Review Summary: Nothing wild about it
What do the new Mumford & Sons album and Al Gore talking about fiscal responsibility for 47 minutes have in common? They’re both mind-numbingly boring. Ba dum tss.
But in all seriousness, “Wilder Mind,” is really, really dull.
To Mumford & Sons’ credit, the album doesn’t start that way. Sure, the first track, “Tompkins Square Park,” repeats its chorus more times than it reasonably should, but at least it builds to a pace change at four minutes that makes for a somewhat intriguing listen. This is followed by “Believe,” a song that somewhat ups its pace about halfway through, again avoiding being too tedious. But after the third song, “The Wolf,” that once more employs this slow-to-fast formula, everything began to blend together.
I suppose it’s a step up from their previous effort, “Babel,” if only because there’s no rambling banjo to be found anywhere on the record. The banjo was ingratiating on their first record when it was a fresh sound, but it’s a relief to not have to hear it on “Wilder Mind” after it was plucked to death on “Babel.”
Unfortunately, Mumford & Sons’ cutting of the banjo didn’t inspire to them be more creative with their lyrical content or song structures. Lead singer Marcus Mumford still spends all his time lamenting lost loves, and the tracks fail to do anything except repeat their chorus and build to crescendos that feel cheaper each and every time they’re played.
And that’s because, ultimately, “Wilder Mind” is just 13 songs made up of the same rehashed, radio friendly, monotonous guitar riffs and drum beats. That repeat themselves over and over. And over.
And that’s the problem with the album. The individual songs themselves are pretty innocuous and inoffensive, but when you listen to the same thing in a slightly varied format for 47 minutes, it starts to get to you.
Give Mumford & Sons some kudos, I’m sure department stores and mainstream radio stations will eat up the album’s singles and play them on repeat. If nothing else, “Wilder Mind” is predictable, safe, and exactly what corporate mega chains like Marshall’s and Macy’s want playing through their speakers while people browse for bargain jeans. And I suppose someone needs to make that music.
But damn is it insipid.
The verdict: Despite thankfully dropping their overused banjo, Mumford & Sons can’t help but continue to churn out canned radio rock that dulls the senses and does nothing to satisfy the soul.
