Hater vs Homer: The Lumineers are the worst band ever. No, wait, they're the best band ever.
The Lumineers are the most simultaneously loved and loathed band to come out of Denver since the Fray. You know why, right? They're also the most successful act to call this place home since the Fray. Last we heard, the Lumineers
were about a dick hair away from being are officially platinum. Success, as we all know, breeds contempt, which, naturally, spurs stern oppositional advocacy. That said, we could hardly think of a better group with which to introduce you to our latest feature: Sacred Cow Tipper, in which we pit Hater against Homer in a no-holds-barred, winner-takes-all death match. Haters gonna hate, or Homers appreciate everything that comes from our state? You decide. Brace yourself before you engage, though: This shit gets pretty ad hominem with a quickness. It starts with the music, but then it's never just about the music, now, is it?
The songs all sound pretty much the same
If you've heard "Ho Hey," you've pretty much experienced the bulk of the band's breadth. Although they obviously have other songs than the one that's been beaten mercilessly into your brain at this point, you'd hardly know it, particularly listening to the songs live back to back. It's all second verse, same as the first after a while, and none of them, frankly, combine to be as good as the one that started it all. This point was perhaps unintentionally driven home when the outfit performed a hometown show recently at the Ogden -- and played two different versions of "Ho Hey."
They're just capitalizing on a trend, you know?
Noah Van Sciver The Hater's a humorless dick. A confirmed cynic, not to mention a card-carrying curmudgeon, this smug contrarian asshole makes it his mission in life to tip over all so-called sacred cows.
We all know Mumford & Sons were first to the party, a fact that even the Lumineers themselves acknowledged in their recent New York Times profile. At the same time, they also noted how the comparisons bug them. The music of Mumford & Sons is more involved, Jon Pareles essentially noted in the piece, trying to make a distinction, while the Lumineers opt to keep things simple. To that, we say, come on, son! Think anybody truly believes that? Look, they're both drawing from the same well; it just seems that old Marcus and company have come up with a tastier blend. I mean, there's a reason one band took home a Grammy and the other went home empty-handed.
They try way too hard
Look, man; we get it. The band is going for the whole rootsy, throwback-pastoral aesthetic. And you wanna know what? When folks first hear they're from Colorado, you can see how it could probably work for them -- that is, until fans find out they're from New Jersey (well, except for Neyla; she gets a pass). It's like that old Pace commercial ("This stuff's made in New York City!") What's more, the whole thing feels pretty calculated. First, the suspenders: Kind of defeating the utilitarian purpose of the accessory when you also wear a belt. And those hats! Don't even get us started on the ever-present fedora.
Continue on for The Homer's take on the Lumineers