Marcus quit TikTok before releasing his new record. He didn't want any comment to spoil his own experience of the album. It's the first record he's released without reading a single word of press — and he feels free.
Marcus quit TikTok before releasing his new record. He didn't want any comment to spoil his own experience of the album. It's the first record he's released without reading a single word of press — and he feels free.
Where this was said
At 25:45 · chapter starts 25:40
When the conversation turns to how Marcus finds new music now, he mentions TikTok in the past tense — he found a band called Divorce through the algorithm, became obsessed, got them on tour, and they recorded together. But then he went dark before releasing Prizefighter. [1] — Marcus Mumford "Marcus quit TikTok before releasing his new record. He didn't want any comment to spoil his own experience of the album. It's the first rec…" 25:45 He didn't want any comment anywhere, positive or negative, to alter how he felt about the record because he knew how he felt and he couldn't change it anyway. He describes this as the first time in his career he has released an album without reading a single word about it, and says he feels free. He adds that others run his social media now — he's intentional about what's posted but doesn't have to exist on any platform himself, which he considers a privilege.
Marcus Mumford deliberately quit TikTok before releasing his new record so no outside opinions or comments could affect how he experienced it.
For the first time ever, Marcus Mumford put out a record without reading a single word of press about it, and says it made him feel free.
When Carey Mulligan recognised Marcus at a Laura Marling show, she didn't go backstage. She left her email address with the tour manager. No phone number. Pure class.
When Carey Mulligan recognized Marcus at a Laura Marling gig, she left only her email address with the tour manager rather than going backstage — a move the hosts praised as classically elegant.
Reggae didn't emerge from thin air — it was built layer by layer from mento in the 1940s, ska in the late 1950s, and rocksteady in the mid-1960s. Each stage absorbed new influences, from transistor radios picking up Miami R&B to the distinctive 2-and-4 rhythmic accent that defines the genre.
Before hip-hop existed, Jamaican DJs were already doing it. Electricity spreading across Jamaica enabled mobile 'sound systems,' and DJs developed toasting — speaking and singing over recorded music — a tradition that DJ Kool Herc brought from Kingston to the Bronx at age 12.
Joe Higgs is reggae's great unsung hero. This Kingston musician took teenage Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, and Bunny Wailer under his wing and taught them how to sing, write songs, and make music — at a time when most artists would have focused on their own careers. Without him, the Wailers probably just would have sucked.
Reggae archivist Roger Steffens' analogy says it all: Bob Marley was reggae's Martin Luther King Jr., making the music universally palatable; Peter Tosh was its Malcolm X, inserting fierce militant political energy. Together, they gave the Wailers a depth no single voice could achieve alone.
King Tubby built his own hardware from cast-off recording gear to strip vocals and create dubbed-out instrumental reggae — essentially inventing electronic music in Kingston before Kraftwerk did it in Germany. The dubplate he created became the raw material for DJs to toast over, seeding hip-hop.
Two days before the 1976 Smile Jamaica anti-violence concert, gunmen shot Bob Marley in the chest and shoulder, shot Rita Marley, and wounded two others. He showed up and played anyway. The concert had already drawn accusations that Marley was a tool of the PNP government — a charge that frustrated him deeply.
Peter Tosh's killer was a man Tosh had taken in after prison, giving him shelter and food. The man repaid that generosity by holding Tosh hostage, torturing him for money, and shooting him in the head. It is one of the most brutal betrayals in music history.
The Windrush Generation brought Caribbean music to London after World War II, and reggae's 2-and-4 rhythm lodged itself deep in British culture — giving birth to ska bands like The Specials, pop acts like UB40, and even punk. Johnny Rotten was a reggae fan, and Public Image Limited has the dub influence to prove it.
Reggaetón didn't come from nowhere. It emerged from underground Spanish-language reggae-rap scenes in Panama and Puerto Rico, drawing directly on Jamaican reggae's rhythms and attitude. The line from Kingston to Bad Bunny's Super Bowl performance is a straight one.
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