Marcus Mumford and Ted Dwane are convulsing with laughter on a sofa in a plush dressing room in the bowels of the O2 arena. “Absolutely golden,” grins Mumford. The source of their mirth is a shopping list of insults levelled at their band Mumford & Sons by Liam Gallagher early in their career — a list being diligently relayed back to them, with just a hint of trepidation, by myself.
“They look like Amish people and are as rock and roll as a blue rinse,” I quote.
