After each edition of Primavera Sound, our team winds up leaving feeling as if there was still so much left to discover. We’ll hear about the one young Spanish band we didn’t see after catching a handful of others, the one experimental performer that graced the indoor stage at two in the afternoon, the international act we only heard raves about once we arrived home. But that’s kind of the thrill of Primavera, one of the most unique festivals on the scene.
While the likes of South by Southwest and Iceland Airwaves pack dozens of venues with a dizzying scope of artists, there are tons of other festivals that rely on a handful of heavy hitters and then fill out a viable middle-card. Primavera sits somewhere in the middle. Sure, Sigur Ros, Radiohead, and LCD Soundsystem will steal the headlines, but they also provided some seriously unique choices on their park’s main stages, as well as the city-based events scattered throughout the week.
Primavera provides such an intensely well-rounded experience that it’d be impossible to get a view of the whole thing. But that didn’t stop us from trying. Considering the massive scope of artists and how there were four or five playing at any given time, we were hard-pressed to find too many slots in which we were stuck watching subpar sets. That said, when pitted up against each other, some stood out more than others. Gracias, Primavera!
–Adam Kivel
Executive Editor
Alex G
Best Ass (Apparently, We’re Told)
Photo by Amanda Koellner
“You guys seem really nice. We’re really nice too. We’re the nicest people I know,” Alex G began in a monotone, seemingly trying to find something to say while tuning. “We’re the sexiest people I know. What do you think of my ass? People tell me I have a great ass.” That sharp right turn is the kind of thing Alex Giannascoli has perfected in his off-kilter indie rock tunes over the last few years, building an empire on the outskirts with a plethora of bedroom pop records. But the tunes are often more fragile, open, emotionally available than that aside, as the evocative poetry of “Kicker” (“White bird in a black cloud/ Rain comin’ down, thinking hey/ Maybe we should turn this boat around”), which fared well especially when placed next to rawer screams. Tunes like “Bug” that required some studio tweaks for their recorded version felt rougher live, the vocalists recreating a pitch-shift with a strained falsetto. The set came across a little less emotionally connected than I’d have expected, almost even defensive, but the best songs still spoke for themselves. –Adam Kivel
Beach House
Most Suited to a Reclining Look at the Stars that Turns into a Nap
Photo by Amanda Koellner
Lets get this straight: Beach House have written some mind-blowingly good songs. Hearing “10 Mile Stereo” — at home, through a car stereo, on headphones on the train, through a massive soundsystem at a beautiful festival — will always send shivers down the spine. That said, there have undeniably been some diminishing returns for those of us lucky enough to have seen them on the festival circuit a few times since the 2010 release of their groundbreaking Teen Dream. The first time I saw them live, the set felt like it latched onto my heart and took it soaring. Though their Primavera set added on songs from three records since then, it didn’t feel all that different. It’s still beautiful music to get lost in and feel the world spinning, but personally it didn’t capture the same emotional connectivity that it once did. –Adam Kivel
The Last Shadow Puppets
Most Clumsy Sleaze
Photo by Amanda Koellner
There’s a very obvious leap between the massively packed field singing along together to “Creep” (the last song of Radiohead’s night, which ended moments before, across the field) and the remaining spectators trying to catch Last Shadow Puppets’ opening “Miracle Aligner”, as the majority flee the scene. On record, Alex Turner and Miles Kane’s music fumbles for words and oozes an uncomfortable pseudo-sex appeal. Live, that gets amped to 11, seeing Turner arch his back and grind his crotch against his mic stand. The band, including a string section, sounded professional enough, but the duo sounded like they were reciting someone else’s words, as on a binge-fueled karaoke session. That feeling was accentuated by professional, if rote, covers of The Beatles (“I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” and Leonard Cohen (“Is This What You Wanted”). But then again, covering The Beatles is kind of like a cheat code for a video game; sure, you win, but not of your own doing. –Lior Phillips
Cass McCombs
Most Likely to Make You Check Your Phone
Photo by Nina Corcoran
The second day of Primavera Sound Festival is built to prove why the middle child matters — the first day of any festival is a given, and the second day has to back it up. Kamasi Washington, AIR, Tame Impala, and LCD Soundsystem stood tall, garnering all the limelight and justifying a return to the park — but unfortunately some lesser-known acts were then bound to get at least a little caught in their shadows. Enter Californian singer-songwriter Cass McCombs with an evening slot at one of the larger coliseum-style spots, the Ray-Ban stage. The poetic catalog he’s built over the past decade is full of evocative, intimate songs, but a stage like this on a sunny evening is ill-fit for an understated performance that revels in tiny nuances, the type that got lost reverberating against the concrete expanse in front of him. –Lior Phillips
Angel Witch
Most Ill-Placed Metal Show
Photo by Amanda Koellner
The Saturday afternoon performance from Angel Witch was the perfect case of the right band in the wrong space. While intimate performers like Cass McCombs struggled on large outdoor stages, classic British heavy metal outfit Angel Witch were stuck indoors at the Auditori RockDeluxe, their fervent fans stuck seated in theater seats. Powerful songs like “White Witch” and “Atlantis” rang out viciously into the large hall, yet all energy seemed drained by the lack of interaction with the audience. There were plenty of people walking around the festival grounds with cutoff denim jackets, long hair, and Angel Witch shirts all weekend, and it’s a shame that they couldn’t have seen the metal heroes in their proper element. –Adam Kivel
GOAT
Most Likely to Walk Barefoot Between Comparative Religion and Modern Dance Classes
Photo by Nina Corcoran
Theatrical and groovy, the heavily costumed Goat make for a strange experience. Their droning, classic rock-tinged jams are covered in the trappings of “world music” — a term that usually feels presumptuous or even proprietary. But considering the Swedish outfit’s jumble of beaded masks, colorful tunics, animal horn and shell necklaces, flip-flops, and hippie dance moves, it might be the most fitting use of the phrase, somehow of the “world” and yet nowhere very specific. That said, when their grooves hit, they hit hard, and songs like “Goatman” and “Disco Fever” will never cease to get hips shaking, no matter what part of the world. It should come as no surprise that I spotted multiple hula-hoopers in the crowd, a first for my time at Primavera. –Adam Kivel
Richard Dawson
Best Acquired Taste
Photo by Nina Corcoran
As an American at a massive European festival trying to get the most out of the experience, I found myself extremely grateful for advice from overseas colleagues on what to check out. One UK writer suggested checking out Richard Dawson. “Big bearded weirdo,” he said. “Elliott Smith meets Captain Beefheart.” With that, I was off to the Auditori RockDelux, excited but a little unsure of what was to come. And, frankly, after seeing the set, both of those emotions hold. Dawson wandered onstage, asked whether everyone could hear him without the mic, and then shout-sang a tune about, I’m pretty sure, going after a loose sheep, killing it, and bringing it home to share with the family. A fan calling out in a thick Scottish accent perked up his ears, and the two exchanged some friendliness before the music continued. Dawson then proceeded to pick up his guitar and go through outsider art-y folk-adjacent tunes based at least in part on re-tuning strings as he went. It seemed like an acquired taste, one I didn’t have going in but might be picking up, as I continue listen to his songs now a few days later. –Adam Kivel
Vince Staples
Most Hands Raised When Asked
Photo by Nina Corcoran
Vince Staples consistently urged the Barcelona crowd on, trying to get them as pumped as possible — which, as is the norm in my experience at Primavera, consisted more of grooving and raising hands and giving it up when asked, rather than getting truly wild. They followed his directions to a T, gleefully chanting “fuck the police” back at him in a melange of various accents. Staples, meanwhile, was his usual explosive self, limbs flailing across every single available square inch of stage. The propulsive “Lift Me Up” and “Norf Norf” were absolute highlights, the bursts of flame projected behind him matching Staples’ style. Even if the crowd wasn’t as raucous as one back home, they certainly appreciated his energy. And now we all know where it comes from: “I drank some coffee, I drank some water,” he noted of his day. “I was offered some weed, but I said no because I don’t do drugs.” –Adam Kivel
Battles
Best Non-Dance Dance Set
Photo by Nina Corcoran
If you’ve seen Battles once on a tour, it’s more likely than not you will see the exact same set any other night on the same leg. Over a decade into their career, Battles aren’t looking to throw in deep cuts. Instead, the art rock trio indulge the math side of their music by showing just how hard it is to match up all those time signatures and tempos in the live setting without samples being cued up a second too early. That precision allowed for a set of dance-ready rock at Primavera, from the giddiness of “Ice Cream” all the way to the choral chants of “Atlas”. Ian Williams, John Stanier, and Dave Konopka weren’t looking to try anything new, but rather to perfect what they know — and the audience was eager to revel in that right from the start. –Nina Corcoran
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Dungen
Best Wood Flute
Photo by Nina Corcoran
It should come as no surprise to anyone that’s listened to Dungen that the most excited dude in the crowd was the guy with the paisley shirt and long, flowing locks gleefully jumping up and down. The Swedish psych rock outfit have crafted a long career out of freewheeling, jammy rock sounds, and to great acclaim, particularly 2005’s Ta det lugnt. The highlight of that album, and this set, was “Panda”, an effervescent jam with a big hook. Johan Holmegard’s bouncy, jazz-inflected drums kept things moving, and the group’s high harmonies carried well on the soft breeze. That said, frontman Gustav Ejstes’ turn at the front of the stage with a wood flute brought the most smiles, spinning hippy grooves into a prog rock jam that the whole crowd could get into. –Adam Kivel
