That musical DNA is all about bottling the feel of a late summer evening, fresh guitar riffs that conjure up coastal breezes and nights where the light never really leaves. Even in the thick of heavy emotions, there’s no room for darkness. It’s that carefree warmth where nothing feels quite as serious as it might in winter.

‘pratts & pain’ came together in South London under the careful guidance of Dan Carey. It pushed their sound towards gloomier territory, with grey skies seeping into the mix. If that was a detour, ‘hickey’ is the return trip. After four months in LA, the city left its mark on the music in ways both obvious and subtle.

Though the fingerprints of earlier EPs like ‘sofa kings’ and ‘bar & grill’ are still there, ‘hickey’ brings a different kind of heat. The EPs were beach-town bliss. ‘hickey’ is stickier, sweatier, the sort of unrelenting warmth that drives you slightly mad and makes you spill your guts just to get some relief. It doesn’t care for politeness or restraint; it’s laid-back, sure, but totally unfiltered.

It’s that breeziness that defines the album. Harsh truths slide in on groove-laden basslines and warm tones, never quite as scathing as they could be. And part of that may be thanks to Royel Otis chasing endless summer for three years now.

“We’ve been chasing summers. Because of festivals, we’ve been in summer for the last three years. As you can tell by our sweet, sweet tans…” Royel laughs.

That dazed, golden-hour haze pours into the album, drunken confidence, freckled skin, romantic sunsets. It’s a vibe they had time to stretch into, too. For once, there was no rush. The recording spanned over four months.

The songs sound more polished, more confident. They know who they are. They’re playful, too, ‘she’s got a gun’ comes alive with quirky percussion, while ‘say something’ is all breathless urgency and restless energy.

A key part of that exploration came from working with a broad roster of producers. From Jungle’s Lydia Kitto and Josh Lloyd-Watson to Omer Fedi and Blake Slatkin, ‘hickey’ is as collaborative as it is cohesive.

The album stays true to their core but pushes it further. ‘torn jeans’, made with longtime collaborator Chris Collins, bubbles into life with a glimmering riff and hazy vocals that nod to their past. ‘shut up’, by contrast, sounds like nothing else they’ve done, falsettos, R&B textures, a moment of real transformation.

“That was a real Hail Mary,” says Royel. Otis agrees: “We had pretty much the album done, and that idea came two days before finishing.” That track also signals a new directness. Previously known for slightly surreal lyricism, ‘hickey’ strips it back. It’s open, honest, and says what it means. “Don’t borey, get to the chorey,” says Otis. “Get to the point with some of the songs. Simplicity is good, you can hear everything clearer when there’s not a lot going on.” “K.I.S.S. Keep it simple, stupid,” nods Royel.

The lead single, ‘moody’, delivered that ethos loud and clear, a blunt vent to a mate about a relationship gone wrong. “I feel way more nervous and self-conscious about what I say,” Royel admits. Otis has a different angle: “There are a few songs on the album we wouldn’t have released four years ago. Boundaries were pushed. But it’s always nerve-racking putting stuff out.”

That bravery is all over ‘who’s your boyfriend’, a highlight that lashes out with the line, “you’re sleeping with him / but it’s me you’re thinking about”. With nostalgic guitar and a breezy delivery, even the messiest heartbreak never weighs things down.

The album feels like an ode to impermanence, a record built for in-the-moment confessions, impulsive joy, and last-minute decisions. There’s a new certainty in the chaos, a quiet confidence they didn’t have before.

“The more you do it, the more you narrow down what you like, and go ahead with confidence,” says Otis. Years of touring have helped them land on exactly what works. That instinct translates live, this time around, they even recorded with crowd reactions in mind.

Tracks like ‘car’ and ‘good times’ are built for big crowds, easygoing riffs, sparkling synths, and hooks that beg to be screamed back.

And fans already are. The pair have been road-testing songs on a run of intimate pop-up shows from New York and Berlin to London and Toronto. The response? Chaos. Crowds spilling onto streets. Impromptu sets on patios. A taste of what’s to come.

“So many people turned up,” Royel says. “It’s surreal. It’s a good way to suss the songs out, even if we’re doing them acoustically.” “It’s surprising seeing people sing lyrics to songs we haven’t released,” he adds. “How do you do that?” It might be harder to hold on to those intimate moments as the venues grow. Their handwritten ‘letters from Roy’ might continue, but the rooms won’t be small for long. “We do try to have those moments,” says Royel. “The other night in Lisbon, people were waiting at the barrier. It’s cool to go down and sign stuff. But with headline shows, it’s more difficult…”

With ‘hickey’, Royel Otis know exactly what they’re doing. Brazen and bold but romantic and sincere, they’ve delivered a record that soundtracks the sweet spot between chaos and clarity. An album for last calls, bad decisions, good intentions, and living before thinking.

A hickey fades eventually. This one might not. ■ Taken from the August 2025 issue of Dork. Royel Otis’s album ‘hickey’ is out now.