Mumford and Sons live review Huddersfield June 2 2012
Gentleman of the Road presents Huddersfield Stopover with Mumford and Sons, Willy Mason, The Correspondents at Greenhead Park Huddersfield June 2, 2012. Gentleman of the Road Review of Mumford and Sons first show of the tour
Huddersfield is town widely known for its hospitality, benevolent and friendly folks, and great atmosphere. But, the day of the Gentlemen of the Road mini-festival, the smallWest Yorkshire town did not present itself in its most welcoming light. The cold rainy day passed in the presence of artists such as Willy Mason, Michael Kiwanuka, and Nathaniel Rateliff. Musicians that, although, not shining with originality, possessed some charm in their music that worked in perfect harmony with the gloomy weather.
The first impression Willy Mason leaves in you with his simple black suit, short sentences, and words so heavy that can instantly make you feel small and insignificant, is of an arrogant American guy, who seems full of himself. However, by the third song, “Talk Me Down”, that veil had dropped and the sarcastic shouts of the crowd had seized; the audience, standing silent and completely absorbed by the world that Mason was creating for them. Sam Mason, a skinny boy with long curly hair, completed his brother perfectly on stage. His drumming, compounded of slow gentle movements, very much reminded of Russel Hobbs’ cartoon character (Gorillaz’s drummer). The band looked, as if, composed of statues, not human beings, and have merged with the music to such extent that you could not distinguish where the man finished and the art began.
“Stop buying food, get out of the toilet and welcome Mumford and Sons,” shoutedHuddersfield’s town crier, who throughout the day was greeted with either indifference or boos. This time, however, he found the magic words that drew the attention of all those, who seemed to have spent the day rather queuing than listening to what was provided for them.
England loves Mumford and Sons and under the screams and cheers of hundreds of fans the gig was opened with “Lover’s Eyes” and slowly started building up the emotional charge followed by “Roll Away Your Stone” and “Winter Winds”. People were jumping in unison, following every beat and singing along to each song, and even those standing in the very last rows, who usually seem separated from all the fuss, were now firmly holding their ground, dancing no less than those at the front.
Throughout the 45 minute set Marcus Mumford’s voice was unfolded in its full might and potential. The songs were delivered with almost perfect performance, carrying the intrinsic energy and atmosphere of the album. The only flaw one might find was that the band followed the recorded version of the songs so close, at moments, as if to the last note.
Besides songs from Sigh No More, “Bellow My Feet” and “Lover of the Light” were just two of the tracks that touched upon what we should be expecting from the upcoming album. If you’re one of those thrilled with expectation for the release in September, don’t hold your breath, because from what we’ve heard tonight, Mumford and Sons seem to have been dwelling in their already established sound a little bit too much. The songs sounded painfully familiar, less upbeat or interesting and did not leave a promise to outshine their predecessors.
When it comes to bands, quarrels for the leader spot, the one that all attention revolves around, are inevitable. In Mumford and Sons case, when one might thing Marcus Mumford would be at the forefront of the band, it was a surprise for us to see that Ben Lovett had taken the weight of being the entertainer on his shoulders. His light and pleasant nature was the bridge between the audience and the stage, while the rest of the band seemed too occupied in changing or tuning their instruments.
It wasn’t until the thirteenth song, “Dust Bowl Dance”, when the rest of the Mumfords finally joined the audience in their one night celebration. Until that moment, swaying to the rhythm of the songs was all they could give, besides Lovett who was not sparing his zip. Thus, the sudden outburst of emotion in the remaining members came as an explosion, producing the most honest and moving performance from the night. The next two songs, “Sigh No More” and “The Cave”, reinforced by sparkling lights and lantern shaped lamps, created a magical atmosphere that left a sweet taste after the bitter beginning.
Left with a feeling of satisfaction and subtle disappointment that The Correspondents did not perform, I was ready to go home, yielding to the weariness too quick.
“We love you Mr. Bruce,” was shouting the girl next to me, her boyfriend awkwardly hanging around. Winners of the Telegraph’s “Top Ten Highlights of Glastonbury” two years in a row, Mr. Bruce and Chucks put a show that overshadowed and charged the audience the way none of the previous bands did. Finally, there was an explanation what was sucking out our energy all day long. Mr. Bruce seemed to have gathered plenty; alive with vigor he was now radiating and infecting those of us who had stayed to watch him. Energetic and vivacious, kind of crazy, and charmingly bizarre, The Correspondents, struck us as being down to earth, and awfully sincere. The rain, the cold, the numbness in the feet, that piercing pain in the back, was all paid off and Mr. Bruce managed to put a smile even on the faces of those middle-aged parents who had stayed with their teenage children till the end.
Charged with positive emotions and a few new dance moves to try, I headed home, with an irksome question inevitably creeping in my mind. Did Mumford and Sons deserve paying 50 quid to see them play? No, tonight, they didn’t.