Marcus Foster – Tumble Down EP

You have to sympathise with Marcus Foster. Half a decade ago Britain would have hailed his oddly passionate vocal as the answer to all of our woes. In 2011 we’ll snuff and moan that it’s been done before. Tumble Down is nothing new.

To add insult to Foster’s injury, the musician who’s cornered the market shares the same first name. Not only does Marcus Mumford front a Brit Award winning band, he’s become an (albeit unlikely) pin up for the dubiously tagged nu folk movement. In the other corner Foster stands waving a sorry flag; thus far his material has achieved fame because Robert Pattinson recorded a cover of his song ‘Let Me Sign’ for the Twilight soundtrack. Before the music industry caught wind of Foster he’d been beaten to the top of the mulberry bush by Laura Marling’s ex-flame, and trod on like the crumbled remains of a Whedon style vampire. A better man would have given up.

Not Marcus Foster. His debut EP has been several years in the making. Now that it’s finished – and time has spun a considerable yarn between Foster and credible fame – will it make the distance? Unfortunately the answer is a rather glum no. These four songs will tickle the fancy of most folk fans, but they do nothing to prove Foster is an invaluable addition to our current fleet. The remotely sinister ‘Shadows of the City’ doesn’t rival the vicious penmanship of Kid Harpoon and Lupen Crook, and ‘You Send Me’ is Caucasian blues to Littlelostdavid’s shrieking howl. If you don’t have a clue who I’m talking about, that’s testament enough that similar, and better artists have failed to make the cosmic impression their music deserves. If they’ve lost out, then goodness knows why Marcus Foster will succeed.

Worse still Tumble Down does absolutely nothing to distance this Marcus from that Marcus. Eponymous track ‘Tumble Down’ could have been lifted from Sigh No More, melancholy introduction intact; such is its vague prophetic wisdom. Elsewhere producer Ian Grimble ensures the EP is awash in lighter fuelled silences, rousing choruses and lonesome guitar twinkles.

The plagiarism is so unashamed you have to wonder whether Foster has been living under a rock for the past year. I don’t question his authenticity, but had he any sense he would have strived to find a quirk even slightly unique. It’s a crying shame Foster would have to go to such resorts to be appreciated, but it’s foolish to deny that Mumford & Sons got there first. They have the fan base. The fan base may like Tumble Down, but it will always come second to Mumford & Sons’ rarest b-side. It doesn’t stand a chance. It’s a sad conclusion for a more than listenable release.