Mumfords 2.0 - A Bigger, Louder, Darker Band Storm Co-op Live

Desh Kapur
2 days ago
3 min read

Co Op Live, Manchester 3rd December 2025

WORDS AND IMAGES DESH KAPUR

Mumfords 2.0 - A Bigger, Louder, Darker Band Storm Co-op Live — Photo Credit Desh Kapur

A folk-rock resurrection in the world’s newest mega-arena

It was one of those rare Manchester winter nights no rain but the wind and cold cuts through right you — the sort that makes you pull your coat tighter even before you’ve crossed the tram tracks. By the time I squeezed into Co-op Live (after the usual shuffle of queues, bag checks and people shouting “THAT’S NOT THE RIGHT DOOR, MATE”), the air was already humming. Mumford & Sons hadn’t played Manchester properly in years.

Inside, Co-op Live was buzzing — a low, electrical drone of expectation. Pints being drunk, the smell of food fighting with the smell of aftershave and perfume, and that huge, cavernous roof echoing every pre-show cheer into something twice as loud.

Sierra Ferrell opened with her outlaw-folk shimmer — a weirdly perfect starter. Her voice had that witchy magic that makes you forget you’re standing in a billion-quid arena next to someone trying to find their vape. By the time she left, the room was warmed up and humming. Especially when two of the 3 from Mumford and Sons, joined her for a song

When the lights dropped, the place detonated and Mumford & Sons walked on like a band who knew damn well the room was theirs. Marcus, in his usual understated swagger, just nodded — and boom.

They slammed straight into the new material, "Run Together" from their upcoming sixth studio album, Prizefighter, big drums, massive bass, Mumford’s voice cracking just enough to feel human. Then, without warning, the band yanked us back into their old world with "Babel" — the one built on foot-stomps and heartbreak.

There was this moment during "Little Lion Man" where the entire arena sang louder than the PA — that sudden, lung-bursting unity that happens maybe twice a year at gigs. I felt it in my ribcage.

Marcus Mumford was on fire all night — funny between songs, ferocious during them. There’s a new confidence in the band they’ve shed their skin and somehow come out sounding bigger and louder.

At one point, during a quiet acoustic number, you could hear someone in the upper tier shout “GO ON MARCUS, LAD!” — and it actually added to the moment. He smirked, plucked the next chord, and it felt like something clicked.

Co-op Live is magnificent, look — the venue still has its problems. The trek to find your seat feels like being trapped inside a shopping centre designed by M.C. Escher. The prices are… let’s not talk about the prices. But when the sound hits?

When that towering LED screen behind the band floods the room with white light? For two hours, Co-op Live felt like a cathedral.

The big songs still hit like freight trains, when "The Cave" and in the encore "I Will Wait" kicked in, strangers were grabbing each other, phones were abandoned, and the floor physically shook.

And when Marcus said, “This is the happiest we’ve ever been,” just before the encore, you believed him. Every word. Tonight Mumford And Sons are a band who didn’t just return — they rose

Walking out into the cold, misty air after the show, ears ringing and throat wrecked, it struck me, Mumford & Sons are a band in full bloom again — louder, darker, and strangely more hopeful than ever.

Manchester roared for them.

And they roared right back.

SET LIST