Sigh No More…coz you’ll be breathless

Album: Sigh No More
Artist: Mumford & Sons www.mumfordandsons.com
Label: Island, Glassnote (US)
Release date: 5 October 2009
Peak chart position/sales: (AUS) 1, 2x Platinum (UK) 3, 3x Platinum (US) 2, Gold


RATING: 3.5/5 stars.

As the average person would no doubt figure out, there is no way Marcus Mumford is the father of any of his band mates – but it’s a rustic, family association of a name and lends an air of authenticity to this London folk rock four-piece, fitting the “in the family” image of the folk genre. Recognised alongside Laura Marling, Noah And The Whale and Johnny Flynn as the forerunners of the London folk movement, the four young men that make up Mumford & Sons have already established themselves an enthusiastic fan base and snatched the Best British Album Award at the BRITs with this, their debut album. In case you haven’t noticed, folk is no longer about old men twanging ancient banjos.

All the same, I have to admit I didn’t expect quite so much full-blast energy. This is not the kind of album that handles you gently, for all its elegant lyricism and folky fingerpicking. It dances around for a few seconds before punching you in the face, picking you up, throwing you down, grabbing your heart, tearing you up and then reassembling you just as the last note dies away. The sort of music that sparks so much energy you probably burn calories just listening to it. Excited yet?

Sigh No More opens with its title track, a breathtaking gospel-choir-style chorus of harmonies which builds into a jangling rush of banjo, thumping beats and lead singer Marcus Mumford’s throaty, raw vocals which you want to cheer on till the end. Similarly upbeat followers “The Cave” and “Winter Winds” provide a follow-up punch before the rage-filled post-break-up ode “White Blank Page” ups the angst factor in a stunning tirade of heartache. Mumford & Sons have a distinctive arrangement, layering a powerful mix of banjo, guitar, mandolin, double bass, accordion, keyboard and occasional brass lines (“Winter Winds”) that never fails to create a pulsing energy and thrilling drive. Mumford’s lyrics, while at times a little clunky, mostly hold up their end quite admirably on this album, drawing on subject matter from romance/failed romance/confused romance to a naive but heartfelt spirituality which permeates “Sigh No More” (“There is a design/ An alignment”) as well as later tracks “I Gave You All” and “Timshel”.

It is not until “Little Lion Man” however – the centrepiece of the album – that the true meaning of adrenalin is realised as M&S pull out every stop, from the impossibly catchy guitar jangle, to the dramatic acapella break just before the explosion of climactic (mostly banjo) madness, to the blatant profanity that provides a minor social taboo stumbling block in a chorus that begs to be belted out at the top of one’s lungs, regardless of circumstance. Never before has ‘mind blown’ been such an accurate description of an album’s affect. ‘Amazing’ also comes to mind. But about halfway through this non-stop awesome I got…tired. The overwhelming earnestness, melodrama and Mumford’s heartfelt deliveries wore me out and I wished there was a bit of Villagers or Marling-like respite from the full-blown awesome. “Roll Away Your Stone” sounded like the answer to my need for a breather…but no, it erupts into spirited banjo and testosterone-fuelled guitar rhythms again, as do its fellows. Every quiet intro is a magnificent build-up, every chorus an excuse for wild banjo-playing and a hollering vocal, with only a couple of exceptions that teeter on the edge of musical TNT nonetheless. Eventually M&S dropped the ante with the quieter but menacing “Dustbowl” and the aptly titled “After The Storm”, leaving me feeling as though I’d been knocked off my feet and certainly without breath to sigh with (their purpose, I assume).

It is obvious that M&S are suckers for whacking on the big rock ‘moment’ and while they do it amazingly well (and I really mean amazingly), a creeping irritation at the lack of variety may develop. Not just because of the lack of emotional balance which is oh-so-important to a well-planned album, but because of the worrying thought – is this all they’ve got?



I’m sincerely hoping the answer is no. Mumford & Sons have an enthusiasm, personality and soul that will carry them far once they get used to this fame thing. The overwhelmingly wholehearted effort gave the impression of a young band running scared, pulling every bit of awesome out of their bag all at once so as not to fall short. They have yet to thoroughly convince me in the talent department, although “Timshel” already stands out as a gorgeous contrast and hopefully an inkling of where M&S may choose to explore now that they have success on their side. Sigh No More has made me want more of Mumford & Sons (much more!) but I also want improvement.

But for now let us palm off what is probably just the growing pains of a fledgling band and instead enjoy the epic proportions of an admirable debut album. This is another of those bands I heard about early, was lazy in researching/listening to, finally given the nudge by friends and now heartily wish I’d picked up earlier, before becoming a fan meant jumping on the bandwagon. But what the heck – this bandwagon is well worth the ride!




Is it worth my $$$? – My iPod now looks naked without this track listing on it – a situation which I intend to remedy shortly, funds permitting. However, if you weren’t entirely convinced (or repulsed), save your pennies for their next release – M&S may fill that room for improvement with a bundle more tricks that have yet to emerge from their manly rolled-up sleeves.


Listen to: Winter Winds, Little Lion Man, Timshel