Marcus Mumford, the lead singer and primary songwriter of Mumford & Sons, has always written with his heart on sleeve and his soul in the palms of listeners’ hands. “Prizefigher,” the sixth studio record from the supergroup — which dropped on Feb. 20 — is musically aligned with the well-loved Mumford & Sons trademark that features banjo, resonant harmonies, and a full sound. Lyrically, the 39-year old pours his heart out, but the record is far more emotionally mature and evolved than ever before. While it is cohesive, enjoyable, and thematically relatable, it falls short. The record does not leave listeners with the same sense of emotional reckoning from earlier records “Sigh No More” and “Babel” that feature angsty, passionate, unsorted emotions.

Mumford’s relatively newfound fatherhood seems to be a part of his emotional grounding on the 14-track record. “Conversation With My Son (Gangsters & Angels),” begins in a retrospective lens that turns reflective and eventually ends in a long refrain in a present-centered lens with his son. “Here’s where Heaven starts / I end where you begin / With my hand over your heart,” repeats for the last half of the song alongside an emotional musical build that nearly draws listeners into the room with Mumford and his son. It pulls upon an implied lesson of the importance of stable emotional presence. For Mumford, this is a clear shift away from the movement, unease, and angst of the band’s early albums.

“Rubber Band Man,” the closing track “Clover,” and the title track “Prizefighter” are highlights of the record. They each feature the classic Mumford & Sons sound that is musically uplifting and truly powerful. “Clover” is notably more sensitive, but retains elements of the band’s beloved sound. Each of the three songs carries intense themes of emotional pain, but this time with mature acceptance of the pain. No longer riddled with a sense of aimless searching, these songs are not only musical masterpieces, but are also encouraging and invigorating for listeners who can be inspired by Mumford’s own emotional evolution heard within the snapshot of an album.

“Stay” and “Here” also have special places on the record for the nostalgia they invoke. “Stay” feels like an older, wiser lens of “Little Lion Man,” the band's first single, but now with less angst and self-shame. “Here” sets the musical tone for the record with upbeat percussion, electric guitar, and thick harmonies – a warm reminder that the Mumford & Sons brand has not been lost over the years of the band’s evolution. Together, they are time capsules that hold evolution and continuation in perfect harmony.

Mumford & Sons has far too many musical masterpieces to count, alongside many that are simply well-written, enjoyable songs — even the few that don’t resonate as deeply are still performed soulfully and are a delight to listen to. “Prizefighter” certainly has all of the above characteristics. Although something of a ragged jigsaw puzzle with its ebb and flow, as a whole, “Prizefighter” fits remarkably well and is a true gem.

Mumford & Sons have presented listeners with a beautiful, passionate yet emotionally present, holistically powerful and heartening record. “Prizefighter” feels like home for longtime fans with its musical and instrumental continuation. This familiar foundation paves the way for Mumford to gently hold his heart and soul out for listeners to understand with a newfound peace and acceptance in a more delicate, mature way than ever before. He no longer sings with the ache of unending sorrow, angst, and agony of younger Mumford. “Prizefighter” is a corner turned towards peace and light for the band. It may have had a brisk 10-day journey through the studio and into the world, but “Prizefighter” is an exceptional demonstration of many years of emotional discovery, growth, and evolution.