A little bit of culture

Ah, Monday. It seems like only a couple of days since Friday and my office chair is still warm.
That said - excellent weekend. Very cultural, apart from my language while watching Stoke City lose a cup match to Chelsea.

Saturday night saw me attend Mumford and Sons, a young indie-folk band making waves over here. I knew they'd become the centre of a cult but hadn't actually heard a note of their music - I went because I got Emma a ticket for Christmas and thought it would be rude to send her solo. The only other thing I know about them is that Cynical Ben thinks they're the Worst Band In The World.

Are they? No. Live, they (and the support band, Fanfarlo) are brilliant - a mix of folk, Arcade Fire, Beulah and (in the odd apocalyptic number, War of the Worlds). The album, to which I listened the next day, is much flatter and the lyrics don't stand up to close scrutiny, but they are utterly thrilling live.

Sod off, by the way, to the bunch of students behind me. They chattered extremely loudly and inanely through all the songs, breaking off occasionally to shout the first line of a chorus half a bar before the band, presumably to prove that they knew the words. They are, collectively, a warty buttock.

In total contrast, I went to see Simon Rattle conducting Bach's St. Matthew's Passion at Birmingham Symphony Hall (3 hours, distinctly anti-semitic, in German - though with electronic surtitles in an very good typeface). A sellout crowd heard a period-instrument rendition (complete with viols, which I love), a children's choir for the first movement and a stunning set of soloists. The snobs next to me told each other that it was too fast but as I'd read the same opinion in a newspaper recently, I suspect they were trying to impress each other. I'm not expert enough to know whether the rapturous reception Rattle and the performers got at the end was due to the music or his superstar status, but I went away extremely happy.