Mumford and co dazzle in a show of contradictions
Mumford & Sons 3 Arena, Dublin
Life has come full circle for Mumford & Sons. The stadium banjo bashers started out playing folk clubs and pubs and, on their new tour, are attempting to recreate the intimacy of their formative years with an “in the round” stage.
Alas, the logistical requirements of a 50-date arena jaunt means the set-up is more “in the rectangle”. A prow-like set divided the floor, with stepped daises at either end suggesting pirate ships crashing into one another. Occasionally huge sci-fi lights descended ominously, as if the band were about to be nobbled by Transformer robots. In the current pop arms race to deliver the most mind-blowing concert experience, the kindest that could be said for the production is that it was original.
The first night of the tour coincided with the release of the Londoners’ fourth album. Delta is a return to the folk motherlode that finds Mumford & Sons making peace with what they’re best at: homespun, semi-acoustic pop surfing crests of earnestness (to which is added a smattering of electronics, presumably to demonstrate they’re keeping up with the times).
With the foursome in the centre of the crowd playing their feel-good new single Guiding Light, you felt they were in their element. Later, they assembled in a circle on one of the platforms for a stripped-down Ghosts That We Knew – a bid for arena intimacy pulled off affectingly.
One thing Mumford & Sons don’t get enough credit for is bringing people together. Critics are more or less united in their derision – as are their fellow rock stars, with Alice Cooper and Liam Gallagher among those merrily lobbing brickbats.
The only ones not to join in the ritualised chucking of rotten vegetables are the record-buying masses, who flocked to Mumford & Sons early on and have remained steadfast. Yet just nine years on from their debut LP, the group are already in that arguably unfortunate position where it’s the oldies, above all, that send their audience into raptures.
This was made clear as Mumford and his chums, wearing scampish grins, plunged into twanging 2010 epic The Cave. Suddenly the bar queues evaporated and the natterers at the back were on their feet whooping. Should it worry them that their later material does not come anywhere near evoking the same fervour?
As arena stars, Mumford & Sons will always be an aberration: a metropolitan folk band whose passion for old-timey facial hair and mandolin solos has won an international following. But up close and personal, there were moments when these contradictions made perfect sense. Even as the dystopian lighting rig did its best to distract, it was the music that truly dazzled.
Touring until Dec 2. Tickets: mumfordandsons.com