What is it about music that draws us all in? Why is it something we all love? Is it the tones, the actual sounds themselves, that come from the myriad of instruments played, from the harmonies in duos and groups, or even from the sound of a singular voice? Or is it the lyrics that put words to our own thoughts and emotions, words we’re afraid to say but find so comforting when someone else has put them to music and voiced them? Is it that in the combination of the music and lyrics we find ourselves feeling less alone, because someone is singing out what we too have felt but didn’t know how to explain, and they do so in a way that makes it beautiful?
I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of days. Rachel and I went to the Mumford and Sons concert last Tuesday night. Mumford and Sons have been, hands down, my favorite band this year. For at least the first 6 months of the year, I listened to the album every other day, or more. And in the months since, not a week has gone by that it hasn’t played in this apartment. It’s playing right now, as I type this. If a person can be addicted to a voice, a band, an album, I am officially an addict. It could potentially be said that I hear Marcus Mumford’s voice in my dreams.
There are few artists that could draw me out to an arena concert these days. I am much more comfortable in the smaller, intimate venues where I’ve seen so many shows over the last couple of years. But I would have gone to any venue to see Mumford and Sons, and they have gotten so big this last year that the arena is probably the only place in Portland they can play. It also happened to be their largest show yet in the U.S.
I could have done without the first opening band. The second was better, but I currently can’t remember their name. Really I just wanted them to get off the stage so that Mumford and Sons could take it.
And then they finally did. Almost a full year of my obsession, and they are finally standing live in front of me, about to perform one of the absolute best concerts I’ve ever seen. From the second they started playing, I was entranced. I don’t know how they managed to be both mellow and energetic at the same time, but they did. They played a mix of songs from the current album that has done so well, and new songs that are going on the album they are currently working on. Every song was perfect, whether it was a favorite or something I’d not yet heard. Their use of color and light was remarkable. They are ridiculously talented on a host of different instruments, but I believe it is their lyrics that have drawn so many people in. They write and sing of hurt, anger, longing, hope, love, desire, and fear in ways that I don’t think many musicians have been able to achieve. Or at least not achieved in perfect 3 and 4 part all male harmony. They told stories: about their day in Portland; their humble beginnings; and how they never thought they’d be a band on tour, much less playing where the Portland Trailblazers play basketball. I, along with a few thousand other people, was completely spellbound for an hour and a half. No, actually longer than that. We didn’t leave it all behind in the arena when we left there. It has stayed with me for days. It was the kind of show that has now set the bar for all large event concerts, and I have a feeling will rarely be matched.
The answer to the questions I posed at the start of this post is simply: Yes. For Mumford and Sons, it is all of the above. It is both Marcus Mumford’s voice and the blend of all of their voices. It is their extraordinary musical talent. It is the power in their words, and the notes and sounds they choose to express them. It is all of it, and it feels as if they are conveying the very cries of my own heart when they sing. Go on home Mumford and Sons, and finish the next album. I’m anxiously awaiting its arrival.
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