When Mumford HQ was knee-high to a stote on stilts, we nearly drowned. This ain’t no cake walk to a picnic in the park, this is dark. Real dark. Not literally dark, but like, dark – darkly dramatic, I’m being dramatic, creating an atmosphere, setting a scene.
Here’s the scene…
A sun-drenched sandy coast, hugged by a polar blue sea. A little person. A little person swimming off a sun-drenched sandy coast, hugged by a polar blue sea. A bigger person, also swimming off a sun-drenched sandy coast, hugged by a polar blue sea. A dunking. Another dunking. Dunk, dunk, slam dunk. Dunkings the likes of which one only sees on Crimewatch. I don’t know if you’ve ever nearly drowned but our vision went black and white before melting into slow motion. We’re chatting flashbacks and lights at the end of infinite tunnels – the whole shebang, the real deal. Had it not been for the intervention of C.J Parker we might not be writing this at all. Ahh, C.J…
Anyway, in adulthood, if we were to choose a way to go it would be drowning in a sea of sound… Hugged by a polar blue sea. Cause of death: drowned in sound. Or DiS.
Coincidentally, Mumford & Sons took some time out a little while ago to answer YOUR questions for Sean et al over at Drowned In Sound, the results (or ‘answers’, for the sane) of which can be seen/ingested/digested/absorbed right here – believe me when I say it’s fantastic, so get paddling!
 
M&S HQ
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