I’ve seen it said that the key to a happy life as you grow older is to rediscover the things that brought you joy in your younger years. Getting back into old hobbies that you let fall by the wayside, reconnecting with friends you’ve not spoken to in an age, revisiting old haunts to see if they’re still as you remember them. Or, in this instance, rekindling your love for a band that you’ve not properly listened to in far too long. Icelandic outfit Of Monsters And Men’s debut album My Head Is An Animal was one of the crowning jewels of the indie folk boom that soundtracked my teenage years. I’ve drifted away from their music in the years since – the band themselves also drifting from their folk roots – both of us exploring new sounds. But with the sweeping, cinematic indie folk of their new record All Is Love and Pain in the Mouse Parade, seeing Of Monster And Men return to familiar ground, a little older and wiser, I though it only right I should follow suit.

Rekindling my love for OMAM wasn’t the only nostalgic return I experienced on this particular night, as it was also my first time back in Nottingham’s iconic Rock City in over a decade. Far too long! It was just as remembered it – an enormous barrel of a room, absolutely rammed with music lovers, the balcony view as much prime real estate as the front barrier. I have many fond memories of seeing immensely talented rising stars there, just before they made it big. In that respect too, I think Rock City hasn’t changed a bit, as the opening act – fellow Icelander Arny Margret – struck me as one to watch. Though the singer/songwriter seemed quite shy and soft-spoken, the crowd for the most part gave her bittersweet balladry the rapt attention it deserved. Her music had a kind of cosy, comforting melancholy to it; the ideal companion for a long dark winter. My only critique at the time came as her closing song featured her also playing harmonica, as it left me wishing her set had contained a little more of it. 

The stage was cloaked in shadow and drowning in haze as OMAM took their positions, especially fitting for the often dark and introspective atmosphere of their new record. Going into the gig I was unsure how cohesive their set would feel. How well the bright singalong folk of their early hits, the mature cinematic baroque pop of their new material, and the various forays into alt rock and electronica inbetween, would all sit alongside each other. Watching the band do their work was like standing on the shoreline watching the sea. One moment it’s a faintly rippling blanket, shimmering in the sunlight, the next it’s frothing and writhing as a distant rumble of thunder heralds an approaching storm. Yet it’s always the same sea. Whether it was the effervescent, light-hearted folk of ‘King and Lionheart’, the fittingly snappy alt rock of the anthemic ‘Alligator’, the rolling sea shanty vibes of ‘From Finner’, or the dreamy laidback groove of ‘The Towering Skyscraper at the End of the Road’ – in the moment it all felt like natural facets of the same band. 

Cuts from The Mouse Parade made up the bulk of the setlist. It can be a bit hit or miss when a band leans heavily on new material, but in this case it gave me a deeper appreciation for what a return to form their latest record is. Their sound has matured and polished up beautifully. ‘Tuna in a Can’ and ‘Ordinary Creature’ had some effortless crowd-pleasing hooks, while ‘The Actor’ might have the distinction of being the first time I’ve seen a band feature a melodica solo. ‘Television Love’ and ‘Fruit Bat’ meanwhile were the ideal tracks to bookend the evening. The former home to striking bursts of darkness akin to The National, while the latter was a grand, sweeping slow burn. There was still plenty of time spent on fan favourites in between however, with ‘Little Talks’ of course being the biggest crowd pleaser. I even got my wish for more harmonica, as Arny joined the band onstage to fill in for the song’s signature brass.

Though I expected to delighted by the interplay of voices from Nanna and Ragnar, at many points it was the drummer Arnar who stole the show for me. His playing was absolutely magnetic, bringing a wealth of both expression and energy across the whole evening. It added another dimension above and beyond what can be heard on the studio versions. The same can be said of the energy of the audience. It’s been a while since I’ve been part of such a densely packed crowd, but despite being crammed in like sardines, the spirits were high. An eclectic gathering of all ages and walks of life, joined together to sing, and stomp, and clap along. Some of them, like me, rekindling their love for Of Monsters and Men, and doubtless many more new converts falling in love with them for the first time.