Live Review: Mumford & Sons, Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros, Willy Mason

“It's like Prometheus in here, the depths of the cave.” He's right, you know. Never before has Rod Laver looked so intimate as opening act Willy Mason greets the darkened venue, lit only by fairy lights suspended low above the standing crowd. The soloist from Massachusetts twangs his way through a set of modern folk and blues. At first, the initial stadium buzz makes it hard to adjust to the tempo-drop but, by the end, his pensive tales win the crowd over.

Two minutes into the set and already frontman Alex Ebert of Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros has run up the aisle of the lower seated section. Fans hang off his every limb as he attempts to run back down, yet struggles against the current and settles on the landing, where he finishes singing the opening tune. Their big-band, American folk songs soar in the arena setting, made possible by co-vocalist Jade Castrinos and the up-to-18-member live band, transcending the already high expectations from their recorded LPs. An early winner is 40 Day Dream followed closely by That's What's Up before Ebert announces, “I'm going to do a religious song and try and convert you all to Christians,” with the southern gospel chant I Don't Wanna Pray. Yet no song trumps their hammock-swaying classic, Home; one that has Ebert bouncing and tumbling about the stage, sparking the memory of a bandmate who yells, “Last night at Cherry Bar you ruled that dancefloor for hours!”

All four members of Mumford & Sons arrive and take a moment to stare at their stomping, squealing fans. The moment is gloriously ironic; here's a band that have built their music around the image of rustic, barnyard hoedowns now staring out to an endless sea of arena ticketholders. Yet if the last few years are anything to go by, such success is inevitable. After emerging out of the West London folk scene, the English lads won over audiences worldwide with their 2009 debut Sigh No More. They open with Lovers' Eyes, an earnestly progressive tune off their second album, 2012's Babel, and pound their instruments with fervor. Interestingly, they leap straight into their biggest hit to date, Little Lion Man, a track that won the coveted triple j Hottest 100.

Mumford & Sons have a rare talent. The set is packed with anthemic, modern-folk sing-alongs and there's not one member who lags behind, or any song that's played without zeal. Instead, they share a genuine camaraderie no doubt born from a love of their musical roots. Lead singer Marcus Mumford makes up for lost banter with his beautiful, impassioned precision performed during ruminative tracks such as Timshel, yet at the core of the live set is keyboardist Ben Lovett, who, as well as pounding the keys (and almost toppling them over completely), speaks on behalf of his shy bandmates and modestly announces, “It's terrifying playing to a room of this size. Thank you for making it so intimate”.

Dust Bowl Dance rounds up the set before they return for the encore and play their latest hit, Babel, followed by Where Are You Now? The Cave is crowd favourite of the night, with the seated folk leaping to their feet to dance. Both supports are invited back for a cover of Fleetwood Mac's The Chain, a display that reaffirms the rapport of these touring groups. Sigh No More is sadly absent from the setlist – nevertheless, after nearly two sensational hours of hand waving, foot stomping and huge sing-along choruses, we're quick to forgive.