Right from its opening shots of idyllic pastoral and nature scenes, The Road To Red Rocks will give you a deep longing for… well, something.
This film, well-timed with the band’s recent sophomore album Babel, is a fine showcase of the London outfit’s own brand of secular spirituals.
It lays its scene in the Red Rocks Amphitheatre of Colorado, with Grand-Canyonesque rocks lit like a lover’s bedroom and lending the whole affair a feeling of blurry intimacy.
The bulk of the 88-minute film is devoted to the band’s passionate, almost ecstatic performance there. Marcus Mumford pours out his vocals – sometimes soaking wet as he croons, sometimes dry as a word catches on the emotion in his throat.
The stomp-clang of the kick drum and tambourine lends the music a thigh-slapping energy, backed up by the band’s capable arrangements.
The music feels something like longing for home after being away for too long. At times the band captures you with it, at times they are maudlin and overdrawn. The whole-band harmonies soar and float in folky ecstasy, stacking up nicely with the rare but powerful moments of raucous rock thrashing.
The mostly skippable talk between songs reveals a band that’s not really sure where it’s going – wondering if they’re “gonna run out of road” in Mumford’s words.
With folk, pop and rock blending and borrowing from one another, London borrowing from southern USA, which borrowed in turn from London, maybe we can forgive the geographical confusion.
