Babel, Mumford & Sons’ foot-stomping, banjo-infused
second album better suited for the local EnormoDome than a front
porch in Appalachia, outsold all but two other albums on iTunes in
2012. It’s up for four Grammy awards.
The cool kids aren’t happy.
“The religious overtones on Mumford & Sons’ sophomore album
come as no surprise,” the Los Angeles Times blurts out in
the first line of its critique. The paper notes that “frontman
Marcus Mumford first circulated in the scene around the Vineyard,
an international network of evangelical Christian churches
(Mumford’s parents are leaders of the community in the U.K.). So
when he notes that ‘this cup of yours tastes holy,’ as he does here
in ‘Whispers in the Dark,’ you figure the guy knows what holiness
tastes like.”
An NPR piece on the backlash against the band notes that the
group’s singer was “raised in a devout Christian household” and
that the “rise of the megachurch… has a lot to do with the newest
wave of folk-rock taking hold.” The writer references a “rock ‘n’
roll code” that celebrates outsiders and subversives. Mr. Mumford,
a Christian in the pop world of Lady Gaga, Ke$ha and Eminem, rebels
against that code. This makes him a conformist. Do you follow?
The opening line of Spin’s review of Mumford &
Sons’ Babel tells us that the album Marcus Mumford
gravitated to as a child was Bob Dylan’s Slow Train
Coming, “You know, Bob Dylan’s first Christian one.” The
review, ostensibly about a record release, notes that Mr. Mumford’s
parents “are big on the God thing.” When the piece gets around to
the album, Spin informs: “that Holy Spirit and Satan stuff
winds all through the band’s music.” If you missed the writer’s
condescension toward God and everything religion related (and few
did), he adds: “Pope rock will never die!”
Critics, more so than the bands they critique, lack originality.
The herd mentality they lament in music they embrace in criticism.
The Marcus Mumford meme demonstrates this. Few bands play like
Mumford & Sons. Few critics say anything different about
Mumford & Sons.
Sonically, the mere fact that Mumford & Sons features
organic instrumentation sets them apart from other popular music.
You hear drum machines, Auto-Tune, and synthesizers on the radio.
But banjos, accordions, and the dobro?
Lyrically, Mumford, even if sparingly and obliquely, addresses
matters of faith. Rihanna can sing that “Sticks and stones may
break my bones/But chains and whips excite me” in “S&M.”
Madonna can make a play on the club drug ecstasy in titling her
latest album MDNA. Snoop Dog can rap about killing
undercover cops. Just don’t dare talk about Our Father.
In a world without taboos the only taboo is God. A higher power
reminds of limitations, authority, and that something greater than
number one exists. The rock star imagines himself as a human deity,
and his many worshippers treat him accordingly. God’s a real buzz
kill in that anthropocentric universe.
That writers find a person of faith in the pop world remarkable
is itself remarkable. In Britain, where a recent poll found more
believers in UFOs than God, the band’s vaguely Christian outlook
might be seen as slightly unusual. But in America, where Gallup
continues to find that more than nine in ten Americans believe in
God, the perplexed response to Mumford & Sons says more about
the alienation of critics than it does about the band. The normal
astounds the abnormal.
Critics really don’t like that people like a record made by
people who like God.
Marcus Mumford knows this better than most. “No, it’s not a
statement of faith,” he defensively told the British homeless paper
Big Issue regarding the new album. “We don’t feel
evangelical about anything. Really. Other than music.” The singer
added the obligatory line about being more spiritual than
religious.
It’s unclear what message Mr. Mumford sends with his music. It’s
perfectly clear what message he receives because of his music. God
is a heresy among the godless. Acknowledge your faith at the risk
of excommunication by the pop-music popes.
We don’t learn from the reviews of Babel whether or not
Mumford & Sons are closeted Jesus freaks. We do learn that
reviewers freak out about Jesus.
