LET'S RAISE OUR HANDS FOR A MOMENT, AND LEAVE IT ALL BEHIND

MUMFORD AND SONS

NEON LIGHTS FESTIVAL // SINGAPORE

A few weeks back, I found out I would be going to China for a work trip in November. Realizing that my trip would align with Mumford and Sons’ Asia tour, I knew I had to try to work out a chance to see them in a new setting. Despite already seeing them on this tour, I couldn’t resist seizing on the opportunity to experience a show in a foreign country. So, when their Singapore date aligned with my work schedule, I was able to convince a friend of mine to join me for a weekend of exploring a new city and attending the music festival they were playing at.

We arrived at Fort Canning Park a couple hours before Mumford and Sons were scheduled to come on at the Neon Lights music festival. Sweaty and damp from the uphill walk in the humid and misty air, we reluctantly took our spots in the back of the long line waiting to get in. Around us were the most diverse group of concert goers I have been a part of. As I stood there in an attempt to cool myself off with the folding fan I bought in the Hong Kong airport, I heard British and Australian accents mixed in with some Chinese and other languages I couldn’t quite recognize. The line moved slowly, but eventually we made it into the park and headed right towards the main stage, passing the beer stands and food lines in an effort to save both time and money.

The scene was typical of most music festivals I’ve been to. A mix of teenagers dressed in their trendy “festival” attire along with random groups of adults chatting and sipping beer. The only difference was the diversity that I witnessed while waiting in line was even more vast and apparent among the thousands of individuals strewed across the lawn in front of the stage. Each direction I looked was a different mix of people, each individual carrying with them a unique story from a different background. It was a refreshing sense to be amongst such variety, knowing I was just a small part of this melting pot of cultures.  

The prior band on the main stage, Honne, wrapped up and the crew had 30 minutes to transition the stage for Mumford and Sons. As they began to bring out the new drum set and arrange the stand up bass on the right side of the stage, I realized that the normal elaborate light set up did not travel with the band to Asia, and there for the production of this performance would ultimately be quite different than the extravagant show I had gotten accustomed to on this current tour. Instead, a backdrop of four horses slowly was pulled up at the back of the stage, creating a scene for a more simple atmosphere.

The lads walked out on stage and after a “hello Singapore!” by Marcus, replied with a roaring cheer from the crowd, they moved right into Guiding Light. My apprehensions of a foreign crowd quickly dissipated as the energy immediately lit up Fort Canning Park. Jumping right into The Cave, one of the band’s better well known songs, that energy heightened even more – the sounds of the familiar claps as these strangers jumped around me after Marcus sings “I need to know how to live my life as it’s meant to be” made me feel like I was right at home.

The arrangements I had grown familiar with over the past few years were transformed to the core of what makes them special; the lyrics and beats that welcome the crowd into an alternate universe. It was such an incredible opportunity to be able to see this stripped down version of the band. Sure, they’ve done a great job at keeping their shows intimate during their songs around one mic and sets sung on the B stage without the larger band behind them. But to be able to see a full show without the 8 piece band accompanying the origin of the piano, guitar, banjo, and bass was a chance to go back in time, to how it all started.

The details were more apparent. The piano keys were more abundant throughout the entire song, not just the intro before the chorus of instruments take over. The bass was more clear with each strum being heard. The difference between Marcus’ guitar and Winston’s guitar was more obvious, allowing us to see who is responsible for each and every chord. And what was even more special was seeing the intimate moments between the band mates – the whispers in between songs and the smiles during the cheers.

I was interested to see what seeing Mumford and Sons would be like in a foreign country. And although Singapore has a strong western presence and English is as abundant as satay and fish ball soup at the hawker stands, I was still curious what the crowd would be like. But as Marcus sang through his round of “ahs” during Below My Feet and thousands of people sang along, I realized that language barriers don’t really exist when it comes to music. Even when it wasn’t the easily translatable “hars” and “ahs” in the midst of the meaningful lyrics, the energy was still sparkling within the diverse crowd of Singaporeans, Chinese, Malaysian, Americans, British, Australians, and foreigners from all walks of life. I guess when it comes down to it, music isn’t always about the meaning – it’s about a feeling. And these feelings that are brought out by the energy and passion of a live show, well they don’t need much translating at all.

There I stood 8000 miles from where I live, and another 1000 miles from where I was born. Surrounded by strangers I will never know. Strangers whom I hadn’t the slightest clue of what they did for work or where they were born or what their relationship status was or what they have coped with or what keeps them up at night. Strangers whom I will never know their names or their titles or their interests or their secrets. Strangers I knew nothing about, other than the fact that we were all brought there. Whatever the means – be it by train, by boat, by car, by flight - for work or for play or for anything in between, this finite group of people were brought together that night to stand united, to dance in rhythm and to sing in harmony. The next day I would be back on a plane and in another day I would be back to 9000 miles away. I would never be with these people again. Knowing that allowed me to be a little more free – to let go more than I usually do. To release the cares I often carry with me and to just experience these moments.

If the time it took to get into the concert felt like a marathon, the time to leave was a sprint – thousands of people going their separate ways to most likely never see the person they just danced next to for two hours again. The night will be but an afterthought for the majority of people in the crowd that night, and for a few that will let it, it will be a high they can carry with them for a few more days. Seeing one of your favorite bands abroad is not an opportunity that is lost on me. I am grateful for the reasons why I was able to make this a reality and I don’t carry these prospects lightly. As I walked back to our Airbnb that night, I was overcome with a new perspective of this world. Being able to witness such diversity in a singular place was an experience I wouldn’t soon forget. To me, having all those walks of life joined together in harmony was magical – the kind of magic that only music could create.