The duo Royel Otis, known for their unique blend of dreamy indie rock with a nostalgic twist, put on a show that felt like stepping into an inside joke shared between friends— those friends being the embodiment of oddball cartoons and high school garage parties. Hailing from Australia, and known for their modern covers of 90’s & 00’s hits like “Linger” and “Murder on the Dance Floor,” Royel Otis illuminated Oakland’s Fox Theater with eclectic banter and certified bangers from their new album, Pratts & Pains.
From the opening sequence, it was clear that this wasn’t just any Australian duo. The lights were dim, the backing track rumbled loud to hype the crowd up for a beat drop that any other show would result in the spotlighted band. And yet there when the beat dropped…a gigantic prawn! The first thing illuminated on stage was not the band members themselves, but out of the haze of vape smoke: a prawn. The whimsical nature of the early set attracted all the dawdling audience members and showered the night with an air of light-hearted fun. The best metaphor I can relate to the moment–and feel free to ignore my esoteric allusion— is the 2001 Spongebob Squarepants episode where they perform at the Bubble Bowl’s half-time show. The vibes skyrocketed up, and I knew then that the show was about to blow my socks off.
The stage lights were awash in heavy hues of neon pinks and deep blues that pulsed along with the music, casting a moody glow over the crowd. This was the perfect backdrop for Royel Otis’s sound: a mixture of distant, homey vocals and tight instrumentation that evoked both comfort and a pang of nostalgia. There’s a distinct charm in how Royel Otis performs. Sometimes sounding distant, or direct, the band creates a dream-like ambiance that I can fall away into. The lead singer, Otis Pavlovic, came onto stage dressed like an EECS major stumbling into Wheeler Hall 20 minutes late with a backpack that’s seen better days. Despite how he carried himself, he sang with a certain quality that made the room feel enveloped in their music rather than directly addressed. This choice created an ambiance as though he was singing not to the crowd but around it—building a warm, almost communal space without the pretense of frontman showmanship. His counterpart, Royel Maddell, arrived like a figure shrouded in an air of Cousin It-like mystery. On social media and in real life, Royel never shows his face and masks himself with his locks of gorgeous Aussie dirty-blond hair. I respect the bit, and it adds to my intrigue since he is playing mind-boggling groovy guitar riffs essentially blind. Royel and Otis came off as a “Berkeley-fied” version of Phineas and Ferb: an eccentric duo that make sense in their own chaotic way.
As the show moved from one track to the next, the seamless flow was both a strength and a mild critique. The songs, while melodically engaging, occasionally blended in a way that some songs could only be distinguished by the change in lighting design. It’s a testament to their cohesiveness, but in a genre already known for sounding too similar, a bit more variety would not have been detrimental. That said, their live performances of “Sonic Blue” and “Velvet” re-centered the show and exemplified their prowess to jam. With an understated hum of the bass and solid rhythmic core, the band was able to riff off one another and settle into a groove of laid-back fun. Once they found their footing in “Sonic Blue”, the second half of their set proved to overshadow their already great first half, interpolating their sounds for distinct and newer melodies.
The duo’s stage presence was subtle yet endearing. It was a performance with minimal crowd engagement, but somehow, that awkwardness became part of their charm. They never properly introduced themselves or their band. The most interaction with the audience instead came from their keys player, a “piano man”, who was more the unofficial hype man than a supporting member. He seemed to be the only one who dared speak into the microphone, albeit briefly and sporadically.
Royel Otis may not be a show with diehard fanatics chanting every lyric, but the way they craft their aura—like a calm midwest emo band no one expected—makes it worth the ticket. While they did not play the song they wrote for me on their latest album (“Molly”), they completed the night with their viral Sophie-Ellis Baxter and The Cranberries covers— a worthy fan service. They are like indie rock’s answer to an open-handed drumming style: unconventional, maybe even rushed at times, but full of moments that sneak up on you with a smile. Royel Otis is a reminder that music doesn’t have to murder the dance floor; sometimes it’s better when it lingers at a distance.
Review by Molly Ho, photos by Izzy Hory
