Mumford & Sons Slay The Sophomore Jinx

Many a musician lives in fear of the dreaded sophomore jinx, the second album that doesn't measure up to the lofty standard set by its predecessor. If you're Mumford & Sons you needn't lose any sleep over it. "Babel", the sophomore set in question is a glistening diamond from first track to last. Filler material just isn't part of the package here. The Irish folk ensemble have already turned heads with the fleet footed yet grounded "I Will Wait" and the slice of vulnerability known as "Babel". There are plenty of other attention grabbers in the bunch. Whichever emotion Marcus Mumford is zooming in on his full bodied voice cuts right to the chase. "Reminder" possesses the slow, wounded rhythm of a man not wanting to cause his lover any more strife. He's barely got the energy to come crawling to her door. The revelatory aspect of "Hopeless Wanderer" lies in the cleverly planted pace shifts. At first it's jaunty but not at a breakneck level. It isn't long before you're taking a spin through the Irish countryside with a band of gents with something extra in the tank. All participants show off the full power of their instruments. "Country" Winston Marshall's banjo lends authenticity to the regional flavor. Ted Dwane's string bass endows the melodies with a undeniable spine. Ben Lovett dives into his accordion fearlessly. His style demonstrates he can face nettlesome relationship issues unintimidated. "Ghosts That We Knew" burns straight from the heart with a level of intimacy usually reserved for a group of lads telling stories around a campfire. Come to think of it that's not a bad description for this foursome. You'll leave the listening experience without pangs of starvation following a go round with "Lover of the Light". It takes all the time it needs to gel into a rich Irish stew. Mumford & Sons has done everything possible to convince the sophomore jinx it needs to pick on someone its own size. These songs are bigger than life.