If ‘Babel’ suggests division and confusion – a cacophony of competing voices – then it’s a misleading title for the new Mumford & Sons album. Listeners will find no musical upheaval or experimentation here. Their latest offering is essentially a refined version of their debut, Sigh No More. The glorious chaos promised by the title is sadly absent. Admirers of their first album will certainly enjoy this new collection of songs but those who value progression and innovation will be disappointed.

The banjo-plucking and stomping drums that characterised their first record return in full force. Mumford & Sons are clearly aware of what made their debut so successful: those dramatic pauses and rousing outros that proved so popular on Sigh No More are commonplace in Babel.  An acoustic guitar and a lone voice will suddenly be joined by banjo, brass and strings to create a stirring finale. Quite simply, they have mastered this formula.

Small variations in this well tested pattern allow the band to play with expectation; in ‘Not With Haste’ they move into a half-time breakdown just when fans will expect one of their signature bombastic climaxes. But as with any musical formula, repetition reduces its power. The album’s twelve tracks soon become indistinguishable. The biblical imagery that dominates the lyrics quickly becomes tiresome and only briefly comes alive on the track ‘Broken Crown’ (“Now in this twilight / How dare you speak of grace”) when Marcus’ vocals show their potential ferocity.

However, aside from the occasional moment, Babel is all sound and no fury. It’s an album that clamours for nothing. One feels this all the more strongly because of the link between folk music and political agitation. There’s no anger at injustice here – just a faux-bucolic atmosphere and an abundance of clichés: “Because I know my weakness, know my choice / But I believe in grace and choice.”

The final track ‘Not with Haste’ finishes on a moment of resolution: “And I will love with urgency / But not with hate”. Unfortunately, this finale lacks any sort of impact. Babel is a record devoid of urgency. Musically, it’s the product of a band that is quite happy to repeat what they’ve already accomplished. The concluding song may close the album’s narrative neatly, but it brings to an end a story that lacks emotion. There is no desire to evolve, there is no disorder to rectify, there is no desperation in Babel.

The lyrical imagery focuses on reconstruction, but the album itself appears to oppose this very sentiment: it seems that Mumford & Sons don’t feel that anything needs mending. Perhaps, in their eyes, nothing was ever broken. But what’s wrong with making an album that one knows their fans will enjoy?  After all, giving pleasure to the listener is surely what it’s all about? Any album has to perform a difficult balancing act: pleasing existing fans whilst also displaying development. Unfortunately, Babel feels stagnant.

It’s hard to see where Mumford & Sons can go from here – they have the capacity to create a stirring finale and can time a powerful pause perfectly, but how far can they take this? The use of tracks from Sigh No More on adverts hasn’t helped – we’ve become more or less immune due to constant exposure. Development is needed and hopefully their third album will bring this.