rub off. They don’t. And while Sigh No More contains catchy tunes, the overwhelming impression is of young Londoners making a bizarrely Irish-sounding record while desperately wanting to be the Fleet Foxes.
In the end, no contest. I’m with the commenter on YouTube:
I do not like this type of music….. I do not like this kind of music…. I do not like this style of music…… this is amazing, what a great band.
