he title of the song and the first verse show that “Broad-Shouldered Beasts” is set in New York City, the perfect place for presenting a calming contrast to a frightening and overwhelming life. Mumford develops this by singing that “[b]road-shouldered beasts fill the sky,” which, as Friend-from-Brazil Victor pointed out to me yesterday, are “Manhattan’s skyscrapers.” The next line, “Manhattan beats at the night,” shows that the city is alive and moving like a never-ending pulse.
Unfortunately, Mumford’s friend (to be referred to as “she” henceforth), according to Friend-from-Brazil Victor “feels the weight of [a] meaningless life,” and is “wrapped up in wire,” which could be symbolic of the trials and difficulties in life that, like barbed wire, can trip someone up and trap him or her. This entanglement leaves Mumford’s friend, “Curled up in fright.”
Mumford wants to help her, so he takes her “to the city for the night / To dance under dizzy silver lights.” He hopes this will help her to forget her worries and to be happy for a little bit. And it works: “But for a moment, you were wild / With abandon like a child, just a moment.” Unfortunately, that “moment” doesn’t last and the subject returns to her depressed, frightened state.
In the chorus, Mumford sings to her, “But wasn’t it you who said I was not free? / And wasn’t it you who said I needed peace?” Several things could have happened here, but this person seems to have been a carefree spirit who had suggested Mumford “lighten up.” Unfortunately, her easy-going philosophy seems to have dissolved in the face of real difficulty, leaving her “floored by fear of it all,” and with only Mumford’s plodding, steady friendship to support her.