I. am. BEYOND. excited.
I talked about them on here before, and how they make me feel ALL the feelings. They are my soulband (soulmate, soulband... see what I did there?). There have been bands throughout the years whom I have referred to as my favorite band, whom I have loved, but nothing I ever felt for those bands can come close to the things that go through my brain, my heart, and my soul when I listen to Mumford & Sons. Perhaps that sounds cheesy and cliche, but I can't even imagine what my life would be like if it hadn't been for four boys from London deciding to form a band.
And I know that sounds melodramatic. But it is what it is.
We all have that that one band that we use to get through everything. Back in the summer of 2001, that band was Live. Being 15 sucks, you know? I don't think I need to elaborate on the reasons for my need for music then. In the summer of 2006, Josh Rouse reminded me what was so great and so beautiful about being alive. A year and a half later, the only thing that could get me through the heartrending agony of losing my dad was Bain Mattox. I had the opportunity in early 2008 to thank Bain, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, even though the words were on my tongue after a live show I had commissioned for my college. It was too soon, and I knew I would break. I just couldn't. I regret that sometimes. With almighty Facebook, I suppose I could still tell him, but...
They were all there when I needed them, and they did help. I am unbelievably grateful to every band I ever listened to and felt connected to. But nothing compares to the avalanche of emotion that hit me since that fateful day in 2010 when I first heard Mumford & Sons. Or the avalanche that hits me every single time I listen to them, even over two years later. Did you know that I have listened to Mumford & Sons almost every single day since I finally broke down and purchased their first album Sigh No More in November of 2010? They are responsible for 15 of the top 25 most-played tracks on my iPod. It could be more now, but I haven't checked the list in over a month. When they debuted the first single off their new album in early August, I cried. I fully admit and own up to that. It was visceral and beautiful. BBC Radio 1 played five tracks from their upcoming album on Monday, and I've sat here listening to them over and over and over again for the past 3 days.
All good songs teach us things, about life, the world, about ourselves. I am indebted to Mumford & Sons for showing me so much of myself over the past two years. They were the ones who clued me into the fact that I was in an abusive relationship -- when I wouldn't listen to my friends' reasoning. Love, if that was what that was (hint: it really wasn't), shouldn't have been that hard. It shouldn't have made me feel stupid, or ugly, or fat. Love isn't suppose to make you feel anything but the positive. And though it may be simply stated in their lyrics, I never really thought about it until I heard the chorus of this song.
And even still, I didn't have a word to describe the existential failing of that relationship, until I heard this song at Coachella in 2011 (which I listened to in the basement of the then-boyfriend's house, completely ignoring him with the earbuds shoved so hard in my ears. Praise YouTube for streaming it.).*
*I actually heard this song several months prior, a bootleg titled "Walk Slow" by whoever had recorded and posted it.
The word I was looking for was "death." I was dying. I was being smothered, weakened, and if I didn't get out, I was going to die. For a while there, I couldn't listen to this song without crying.
And even now, now that I removed myself from that situation, and am in a much better place in my life, the way their lyrics are fingers wrapped tightly around my heart, the way that acoustic guitar, that kickdrum, that banjo, that keyboard, that upright bass so fantastically capture what I feel inside of myself... it gets to me. And I now understand the reason why people cry over things that are beautiful. They pull at our insides relentlessly, showing us the things about ourselves we didn't realize or never wanted to acknowledge. They show us the things that could be, and will be. They show us what is right in the world, even when so much can be going wrong. They show us truth and emotion, and that's all you can ask for, isn't it?
That's what Mumford & Sons show me. I cannot wait for this new album. Nine of the twelve tracks I've heard so many times already, but I need more. I can never get enough of that moment when I know what's beautiful.
You guys, I can't even describe how much more... everything the album version of this song is. I tried to find a bootleg of it on YouTube, but no such luck. After the second verse, when it gets a little heavier, just a little faster... something goes haywire with my tear ducts.
Five more days. Then it's mine all mine.
(You better believe I've had it pre-ordered since July.)
And even still, I didn't have a word to describe the existential failing of that relationship, until I heard this song at Coachella in 2011 (which I listened to in the basement of the then-boyfriend's house, completely ignoring him with the earbuds shoved so hard in my ears. Praise YouTube for streaming it.).*
*I actually heard this song several months prior, a bootleg titled "Walk Slow" by whoever had recorded and posted it.
The word I was looking for was "death." I was dying. I was being smothered, weakened, and if I didn't get out, I was going to die. For a while there, I couldn't listen to this song without crying.
And even now, now that I removed myself from that situation, and am in a much better place in my life, the way their lyrics are fingers wrapped tightly around my heart, the way that acoustic guitar, that kickdrum, that banjo, that keyboard, that upright bass so fantastically capture what I feel inside of myself... it gets to me. And I now understand the reason why people cry over things that are beautiful. They pull at our insides relentlessly, showing us the things about ourselves we didn't realize or never wanted to acknowledge. They show us the things that could be, and will be. They show us what is right in the world, even when so much can be going wrong. They show us truth and emotion, and that's all you can ask for, isn't it?
That's what Mumford & Sons show me. I cannot wait for this new album. Nine of the twelve tracks I've heard so many times already, but I need more. I can never get enough of that moment when I know what's beautiful.
You guys, I can't even describe how much more... everything the album version of this song is. I tried to find a bootleg of it on YouTube, but no such luck. After the second verse, when it gets a little heavier, just a little faster... something goes haywire with my tear ducts.
Five more days. Then it's mine all mine.
(You better believe I've had it pre-ordered since July.)
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