Seven years is a lifetime in the music industry. Yet somehow, Mumford & Sons’ return with “Rushmere” feels less like a comeback and more like running into an old friend who’s grown wonderfully complex with age.
The English folk-rock outfit — now operating as a trio since Winston Marshall’s departure — hasn’t just weathered change; they’ve alchemized it into something remarkable. Their latest offering strips away the electronic experimentalism of 2018’s “Delta,” reaching instead for something raw and honest. (Remember when everyone thought they’d gone too digital? Feels like ancient history now.)
Recording across Nashville’s whiskey-soaked studios, Savannah’s moss-draped streets, and frontman Marcus Mumford’s Devon sanctuary created an album that breathes with place and possibility. Producer Dave Cobb’s fingerprints are everywhere, though never heavy-handed — just ask anyone who caught their surprise set at Bonnaroo 2025.
“Malibu” opens the record like a slow-burning fuse. There’s something almost mischievous about how it builds — gentle acoustic strums giving way to that trademark crescendo we’ve missed since the “Little Lion Man” days. When Mumford confesses “I’m still afraid/I said too much/Or not enough,” it’s a gut-punch of vulnerability beneath the sonic tapestry.
The title track? Pure poetry in motion. Named after that little London pond where they first dreamed up their sound, “Rushmere” captures something elusive about youth and wisdom. “Don’t you miss/The breathlessness/The wildness in the eye?” Sure, it’s nostalgic — but not in that cheap, Instagram-filter kind of way.
Some tracks catch you completely off guard. “Truth” slides into blues territory with the kind of electric guitar work that’d make Keith Richards raise an eyebrow, while “Monochrome” strips everything back to fingerpicked intimacy. Speaking of surprises — who’d have thought they’d collaborate with that indie folk collective from Portland on the bridge?
But it’s the album closer, “Carry On,” that really shows their evolution. Here’s a band grappling with faith, doubt, and human nature without flinching: “I will take this darkness/Over any light you cast/You and all your original sin… Carry on/’Cause there’s no evil in a child’s eyes.” Heavy stuff from the lads who once had us stomping and hollering about caves.
Ten tracks might seem brief after such a long wait. But there’s not an ounce of filler here — each song earns its place, contributing to a larger conversation about growth and belief. Rather refreshing in an era of bloated streaming-oriented releases, isn’t it?
“Rushmere” proves that sometimes the best way forward is to look back while keeping one foot firmly in the present. For a band that helped define the folk revival of the 2010s, they’ve managed something even trickier: growing up without growing stale.
The album drops next month, and word around the industry suggests their upcoming Red Rocks show might just be the concert of the summer. Time will tell — but for now, “Rushmere” stands as proof that some things are worth the wait.
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