All dressed in black, an appropriate mourning attire for the colourful and carefree character of their previous album, Of Monsters and Men take to the Barrowland stage to introduce their matured sound filled with darker tones and longing lyrics that croon regret and sorrow. Taking advantage of a full stage, there being nine enthusiastic tour members, the audience is slammed by a native Icelandic sound that can shake anyone down to their core.
Their new sound draws a reminiscent feel of a far-off icy land you’ve yet to visit but long to see – constant gusts of surging instrumentals chased by thunderous drums beat right through your chest to catch your breath. Slicing through their full storm of sound are the always brilliant vocals of Nanna and Ragnar, sometimes distantly eerie and other times warm and comforting against the vast wave of sound.
Fans of OMAM are never disappointed with live performances – the energy encased in each song simply explodes from stage and spreads with giddy excitement. The audience is always encouraged to sing and jump along (not that they needed much pushing), especially when harking back to old classics like ‘Little Talks’ or ‘Six Weeks’. Despite the crowd size, OMAM still possess the charming gift of bringing a full venue to a hush with their more gentle serenades and fragile notes.
Looking back at my first time seeing them at Oran Mor for only £5, I can’t help but feel proud of these folk from the north. Working their way up to larger venues each time they visit Glasgow, I’ve never known them not to have a fully packed turnout. Reeling in masses of new fans each year, it won’t be surprising to see them reach stadium gig status and honestly, if any band deserves it, they do.