THAT BEYOND, THAT'S BEYOND ME

I used to say you haven’t lived until you’ve been to a Bruce Springsteen concert. But then I saw Mumford and Sons in concert – and I realized there was a part of me that never was quite alive. The energy at a Mumford show is contagious. It starts in the crowd and travels its way through the venue – infecting each and every audience member. When the band themselves catch this energetic disease there is no turning back – the night becomes an endless back and forth transfer of escalating energy. The higher the crowd jumps the harder the lads stomp their feet. The louder the crowd sings the deeper the band digs. Mumford and Sons have always been generous in this way – they give back what they take in, and often this manifests itself into a collaboratively beautiful atmosphere.

I saw Mumford and Sons the other week in San Francisco – at the recently opened Chase Center. I felt cautioned going to see one of my favorite bands in an arena setting. All the other times I’ve seen them have been outside – and the atmosphere of the outdoor venues seemed to be part of the reason the shows were always so special. Nevertheless, I was in town for other plans for that weekend and I couldn’t not go to the show just because of hesitations toward the venue.

We had pit tickets, so we found a spot near the B stage and stood firm as the anticipation began to build. There was an extremely tall man standing on the rail in front of us – unfortunate circumstance we thought, but his height came to our advantage when one of the crew members taped the set list to the B stage and said tall man was able to reach over to take a picture for a preview of what was to come. I was slightly disappointed that we wouldn’t get to hear 42 as the opener, but I knew regardless of the setlist the show would be sure to please. He read off the setlist and with each song came a tiny burst of excitement.

The seats began to fill in as we got closer to showtime. After an energetic rock and roll set from openers Gang of Youths, a mix of Motown favorites played on the house speakers - getting us in the dancing mood. When Do You Love Me (Now That I Can Dance) came on the hype was real. My sister and I tried to get people to do the twist with us, but the now crowded pit proved difficult to really twist all that much. Then the music quieted as the crowd grew louder, the telltale sign that it was time. As I watched the lads walk out, a sudden reel of past Mumford shows started playing in my mind – making me wonder how this show would stack up to all of the rest.

The first time I saw Mumford and Sons was at a Gentlemen of the Road Stopover in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. I was a complete rookie and had no idea what I was getting myself into. When one of the girls’ camping next to us found out this was our first Mumford show, she ensured us that our experience with live music will never be the same. Being a Gentlemen of the Road veteran by that time, she let us in on some of the GOTR secrets and made me even more excited for what was to come. The simple act of her sharing her past experiences opened up a connection that was only tightened throughout the rest of that weekend. We spent our days beneath the Seaside boardwalk making new friends, sharing stories of lives past and present, playing games into the wee hours of the night, and singing and dancing our hearts out in the sand – experiencing the power of live music with strangers who turned into lifelong friends.

I hadn’t realized it yet at the time, but that weekend ingrained the idea into my mind that music has the power to change its surroundings – to heal and to celebrate the beauty of the human soul and connection. Mumford and Sons opened my ears to new music that I would have otherwise skipped on my Spotify shuffle. They opened my eyes to the kindness of the human spirit. And they opened my heart to the notion that friends don’t have to be made through years of ordinary experience; but rather a weekend of shared vulnerability. There were a lot of things that contributed to this realization for me, but at the root of it all there was the music. Mumford and Sons’ melodies, words, and spirit somehow, in a beautifully serendipitous way, brought together a group of people that would have otherwise gone through life without ever knowing each other. At the time, I had no idea what a damn shame that would have been.

Fast forward a few years and a couple of more Mumford shows later, I found myself standing in the Chase Center, still amazed to be in the midst of it all. Marcus counting in the rest of the band during Little Lion Man as the crowd cheers in excitement; the quick witted “woo” and foot stomping during Babel; and hearing the fans sing along to “I need to know how to live my life as its meant to me” during The Cave still gets me every time. And now we are in the company of new classics that are sure to become part of that growing list of favorites. Hearing songs like Beloved come to life on stage or watching the lights and pyrotechnics behind Darkness Visible have been such an unexpected but remarkable change of sound and energy.

When we heard Marcus’ opening chords of Roll Away Your Stone we jumped in excitement knowing that we would finally get to see Ben’s, now infamous, jump before the boot stomping leading up to “stars hide your fire”. And then we prepared for Marcus to run through the crowd during Ditmas - the fact that he can hop off the stage and be in the back upper section before you even have time to realize he left still fascinates me. After Marcus ran by us a security guard came close behind, confused and out of breath - looking around frantically. “He’s already back on stage” we said to him – he sighed and said something into his radio in relief. He should have known…real rock stars wait for no one.

The band came out onto the B stage to start their encore – we got a quiet acoustic version of Where Are You Now around the one microphone. The crowd couldn’t hold in their excitement so instead of a second song huddled around the mic, the band picked up their instruments and led the crowd in a harmonious version of Awake My Soul. It was such a pleasure to be able to see the crowd from their point of view – each of them looking out in what seemed like amazement. You would think that bands like Mumford and Sons get used to this – hearing crowds sing back their lyrics and dance to their beats. But, from an outsider’s perspective, it seemed to me that they still hold a sense of wonder in their eyes after all of these years. No matter how many shows they play, they still welcome satisfaction in with open arms when the crowd is fueled by their music.

Back on the main stage. we then were some of the lucky ones who got to hear Blind Leading the Blind, a still unreleased song. I first heard this song at ACL back in 2016; we all looked at each other and exclaimed “what is this?!” in amazement. After the disappointment of not getting it on the last record, I was happy to hear them still playing it. It’s a song of unity and truth that we need right now. After a collaborative version of The Middle East’s Blood with Gang of Youths and the crowd pleaser I Will Wait, it was time to bid farewell once again. As the opening guitar riffs of Delta strummed through the speakers, the emotions that are carried with a finale were triggered – a collaboration between sadness and happiness intertwining to create a sense of fulfillment. A song like Delta emphasizes these emotions, with lines like “that beyond, that’s beyond me” opening up the audience’s thoughts to things outside the four walls of the arena. I tried to keep myself in the moment – reminding myself to enjoy this while it lasts. But nevertheless, my mind began to reflect on the experiences these shows have brought me over the years.

I want everyone to be able to experience a Mumford show – but at the same time I fear that the bigger they get, the more out of reach they become. I don’t mean this in a personal way by any means, but they have done such an amazing job of remaining connected and integrated into their fans’ lives – I wonder how much longer they can keep this up. I’ll admit, I was rather late to the Mumford bandwagon. My first show was already 3 albums in and thousands of fans deep – but even since then it seems like they are still exploding, one show at a time. I couldn’t be happier that more people are experiencing this band – but at the same time I’m worried what might happen. Will the crowds just keep getting bigger? Will the shows become saturated with different people that don’t mesh with the Agora fan base? Will the bandmates get worn out by the pressure of their growing success? But then I think – so what if the crowds get bigger and the fans more diverse? After all, isn’t that what music is all about? Sharing this cherished art form with people from all walks of life? Despite the ever-expanding success of their music, Mumford and Sons have somehow been able to keep experiences shared with thousands of people intimate and sacred. When you’re in the presence of a Mumford show, you’re a part of something bigger than yourself, but at the same time you feel like the experience is a deeply personal one. I guess that’s all a part of the power of music – the contrasting ideas of individuality and synergy coming together in an unexplainable phenomenon. With all of these thoughts swirling through my head, I am left to believe that no matter how big they get – they’ll still hold that sense of wonder in their eyes when they’re sharing their music.

As Marcus swayed his arm while pointing into the crowd, he sang “when its all just nothingness, that means fucking nothing to me”. My fears of losing the intimacy and connection slipped away when it became crystal clear that their passion is still very much alive. When Marcus started pounding his chest questioning “does my love prefer the others”? I am once again brought back into the moment – knowing that there is nowhere else I’d rather be. And just in time for the confetti to shoot out and sprinkle us in a beautiful shower of colorful paper, I spin around in circles and am reminded that whatever the future holds – for me, for my friends, for all of these fans, for the band – right there, amongst the sweat, smiles, and confetti strewed over the floor, the energy still awakes the souls among us. So, I spin – I dance and laugh and take in a deep breath, and I don’t dare blink – for I know feelings like this don’t last forever.

Annie MarieOctober 6, 20191 Comment