Song of the Week: "Timshel" by Mumford and Sons

Song of the Week will be a weekly (really?) feature on Stetson’s Garden. I absolutely love listening to music, and more than that, I love sharing music I love with other people. So, I plan on showcasing one song at the end of each week and writing about why I love it, why I felt the need to share it, why I think it is a special song worth sharing.

In honor of their album coming out next week (Tuesday the 25^th in the States) – an album, by the way, that I highly anticipate – I have chosen to showcase Mumford and Sons’ “Timshel,” the eighth song on their debut album Sigh No More. Timshel can be considered a stylistic departure from the group’s biggest hits, the hard-charging duo of “Little Lion Man” and “The Cave,” but, hell, it is, simply put, a beautiful song.

The version of the song embedded here is as simple and unplugged a song can be. A group of four friends standing in a French street, one has a guitar, they all have voices. They stand in a line on the cobblestone road and sing together, and their simple music is enough to draw the attention of a few neighbors and passersby.

Without doubt, my favorite part of this song is Marcus Mumford’s guitar playing. The opening thirty second of the tune are completely hypnotic. Whenever I hear it or the other sections of the song that feature the guitar, I feel my head begin to bob slowly back and forth, side to side. I close my eyes and the song wakes me in a wonderfully comfortable place, a contemplative and peaceful place, a beautiful place worthy of being the setting of this song.

Prepare yourself to be overwhelmed by the musings of an enamored fanboy because I absolutely love this group, and this song, although simple, quiet and slow, showcases some of their best qualities. Firstly, and most importantly, the harmonies Mumford and Sons achieve are incredible. Here they stand on an open street and perfectly hit every note; every chord is constructed with great precision and leads to a marvelous sound.

But the emotional power of this song, and of this performance is equally awesome. The best part of comparing live performances to studio equivalents is being able to see what the musicians are doing. The eyes of these four are locked straight ahead. I feel like this song is evoking the same feelings of loss, helplessness and redemption from each of them as it does from me.

This performance, the lyrics of the song, which touch on the fear of death, camaraderie and the ultimate helplessness that accompanies reliance upon another person, I feel can be epitomized by the song’s final measures, when Marcus strangles out his final for you, puts his head down and slowly strums one last time. The loneliness of his voice juxtaposed with the happy resolution of one last major tonic chord screws with my heart; it messes with my head, like at a funeral when the tears of grief mix with the smiles of happy nostalgia. This song leaves me with that same feeling of emotional confusion: I could pity its sadness or marvel at its beauty.