Review: Royel Otis at the Ice Cream Factory
Royel Otis at the Ice Cream Factory
w/ Florence Road
Thursday, October 30, 2025
Sydney indie duo Royel Otis brought their dreamy, melodic sound to the Ice Cream Factory in Northbridge on Thursday night, and from the first note of i hate this tune, the night had a spark that didn’t fade. The song opened the set with playful energy, Otis’ voice smooth and warm, perfectly live, while Roy’s guitar provided a steady, understated backbone that let every note land naturally. Right from the start, it felt like a band completely at ease on stage, yet completely in control of the room.
The evening began with Florence Road, who were fun, infectious, and easy to watch. Their songs were upbeat and catchy, full of personality, and they had a way of making the crowd feel instantly involved. Between songs they joked, laughed, and seemed genuinely thrilled to be there, which made the audience respond in kind. People were nodding, moving, and smiling along, and by the time they wrapped up, the room felt warmed up and buzzing—ready for the main act. Their set wasn’t flashy, but it was joyful, charming, and set the perfect tone for what came next.
Once Royel Otis took the stage, the vibe in the room shifted. Otis’ subtle, quirky movements and magnetic stage presence drew everyone in immediately, while Roy’s precise guitar work provided the perfect foundation for each song. The set flowed naturally, alternating between dreamy melodies, upbeat tracks, and lively moments that kept the audience engaged. Songs like Say Something and Sofa King had the crowd singing along almost instantly, while Oysters in My Pocket, the final track, brought the perfect mix of energy and reflection to close the night.
The covers were standout moments in a set that already felt strong. Murder on the Dance Floor, originally by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, turned the venue into an instant dance floor. The crowd moved with abandon, clapping and cheering as the band leant into the song’s infectious energy. Later, Linger, originally by The Cranberries, slowed things down in a way that felt almost intimate. The lights softened, and the audience collectively swayed, singing quietly, while soaking in the atmosphere. Both covers felt effortless—clearly part of the band’s DNA—and highlighted their ability to reinterpret songs without losing their own identity.
Visually, the show was just as compelling. Behind the band, a screen projected quirky, slightly surreal animations that shifted with each song. Bursts of colour, abstract shapes, and dreamlike sequences complemented the mood of the music, giving the performance a layered, immersive feel. The visuals never distracted from the live performance but instead drew you further into the world that Royel Otis were creating on stage.
The Ice Cream Factory itself suited the performance perfectly. Intimate enough to catch every small expression, yet open enough for the crowd to circulate freely, the venue felt alive without ever being overwhelming. The sound was crisp, the lighting soft and effective, and the audience engaged in a way that felt natural, adding to the experience without ever distracting from the performance.
By the final song, Oysters in My Pocket, the audience was fully absorbed. Everyone was singing, swaying, and soaking in the last moments of the night. The combination of Otis’ vocals, Roy’s guitar, the carefully curated setlist, and the immersive visuals created a show that felt cohesive and unforgettable. The crowd left humming melodies, replaying favourite moments, and talking about the covers—proof that Royel Otis translate their recordings into live performances effortlessly.
In short, Royel Otis delivered a show that was unmistakably theirs—playful yet polished, dreamy yet dynamic. From i hate this tune to the closing notes of Oysters in My Pocket, the performance showcased everything that makes the band so compelling live. With Florence Road bringing warmth, fun, and energy at the start, the night felt vibrant, welcoming, and entirely memorable—the kind of show that lingers long after the lights come on.
MOLLY ELLIOT