Mumford and Bums Report to the West

I know I'm behind on Mumford and Sons. I still haven't gotten Babel or listened to most of the songs on it, but I've heard some here and there.

Truth be told, there are very few songs that seem original on the new album. I'm not doubting the originality or the tenderness of the lyrics, but there just isn't anything that's super appealing to me in the likes of "Little Lion Man" or "White Blank Page" or pretty much any song from the first album.

That being said, listen to this excellent cover of what I deem to be the best song on "Babel"!

"And I’ll go along with everything you say
But I’ll ride home laughing, look at me now
The walls of my town, they come crumbling down."

Snow is falling west of here. The mountains have more than a
foot of it. I see the early morning sky dark as night. I won't lis-
ten to the weather report. I'll let the question of snow hang.
Answers only dull the senses. Even answers that are right often
make what they explain uninteresting. In nature the answers
are always changing. Rain to snow, for instance. Nature can
let the mysterious things alone—wet leaves plastered to tree
trunks, the intricate design of fish guts. The way we don't fall
off the earth at night when we look up at the North Star. The
way we know this may not always be so. The way our dizziness
makes us grab the long grass, hanging by our fingertips on the
edge of infinity.

Tom Hennen