Live Review: Mumford and Sons + Sierra Ferrell @ Rogers Arena, Vancouver – June 2nd 2026

Highly decorated folk rock trio from across the pond, Mumford & Sons, are keeping their musical torch burning. The band that redefined a genre stood alone in their time, rising to the top of a minor movement of West London folk. An unparalleled sound allowed them to walk their own path, blending literary allusions and Shakespearean quotation with flaming strings and urgent harmonies.

With an unwavering fighting spirit, Mumford & Sons attempt to “begin again” on a sweeping tour to promote their sixth studio album, Prizefighter, an effort with definite appeal despite noticeably softer edges. This week, Vancouver had the honour of being the first North American city to get a taste of the new album on stage. In this behemoth performance at Rogers Arena, the group made us fall in love with them all over again, rehashing their tunes from their wheelhouse and introducing us to new corners of inspiration.

American dreamer Sierra Ferrell opened the show with vaudeville flair, looking cut out of porcelain in a red satin babydoll dress with puffed sleeves, roses dangling from her hair, and white rhinestone cowboy boots. Her message of radical kindness in a landscape of hate rang through from the start, from the lyrics of “Rosemary” to peppered-in stage banter calling for unity and peace. “There’s a lot of chaos out there and just not looking at it isn’t gonna help it,” she mused.

Stellar storytelling, catchy hooks, all the hallmarks of classic country and a healthy splash of Dolly came together into a foot-stomping good time. She kicked up dust all over the stage as her commanding, raspy vocals melded sweetly with her soaring selection of string players, strumming in unison in clean matching attire. She even picked up her own fiddle to bow along to her credo of “I Can Drive You Crazy.”

Nashville-based with West Virginia roots, Ferrell encapsulates the best of Americana but with an enlightened glow-up. She played to the crowd, swapping out the lyrics of the familiar Trail of Flowers single to “Canadian Dreaming.” Preaching power to the people and eat the rich, the spirited performer banged her drum metaphorically and literally in a barn-burner, “Fox Hunt,” a strong finale to a whipsmart set.

The large stage fully came to life as Mumford & Sons seized the arena with an uncompromising performance that captured the breadth of their talents. Their stage designer outdid themselves, devising a pleasing wrought-iron cage backdrop with several moving pieces that continuously morphed. The elaborate backdrop housed illuminated embellishments speaking to the new album’s themes, and a semicircle that served as an industrial translucent screen for a live video feed.

The band sucked us in from the start with familiar favourites like “Little Lion Man.” The crowd handily carried the entire chorus, belting the ahhhhhs they’d been practicing at full volume in the car all these years. Playing the lovable rogue, Marcus Mumford oozed emotion in “White Blank Page” as if his heartache was still an open wound. His powerful vocals heated to boiling before winding down with his bandmates in a chilling three-part harmony.

Mumford eagerly showed his talents beyond the microphone, stepping behind the drum kit for “Lover of the Light,” filled out by a dazzling horn section and a host of other musical accompaniments. Despite being joined by a small army of musicians, the core members Ben Lovett and Ted Dwane did double and triple duty throughout the set. Not only did they smash the keys and upright bass, but so much more as they worked to craft the band’s delicate bridges and triumphant choruses time and again.

The concert took on a melancholy air as Mumford showed the maturity and restraint of his latest ballads, beating his heart under the spotlight. Hundreds of torches were whipped out on cue at the first strains of “Believe,” enhanced by the descent of a dazzling disco ball. But they didn’t keep us misty-eyed for long, bringing the energy right back up again. “If you thought we were serious, you’re having a laugh,” Mumford drawled. “We’re just here to fuck around!”

The band brought the heat with the heavy riffs of “Truth” and the continuous fireballs bursting all over the stage. During “Ditmas,” Mumford took everyone by surprise when he bolted off stage and circled the arena as if taking a victory lap. He scaled the stairs, singing all the while alongside unsuspecting fans, trotting casually through the aisles.

The crowd erupted as the band plucked the iconic banjo line of “The Cave,” which got the risers bouncing and the rafters shaking. They fired everyone up further with the Irish lilt and more spicy banjo of “Roll Away the Stone.” A massive grin crept over Mumford’s face in “The Wolf,” shredding the electric guitar with big rock energy, milking what felt like the big finale as strobes flashed and sparks tumbled down the back wall.

But even at the 90-minute mark, Mumford & Sons had more in store. Anticipation filled the room as the guys filed off purposefully and appeared moments later on a tiny stage near the back of the floor. In echoes of some dark corner booth during a pub jam, the trio gathered around a single microphone to give goosebumps with stripped-back “Timshel,” but not before more of Marcus’ brusque charm.

“This is a team game,” he toyed, “and this game is called ‘Thank you very much for coming and now shut the fuck up.’” The overexcited crowd did fine, but still couldn’t contain their joy nor resist the urge to hoot and holler in between lines. The miniature acoustic set was perfect, smoothed with Mumford’s vocal balm and freewheeling yet precise strings. Fans embraced and stifled tears to “Awake My Soul,” a track that has undoubtedly touched the souls of millions.

This was still not the end, and the band took one last kick at the can up on the main stage. Mumford couldn’t deprive us of one missing gem, “I Will Wait,” which radiated such joy that you could spy two elderly ushers swinging elbows with euphoric fans down on the floor throughout the track.

They doled out the best of Prizefighter, from its eponymous single to the happy-go-lucky “Banjo Song” and perhaps their only song to directly comment on the state of the world, “Conversation With My Son.” The musicians continued the marathon setlist past 11 p.m. just to make sure we got to hear that last one, as if needing to be seen for the multitudes they contain. After this stunning performance, I am convinced that they do.

Words by: Krysten Maier