Marcus Mumford has never wanted to be a poster boy for Christianity. But his new song ‘Malibu’ may, nonetheless, be capturing a cultural moment, says Robin Ham 

2025-02-14T000000Z_1693342964_MT1SIPA0000QBR3E_RTRMADP_3_SIPA-USA

Source: Reuters

Ever since Mumford & Sons’ début album Sigh No More was released in 2009, listeners worldwide have grown accustomed to hearing lead singer Marcus Mumford articulating questions, weariness, and the struggle to believe.

Perhaps this trajectory was expected from a new-found rock star known to have grown up as a pastor’s kid in the Vineyard movement, but who now, like many, had distanced himself from organised religion. 

But in ‘Malibu’ - one of the taster tracks from the band’s first album in seven years - something seems to have shifted.

Instead of scepticism, we hear surrender. Instead of restless wandering, a sense of finding refuge. And just maybe, this will be the anthem of a generation rediscovering the Christian faith

From doubt to surrender 

After the band’s second album, Babel, was released in 2012, Marcus Mumford gently scolded a Big Issue reporter for not noticing the past tense in the line: “I set out to serve the Lord” (from the song ‘Whispers in the dark’). When pressed on his own faith, he retorted: “I don’t even call myself a Christian. ‘Spirituality’ is the word we engage with more. We’re fans of faith, not religion.” 

‘Malibu’ doesn’t just explore faith; it  captures an authentic response to the gospel 

But as their familiar folksy guitar riffs return to the airwaves in 2025, something feels different. Gone is the vague spiritual wandering of the past records. Instead, in ‘Malibu’ we hear a desperate confession of need: “You are all I want / You’re all I need / And I’ll find peace beneath the shadow of your wings.” 

Rather than the despair of someone hedging their bets, this is the cry of a person collapsing into grace. And perhaps this is the kind of anthem our culture didn’t realise it needed. 

A cultural shift? 

Recent data suggests a subtle but noticeable shift in UK attitudes toward faith. In an unexpected reversal of previous trends, a recent YouGov survey tracking British beliefs about God showed a decline in those identifying as atheists and a rise in those affirming belief in God

Meanwhile, high-profile voices are expressing a new-found openness to faith. Journalist Giles Coren recently wrote a column in The Times entitled: “I’m giving up atheism for Lent.”  Wikipedia co-founder Larry Sanger publicly announced his return to Christianity after decades of scepticism, sharing how reading the Bible cover-to-cover in 100 days led him to embrace Jesus as his saviour. Stormzy stood on the stage at the BRIT Awards and read from Psalm 138, declaring that Jesus was not finished “doing a work in him.” 

Church leaders across the UK are noticing it too. While conversion stories may still come in ones and twos, there is a different energy around exploring faith, when compared to five or ten years ago. Younger people, often men, seem to be wandering into churches to find out more. Dare we say it; but it feels like a quiet but significant shift is taking place. 

The shadow of your wings 

So back to the song, and it’s fascinating to see how its dominant imagery - “beneath the shadow of your wings” - echoes one of scripture’s most tender invitations. The phrase appears throughout the Psalms, describing God as a refuge for the weary, but it is also found in the book of Ruth, where Boaz affirms Ruth for coming in humble faith to find mercy under the wings of Israel’s God. In this way, ‘Malibu’ doesn’t just explore faith; it appears to capture an authentic response to the gospel that is far more engaged than intellectual curiosity or media-savvy agnosticism. 

According to the band, ‘Malibu’ was the first song written when Mumford & Sons reassembled in Los Angeles in early 2023. The title likely nods to LA’s well-known beach, but its lyrics clearly point to something deeper: “But walking through the valley was what brought me here / I knew I would never make it on my own / And I don’t know how it took so long to shed this skin / Live under the shadow of your wings.” 

If ‘Malibu’ is about finding shelter, then perhaps it’s significant that Mumford himself has been walking through some dark valleys. In 2022, he revealed that he had been sexually abused as a child. His brave début solo single, ‘Cannibal’, also released that year, confronted the trauma of those experiences with unflinching honesty. He spoke openly about undergoing therapy to process his past. Could it be that ‘Malibu’ represents the next step in that journey - a place not just of healing, but of surrender? 

Look hard and there may even be an allusion to one of CS Lewis’ most powerful images in the lyrics too. In his novel, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Eustace Scrubb, a greedy, self-centred character, becomes a dragon, consumed by the very thing he once pursued. At first, he tries to scratch off his scales, but he later discovers that only Aslan can tear them away, revealing a Eustace that is now truly human. 

Mumford sings: “I don’t know how it took so long to shed this skin,” and it’s hard not to hear echoes of Lewis’ imagery - the painful, yet necessary, transformation that comes only through surrendering to grace. 

From disillusionment to hope 

Mumford is no stranger to spiritual questioning. But ‘Malibu’ feels like more than just another exploration of faith - it resonates as a declaration of need and the discovery of hope. And as cultural attitudes toward Christianity begin to shift, perhaps this song is tapping into something broader: a growing sense that, after decades of disillusionment, people can find what they’re looking for. 

This is the cry of a person collapsing into grace. Perhaps it’s the kind of anthem our culture didn’t realise it needed 

Of course, it would be a mistake to label Mumford too neatly - or to cast him as some kind of Christian poster boy. He has long resisted being put in a box, and there’s no indication that ‘Malibu’ is intended as a grand statement of faith. But perhaps that’s not the point. What this moment might reveal about the broader cultural mood is perhaps more interesting.  

When an artist known for wrestling with faith shifts from doubt to a more direct longing for God, it resonates - not because it signals a personal conversion moment, but because it reflects a deeper spiritual undercurrent moving through a generation. Yes, at one level this is a nearly-40-year-old reflecting on his own journey, set to an infectious melody. But in doing so, Mumford & Sons may also be giving voice to a generation that is reconsidering faith with fresh eyes. ‘Malibu’ may not have been written as an anthem for a spiritual awakening, but it just might become one.