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Mumford & Sons: Sigh No More

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Island Records
Released: 2009.10.02
Time:
 52:39
Category: Folk Rock, Indie Folk
Producer(s): Markus Dravs
Rating:
Media type: CD
Web address: www.mumfordandsons.com
Appears with:
Purchase date: 2017
Price in €: 1,00





 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Sigh No More (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 3:27
[2] The Cave (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 3:37
[3] Winter Winds (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 3:39
[4] Roll Away Your Stone (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:23
[5] White Blank Page (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:14
[6] I Gave You All (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:20
[7] Little Lion Man (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:06
[8] Timshel (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 2:53
[9] Thistle & Weeds (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:49
[10] Awake My Soul (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:15
[11] Dust Bowl Dance (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:43
[12] After the Storm (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:03
[13] Hold On to What You Believe (T.Dwane/B.Lovett/M.Mumford/C.Marshall) - 4:06

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


Marcus Mumford - Vocals, Guitar, Drums, Mandolin
Winston Marshall (Country Winston) - Vocals, Banjo, Electric Banjo, Electric Guitar, Bass Guitar
Ben Lovett - Vocals, Keyboards, Organ, Accordion
Ted Dwane - Vocals, Double Bass, Bass Guitar, Drums

Nick Etwell - Trumpet, Flugelhorn
Pete Beachill - Trombone
Nell Catchpole - Violin, Viola
Christopher Allan - Cello
Markus Dravs - Producer, "A Nail And A Piano String"
Tom Hobden - Original String Parts on [5]

François Chevallier - Engineering
Samuel Navel - Assistant Engineering
Ruadhri Cushnan - Mixing
Bob Ludwig - Mastering
Max Knight - Photography
Adam Tudhope - Management

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


Recorded in 2008–2009 at the Eastcote Studios, London, UK.



English folk outfit Mumford & Sons' full-length debut owes more than a cursory nod to bands like the Waterboys, the Pogues, and the Men They Couldn’t Hang. The group's heady blend of biblical imagery, pastoral introspection, and raucous, pub-soaked heartache may be earnest to a fault, but when the wildly imperfect Sigh No More is firing on all cylinders, as is the case with stand-out cuts like "The Cave," "Winter Winds," and "Little Lion Man," it’s hard not to get swept up in the rapture. Like their London underground folk scene contemporaries Noah & the Whale, Johnny Flynn, and Laura Marling, Mumford & Sons' take on British folk is far from traditional. There's a deep vein of 21st century Americana that runs through the album, suggesting a healthy diet of Fleet Foxes, Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, Blitzen Trapper, and Marah. That melding of styles, along with some solid knob-twiddling from Arcade Fire/Coldplay producer Markus Dravs, helps to keep the record from completely sinking into the quicksand of its myriad slow numbers - tracks like "I Gave You All," "Thistle & Weeds," and "After the Storm" are pretty and plain enough, but they neuter a band this spirited. Sigh No More is an impressive debut, but one that impresses more for its promise of the future than it does its wildly inconsistent place in the present.

Rating: 3/5

James Christopher Monger - All Music Guide



Let’s not bother with too much of an introduction or prelude to Mumford & Sons’ debut, Sigh No More, and instead cut directly to the fundamental problems with the record. It’s dull. It’s limp. It lacks character. It has more than a little of the try-hard about it. Despite this, much will be picked and playlisted on the BIG radio stations across the land. Jo Whiley is kicking herself she can't hammer it to death every morning. Fearne Cotton probably will. They're even looking likely to surprise with a high-end chart position come the end of the week. Yet, there’s an appeal deep somewhere; this is almost an anomaly. This is not so much an irretrievable mess as... a salvageable one.

Now for the positives. What is done well – to a certain extent – on Sigh No More are not the epic faux-downs, with which we are overindulged, but the understated and bare-bones harmonious efforts. If you like your folk expansive (think Fleet Foxes...) you may well get a fair few kicks throughout the record's 48 minutes. They may be gentle kicks, but toe-pokes nonetheless. ‘Timshel’ is an exercise in the above practice – it being the most simplistic, least ambitious and most stripped-down thing to be found and, as a result, it stands out as the finest. ‘Thistle and Weeds’ too eschews the overpowering unity in favour of bleak, minor-key sparseness, to palpable effect. Sadly, annoyingly and frustratingly, other points such as the title track are watery in substance beyond redemption.

Although lacking in impact, the individual elements are not especially poor – songs are written and constructed well, the instrumentation is there or thereabouts, and variety exists. But when pieced together, part by part, it all becomes almost impenetrable, emotionally or musically.

The stumbling blocks which litter this record from start to finish are quite likely to be the same aspects and angles which some will find the most appealing. One irksome criticism from press and public alike is of the band’s upbringing. Too much has been made of the background – I am unable to comment, assumption being the mother of all fuckups and all - but, whatever the case, it’s a moot point, especially when there are greater problems.

This is not an attempt to undermine any fans Mumford & Sons may have, more a half-arsed dig at the situation at hand. Said situation is the perennial issue of a record being an 'acceptable' and clean version of the music that band/artist in question is said to be influenced by or are part of. In Mumford & Sons we’ve an act who are, at least ostensibly, a folk band but the comparison that somewhat clumsily pops into the head is Nickelback. Nickelback. Nickelback. Mumford & Sons seem to be to folk what Nickelback are to grunge. This thought is a constant thorn in this listener’s side, even through the record’s brighter moments, notably the anthemic ‘Little Lion Man’. The remainder, however, blends into a grey mess of acoustic guitars, brass, banjos and overwrought earnestness.

It may be the case that Marcus Mumford and co. recover astoundingly from a less-than-overwhelming debut with a release that is twice as good next time round. In fact, if they manage to tone it down by, say, around 15 per cent and reject the sparklingly clean niceness which abounds, it’s almost likely. This happened to fellow Brit-folkers Noah & The Whale, whose debut, Peaceful The World Lays Me Down has been exceeded significantly by this year’s The First Days Of Spring. That band too had radio appeal and acoustic guitars. Despite any popularity which may come their way, what Mumford & Sons have produced in Sigh No More is nothing more than an empty shell of a half-decent record.

Rating: 5/10

Luke Slater - October 8th, 2009
© 2000-2017 DROWNED IN SOUND



West London band's faux family business actually sounds like a business, one supplying value-added products at discount prices.

That band name derives from singer/guitarist Marcus Mumford, but the band members aren't actually his sons. Rather, it's a play at quaint family businesses run by real people in real small towns, trades passed down through generations: both independent (yes, as in indie) and commercial. It's a shallow cry of authenticity, but this West London quartet really does sound more like a business than a band, supplying value-added products at discount prices. Their debut, Sigh No More, is stocked with group harmonies straight from the Fleet Foxes warehouse, exaggerated earnestness on consignment from the Avett Brothers, some of the same rock "real"-ness that built the Kings of Leon brand, second-hand drama from that run on Keane a few years ago, and some insistent Gomez rusticisms gathering dust in the back room. It's not spot-the-influence if they're pushing them on you with a salesman's insistence.

Mumford & Sons take an emporium approach, with an inventory that's broad but never deep. By spreading their attention around so many different trends, they aim to do many things adequately-- perhaps to distract you from an inability to do any one thing especially well. They love big moments and acoustic instruments, so you might call what they do hoedown pop, although that might be giving them too much credit: Every hoedown on Sigh No More-- every rush of instruments in rhythmic and melodic lockstep-- conveys the same sense of hollow, self-aggrandizing drama. And they pull that shit on every track.

Among the predictable crescendos, there are some unexpected textures, mostly courtesy of some guy calling himself Country Winston playing banjo and dobro. And they contain hints of Celtic melodies in songs like "Roll Away Your Stone" and "Thistle & Weeds", like they might be trying to update Fairport Convention and Pentangle. But none of these ideas is fully developed or explored, the gestures fleeting at best.

For music that ostensibly prizes the appearance of honesty and confession, Sigh No More sounds surprisingly anonymous, giving a sense of the band as engaged music listeners but not as real people. Mumford paints himself a sensitive guy put upon by insensitive lovers: "Tell me now where was my fault in loving you with my whole heart," he whines on "White Blank Page", as the music swells and ebbs to exonerate him of any misdeed or misunderstanding. Worse is "Little Lion Man", which is already a hit in Britain but sounds overly self-absorbed in its insistent mea culpas, as if admitting wrongdoing is a noble gesture: "I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?"

When Mumford & Sons stray from their tales of romantic martyrdom, the results are actually worse. Late in the album, "Dust Bowl Dance" kicks up some American Gothic ambience with what sounds like the least believable stab at a murder ballad ever set to record. "I'll go out back and I'll get my gun," Mumford sings, like a man who had never handled a firearm in his life. "I said, 'You haven't met me, I am the only son.'" When the Sons' electric guitars finally kick in, the song descends from ill-advised to downright embarrassing. Live, it's probably their closer, but "Dust Bowl Dance" hints that Mumford & Sons are in the costume business. They're playing dress-up in threadbare clothes.

Rating: 2/10

Stephen M. Deusner - February 19 2010
The Pitchfork Review



With the heroically stomping folk songs on this winning debut, Marcus Mumford and his hale mates (who aren’t kin) employ the soft-to-loud strategy with more finesse than most plugged-in rockers. Reflecting on real love and cosmic truth in rousing tunes like “Roll Away Your Stone” and “I Gave You All,” these fired-up lads send their scruffy voices soaring over rough acoustic guitars, sparing banjo, piano, and brass. Thanks to a volatile mix of the uplifting and gloomy — there’s a bitter murder tale (“Dust Bowl Dance”) and lingering visions of death (“Timshel”) — Sigh No More transfixes.

Rating: 8/10

Jon Young - February 24, 2010
SPIN
 


Everyone knows what happens to the average human being when the brain isn’t fully engaged. It’s not so dissimilar to being drunk. Emotions overcome common sense, meaningful words seem illusive and most other words are fluffed. And actions have a cruel way of betraying true feelings.

No, there’s nothing particularly sophisticated about the average heart-on-sleeve soul. And there’s nothing particularly sophisticated about Sigh No More either. But it doesn’t seem to matter that much. While Mumford And Sons may not excel as urbane, multi-dimensional songsmiths, they succeed by virtue of their sheer, unabashed wholeheartedness.

And theirs is a wholehearted sound too. Bringing together virtually all of folk’s sub-genres, Mumford And Sons share The Low Anthem‘s predilection for tradition both in terms of instrumentation – there’s everything here from ukuleles to trumpets – and recording and production. This is the kind of record that’s likely to sound similarly raucous when played live. Moreover, it’s the type of music that sounds like it involves a bustling band of 20, but in reality involves a far smaller number – four in this case – of talented multi-instrumentalists.

And as the album flits from the rousing Celtic-influenced skiffle of Roll Away Your Stone to the busker-folk of Little Lion Man and on to the pastoral gospel-bluegrass sound of Timshel, it’s Marcus Mumford’s pleasant, if not spectacular, voice and unaffected words that keeps the album from becoming a disjointed folk compilation. During Thistle & Weeds, Mumford screams “I will hooold ooon!” with plenty of heartfelt gusto but, unfortunately, not quite the same striking effect of, say, a Damien Rice.

But like Damien Rice – who, in many ways, was the catalyst for this new wave of crossover folk – Mumford doesn’t spend time weaving complex lyrical allegories. An adherent of the conventions of confessional songwriting, Mumford rarely minces his words regarding failures past.

During White Blank Page, Mumford has a message for his ex: “Where was my fault / in loving you with all my heart?” and her new conqueror: “Can you lie next to her / and confess your love?” The message of the next track, I Gave You All, is pretty clear. But Mumford’s heart isn’t always so pent-up with lament. The album’s excellent title track sees the singer restoring some faith: “Love that will not betray you / dismay or enslave you / it will set you free.” Amen to that. And there’s also a note to self about what lies ahead: “Where you invest your love / you invest your life.” Never a truer word, my friend.

Sure, talk of “warm tears falling on forearms” and “planting hope with good seeds” will occasionally expose Mumford’s lyrical naivet�, but these are early days for the young Londoner. For now, it’s better just to enjoy the rambunctious ride with the knowledge that there’s far more promise here than there is grounds for pessimism. Ironically, the album’s greatest reasons for optimism are also its most placid. Sigh No More’s Fleet Foxes-lite introduction sounds as beautiful as mournful voices in harmony always do. The same goes for the album highlight, Timshel.

As the delicate elegy After The Storm closes the album under gloomy clouds, Mumford’s chin remains firmly upright: “And there will come a time / you’ll see / with no more tears / and love will not break your heart / but dismiss your fears.” Even after all the turmoil, the heart of this unpretentious band remains refreshingly visible.

Rating: 4/5

Gideon Brody - 5 Oct 2009
© 1999-2016 OMH.



Although you’d probably never guess it from listening to Mumford & Sons’ debut LP, Sigh No More, the entire band hails from West London. Yet these four gentlemen manage to tap into the fabled Old, Weird America better than their ballyhooed American counterparts Kings of Leon and the Avett Brothers. Beyond superficial measures like employing banjo, mandolin, and double-bass, Mumford & Sons appear to have a Masters‘ level education in and appreciation for American roots music traditions, not to mention that they can whip-up a barnstorming hoedown like it’s nobody’s business. Therein lies a major part of their appeal and power: they treat the banjo like a Stratocaster.

While it’s easy to focus on the Americana aspects of the band’s music, that’s not the full extent of their arsenal. The banjo-led stomps are plentiful for sure, but there are also healthy doses of baroque pop and cathartic indie rock that echo Arcade Fire and Frightened Rabbit. That comparison extends to lyrics as well. Like Win Butler and Scott Hutchinson, Marcus Mumford has a tendency to emote forcefully and earnestly. When the stunning title track’s claim of “Love that will not betray you / Dismay or enslave you / It will set you free” comes barreling at you, there’s not a moment to roll your eyes. You simply submit to the rush.

“Awake My Soul” shows that Mumford is also capable of Waitsian lyrical gems: “In these bodies, we will live / In these bodies, we will die / Where you invest your love, you invest your life”. The song is a definite highlight, but almost every song on Sigh No More sounds fit to be a killer single. Case in point: they’ve absolutely blown-up in their native England with singles “Winter Winds”, “The Cave”, and, especially, “Little Lion Man”. With the rapidly increasing popularity of the aforementioned Kings of Leon and Avett Brothers, it’s natural to assume that Mumford & Sons could experience similar success here in the States. Not that I’m holding my breath.

If I had to place a bet on the Mumford song that will fare best with American ears, my money’s on “The Cave”, a song that distills Ralph Stanley, the Band, and Arcade Fire into a transcendent anthem with a chorus tailor-made for karaoke: “But 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”. Yes, that all looks terribly trite written down, but in the context of song’s thrust, it just works (as these things often do). The fact of the matter is that Sigh No More is an album meant to be sung along to—loudly and shamelessly.

Sigh No More inspires evangelism through sheer force of will. Between Mumford’s gripping wail and the Sons’ whirlwind revelries, it’s a revival hard to resist. It’s not a flawless record, but it does a damn good job of making you look the other way. The more I listen to this album, the more I realize that it’s teflon-coated against cynicism. Mumford’s platitudes would normally grate on me, but they’re surprisingly easy to forgive when they’re being howled over the Sons’ locomotive folk-rock. Like another celebrated Londoner before him, Mumford obviously realizes the vital importance of being earnest.

Rating: 8/10

Ben Schumer - 17 February 2010
© 1999-2017 PopMatters.com



The British press was quick to question the authenticity of Mumford & Sons following the October UK release of Sigh No More. But divorced from the English "new folk" context, their debut just sounds like an earnest slice of polished roots folk.

Occasionally, an overwrought lyrical clunker betrays the band's youthfulness, but their willingness to dabble in myriad sub-genres and Marcus Mumford's plaintive croak make them sound like veteran folkies. They're not at their strongest when echoing the reverb-filled harmonies of Fleet Foxes, but when they drop their instrumental restraint, they achieve an alluring balance of plaintive folk and upbeat bluegrass. When you have a banjo in your repertoire, you use it.

There's still room for growth, but Sigh suggests that Mumford & Sons may someday develop into something great. For now, we'll settle for good.

Rating: 3/5

Richard Trapunski - February 10, 2010
NOW Communications Inc.



It is quite obviously a Good Thing that the centre of gravity of young British guitar music seems to be shifting. Where 18 months ago there was a new "landfill indie" album every other week, now it's new, young British folk-pop groups offering debut albums with metronomic regularity. Mumford & Sons spring from the same agglomeration of musicians that has already bequeathed us Laura Marling and Noah and the Whale, and are by all accounts a delightfully rowdy and passionate live band. Why, then, does their album feel just a little bit too polite? Even when the songs - as they invariably do - cut loose into the hoedown section, with bluegrass banjo underpinning acoustic guitars, strings and horns, there's the sense they are holding back. Maybe that's also what causes Sigh No More to sound a little generic: though everything here is pleasing, there's no single "Wow!" moment. Still, it's a promising start, and once Marcus Mumford develops the storytelling skills of US counterparts such as the Low Anthem, there will surely be better to come.

Rating: 3/5

Michael Hann - 2 October 2009
© 2017 Guardian News and Media Limited



Sigh No More is the debut studio album by London-based rock quartet Mumford & Sons. It was released on 2 October 2009 in the UK, and on 16 February 2010 in the United States and Canada. The album entered the UK Albums Chart at No. 11 and peaked at No. 2 on 20 February 2011, in its 72nd week on the chart and following its Album of the Year win at the Brit Awards. In early 2011, the album peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard 200 in the US. In mid-2010, it was rated the year-to-date's 8th best record on NPR's All Songs Considered. On 20 July 2010, it was shortlisted for the Mercury Prize, awarded annually for the best album in the United Kingdom and Ireland. On 6 December 2010, a deluxe edition was released. This included the original album, a live CD of the concert from the O2 Shepherds Bush Empire, and a DVD containing parts 1, 2 and 3 of the Gentlemen of the Road documentaries. On 15 February 2011, the album was awarded the Best British Album at the BRIT Awards. In the United States, it was the 3rd most digitally downloaded album of 2011, selling 761,000 copies. The album's title is taken from a line in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing and several other lines from the play appear in the title track's lyrics. The vinyl LP version of the record was pressed by United Record Pressing in Nashville, Tennessee.

On the review aggregate site Metacritic, the album has a score of 68 out of 100, indicating "generally favourable reviews". Sigh No More was a slow burner, reaching number one on the Irish Singles Chart and number two on the UK Singles Chart six months after its release. The album sold over a million copies in the United Kingdom and over two million in the US. In the US, the album sold 626,000 copies in 2010 and 1,282,000 in 2011. As of May 2015, it has sold over 3.2 million copies in the US. and it's only the seventh album in digital history to sell 1 million digital copies with 1,656,000 million copies sold.

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