Since emerging from my all-beloved Iceland in 2010, Of Monsters and Men have turned stories of love, loss, monsters, and memory into songs that feel deeply personal and relatable to a wide audience. After a multi-year break from touring, the indie-folk collective has returned to stages around the world with The Mouse Parade Tour. I was especially excited to catch their Melbourne stop, which is one part of a tour spanning more than 35 shows across North America, Australia, and Europe, including festival appearances.
This was a very special night for me. Of Monsters and Men were the soundtrack to my early teenage years. I spent countless hours blasting “Little Talks” at full volume and, years later, found myself introducing the same song to friends and younger generations. If I’m being completely honest, I hadn’t followed the band closely over the past few years. Even so, this show reminded me exactly why I fell in love with them in the first place, and why their music still matters so much to me. If you mainly remember Of Monsters and Men for a handful of early hits, this is your sign to revisit their newer work. Trust me, there is far more here than nostalgia alone. Somewhere between the first notes of “Television Love” and the final encore, I found myself falling in love with the band all over again.
It was a rainy, cold night in Melbourne, but soon our hearts would be filled with warmth. There is something special about being in a room where thousands of people share memories attached to the same songs from years ago. Long before the band stepped onto the stage, you could feel anticipation lingering around the St Kilda Palais Theatre. Before Of Monsters and Men took the stage, Australian singer-songwriter Gordi warmed up the crowd with an intimate support set. Having toured with the band before, her connection to them felt genuine, and her atmospheric, soulful vocals and honest storytelling created the perfect introduction to the evening ahead. Then the lights dimmed. Opening with “Television Love,” Of Monsters and Men immediately showcased their newer material. The band has built a loyal following through a sound that blends indie folk, rock, and storytelling, creating something that feels entirely their own. Mystical, powerful, and a little bit out of this world — just like Iceland itself.
At the heart of it all are Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir and Ragnar “Raggi” Þórhallsson, whose voices remain one of the most distinctive pairings in modern indie music. Nanna commanded the stage with an almost fairy-like presence, effortlessly balancing power and vulnerability throughout the night.
What I loved seeing most was the chemistry among the band members. With very few lineup changes over the years, there is a familiarity between them that feels like family. That closeness made the performance feel less like a touring act and more like a group of old friends doing what they love most. That connection translated directly to the audience. When “King and Lionheart” filled the theatre, every word was sung back towards the stage, and you could see tears running down people’s faces (mine included). The same happened throughout favourites such as “Dirty Paws” and “Crystals,” proving just how deeply these songs remain embedded in people’s lives more than a decade after their release. In contrast, newer songs such as “Mouse Parade” showed a band still evolving rather than relying on past successes.
I will no longer “just know” them for “Little Talks,” but for creating an atmosphere that felt impossible to forget. Over the years, I learned to be more vulnerable, and so did they with their music. One of my favourite parts of the evening was simply watching the musicians at work. The arrangements felt incredibly rich live, with instruments constantly moving in and out of the spotlight. My partner became completely fascinated by Nanna’s use of the melodica. This small keyboard, played by blowing air through a mouthpiece, added a beautiful texture to several songs. He also talked long after the show about drummer Arnar Rósenkranz Hilmarsson.
Whether behind the drum kit or later sitting at the piano, he seemed to power the entire performance. That presence carried the set from one moment to the next. One of the evening’s standout moments came during “Ordinary Creature.” Nanna’s vocals were raw, powerful, and completely captivating, reminding everyone in the room why she remains one of indie music’s most compelling frontwomen. The moment I will remember most came just before “Little Talks.” The band slowly gathered together in a circle at centre stage, wrapping their arms around one another while Arnar sat down at the piano. As he began playing a delicate melody, the rest of the band hummed softly. The entire theatre fell silent. For several minutes, thousands of people sat still, watching a group of musicians who had spent more than fifteen years creating music together. There was something deeply intimate about the moment, with no dramatic visuals or sounds. It felt as though they were taking a moment to honour the journey they had shared before launching into the song that changed everything.
I found myself unexpectedly emotional and cried. Again. Maybe it was the nostalgia that brought back good and bad times from my life. Maybe it was seeing them standing together after all this time. Maybe it was the reminder of how rare it is to stay connected to your friends, your art, and the people who have grown alongside you. Whatever it was, it left me emotional. Whatever it was, I wasn’t the only one wiping away tears. And then, almost instantly, the opening notes of “Little Talks” rang out. The crowd erupted, and everyone got up to dance. For a few minutes, the Palais Theatre wasn’t filled with strangers anymore. It felt like one giant choir singing back the soundtrack to their younger selves. As the final notes faded and the band took their bows, the standing ovation felt less like appreciation and more like gratitude. The notes of love, love, love are still stuck in my head. It has been a magical experience, one I would love for more people to share. I am very grateful for who I got to share this evening with, and grateful for the band and their passion and humour. I am also grateful for an evening that reminded everyone in the room why live music continues to matter.
Words by Karoline Kopka
Photography Peoples perceptions
Top image credit Eva Schram
