I don’t want what Mumford & Sons (the case in point here) have managed to accrue. Its the way that they seem to have coldly calculated their image; that of a working class, salt-of-the-earth, wagon-hopping troupe of bards, with timeless tales to tell. All construct. Heavy on the bullsh*t. All about waiting, and hoping, and beating their fists on their chests to say… NOTHING. They’re pulling it off too. Millions have been sucked in to the spell. And what do they actually produce? Gigantic, repetitive, empty musical statements. Empty cans making the most noise. Cynicism in music is one of the things that really gets my back up, and these so-called dandy fops absolutely reek off it. I don’t mean writing about cynical emotions – thats important, and its got its place. What I mean is that Mumford & Sons stink of affectation, and it kinda disgusts me. If I’d spent my life as a jobbing folk musician I’d be really pissed at the way these guys use their faux folk music (bells… check, banjo… check, stomping feet… check) as a tool to swindle hard earned cash out of kids pocket. I hope the antique shop they probably pretend to write their music in goes out of business.
As I touched on before, I rarely get vitriolic online. Its all too common, and largely pointless. I mean, who gives a flying f_ck about my blog. Mumford & Sons ubiquity made me do it. Watching a band in Brussels one night, a friend nailed it when he leaned to me and said "I don’t believe them". There’s loads of bands I don’t particularly like… but its the ones that aren’t honestly invested in their art that I have a problem with.