Of Monsters and Men Don’t Do Comebacks – They Reclaim the Room at the Roundhouse
- Alan Bryce
- 2 hours ago
- 3 min read
The Roundhouse London - 17th February 2026
WORDS / IMAGES ALAN BRYCE
Six years away? You wouldn’t have known it. If anything, Of Monsters and Men returned to London sounding like a band who’d spent the hiatus sharpening their instincts rather than second-guessing their relevance. Night one at Roundhouse wasn’t a nostalgia trip. It was a flex — just a subtle one.
There’s something poetic about their comeback unfolding in the Roundhouse’s circular sprawl. No hiding spots, no distant nosebleeds — just bodies pressed into a shared orbit. From the moment they strode out to “Television Love”, the room locked in. The track’s steady thrum felt less like an opener and more like a pulse check: London, are you still with us?
Spoiler: it was.
Support slot Árný Margrét set the mood with monk-like restraint. Alone, bathed in soft light, she delivered songs that felt almost intrusive to clap over. It was the kind of stillness most gigs are too impatient to allow — and it primed the room perfectly for a headline set built on tension and release rather than cheap peaks.
When Of Monsters and Men hit their stride, they did so with the confidence of a band who know exactly which emotional levers to pull. “Dream Team” and “Human” shimmered with fresh urgency, while “King and Lionheart” and “Little Talks” detonated in waves of communal euphoria. But here’s the twist: the old hits didn’t dwarf the new material. If anything, the newer cuts sounded leaner, sharper — less wide-eyed stomp-folk, more considered, grown-up.
Midway through, they tightened formation under dimmed lights, harmonising in close quarters like some pagan choir summoning the ghosts of their own back catalogue. The Roundhouse fell into stunned silence — the kind usually reserved for arena legends or church. It was goosebumps stuff.
Frontwoman Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir radiated wry charm, tossing out deadpan asides that undercut the grandeur just enough to keep things human. Opposite her, Ragnar Þórhallsson remained the band’s emotional ballast, their intertwined vocals still the axis everything spins around. When they harmonise, it doesn’t just sound good — it locks.
The crowd, for their part, understood the assignment. Yes, “Little Talks” triggered a thousand-strong singalong that rattled the rafters. But just as telling was the hush during “Ordinary Creature” and “Styrofoam Cathedral” — a London audience actually listening, not just waiting for the chorus. Miracles do happen.
The encore felt inevitable. Stomps thundered against the Roundhouse’s curved walls until the band re-emerged for “Love Love Love” and “Fruit Bat”, sending the place into one last surge of shared release. No confetti cannons. No LED overload. Just songs that still matter, delivered with intent.
In 2026, reunion culture is often a cynical algorithm play — dust off the hits, sell the tote bags, move on. Of Monsters and Men chose something braver: evolution without ego. Their Roundhouse return wasn’t about chasing their 2012 shadow. It was about standing in 2026 with clarity and saying: we’re still here, and we’ve still got it.
And on this evidence? They absolutely do.
SET LIST
Television Love
Dream Team
King and Lionheart
Tuna in a Can
Alligator
Human
The Actor
The Block
Mouse Parade
Dirty Paws
Empire Crystals
Ordinary Creature
Styrofoam Cathedral
Little Talks (with Arny Margret)
Visitor
Encore
Love Love Love
Fruit Bat
FOLLOW OF MONSTERS AND MEN
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