“Well, how should we proceed, without things getting too heavy?”
This is a line from ‘Grace’, the second track on Marcus Mumford’s self-titled. Mumford’s live gig mimics what much of what this album is about: approaching difficult conversations with lightness and grit.
His performance creates a delicate balance between the humble humour of his conversation and the depth and profundity of his music.
This album is personal: Mumford has openly shared that much of this album deals with the sexual abuse he experienced as a child and its repercussions. The opening track ‘Cannibal’ explicitly deals with this subject matter.Mumford’s reflection is not so much on the trauma itself, but on coping with trauma as an adult and the way trauma can encircle not only the victim, but those closest to them. He narrates the experience of bearing inner turmoil to those who you want to be strong for.
His performance at the LCR this Movember is timely as men’s mental health has been a focus for discussion amongst the student body. The reluctancy of men to disclose difficult emotionsand experiences is often pinned loosely on a vague fear of emasculation, but Mumford’s album clarifies a feeling familiar to many: asking those you care for to care for you is a challenge.
Easing into tough subjects is a reoccurrence in self-titled, and Mumford’s gig is an example. Many of the audience members were thirty-somethings enjoying a gig and a pint. Mumford is a great host; his blokey banter warms the crowd and invites them to let loose and have a good night. Opening is the talented and charming Monica Martin, who creates an easy, jazzy feel.
Mumford is effortlessly cool; his appearance and staging is toned down and clean. He begins with some Mumford & Sons classics; everyone knows the words and can get into the music. And then, somewhere between anecdotes and playful jibes, his powerful voice outpours poetry of honest excavation into the past and vivid stories about confronting pain as a son, husband and father. Mumford, also a public figure, is having these difficult conversations with his audience, and yet he makes a point to never make it ‘too heavy’. If you want, you can explore your own pain with Mumford’s words, or, you could have a drink and nod to the rhythm. The choice belongs to the audience member.
In an age when open conversations about mental health are common and encouraged, Mumford highlights how there is, for many, still a lot of tenderness around having these talks. As we break down the doors of stigma, privacy in personal issues becomes more ephemeral, especially for someone of Mumford’s global status.
Self-titled teaches that trauma itself and the willingness to confront it are entirely different battles, and the individual is rarely the only one injured. Trauma reverberates, and conversation is a means to ride its waves.
Image: Concrete/Roo Pitt






Leave a Reply