Mumford and Sons, O2 Arena, review: Intermittently lost in translation

The foursome work diligently through an erratic set list on a night that never quite settles down

A conflicted show makes clear the need for Mumford to get over their identity crisis

Not unlike their latest album, Mumford’s arena show is all a little too considered.

Anything that might trip an association with the halcyon folk days of Sigh No More has been scrubbed away, yet in saying a firm goodbye to beige and tan and a half-hearted hello to leather jackets and bold red backdrops, Mumford have simply left a breadcrumb trail of self-consciousness behind their meandering search for an uninhibited image.

This confliction is apparent in a set that splices albums in a misguided attempt to play down stylistic polarisation. It ends up an uneven and oddly lumpy procession, as spindly electric ‘Broad-Shouldered Beasts’ rubs uncomfortably against euphoric harmonies on ‘Awake My Soul’.

This isn’t to say that any particular song flounders – this band doesn’t do filler and there’s nuance to every number - but the collection of strong threads is woven into a knotty mess of an evening.

Even the choice of Jack Garratt - electronic maestro and Brits Critics’ Choice Winner 2016 - as support act feels like an overthought lunge outside of the box.

This conflicted show makes clear the need for Mumford to get over their identity crisis. Their music is bigger than waistcoats and leather alike.