Finally, here we are to tell you about our last day at Barcelona’s most famous Festival. Day three started with a Spanish, or better, Catalan taste, listening to Manel, probably the most famous indie-rock band of Catalunya. The Spanish indie scene is maybe not so much original, but it surely doesn’t lack quality, and those guys proved it with a well-refined exhibition containing highlights such as Benvolgut or Sabotatge. Then it was time to go on to a more polished show and so we moved to the Pitchfork stage, where Scandinavian Jenny Hval gave us a performance of rare beauty, mixing cleverly her delicate voice with interesting technical choices. The strongest point of the Norwegian girl has been without doubts the representation of the arduous path from light to darkness of a woman overwhelmed by society’s demands. In the end we felt like we were being carried more into a journey than through a concert.
But no time for rest, at the H&M stage Bradford Cox was waiting for us. Deerhunter exhibition was splendid and magistral. People (and us with them) were captivated and dragged by the old and new songs of those Atlanta-based guys while their leader, with a funny hat on his head, conducted the whole thing.
But the best was still to come. Properly announced by a drum roll and a procession Polly Jane Harvey arrived at the Heineken stage to officiate her ritual. I must admit I had a very shallow knowledge of this British songstress, and that’s why her show left me even more bewitched. She seemed kind of a mix between an elf, a priestess and a saint. Her music was completely on an upper level, probably also because of the terrific musicians who accompanied her. Switching between voice and saxophone this wild goddess was almost able to stop time, gifting the audience with one of the most unforgettable moments of this Primavera Sound. On the other hand, a band which tragically betrayed our expectations was Sigur Ros. With their new, reduced three-piece formation the Icelandic group par excellence tried a new direction, which started with their last album Kveikur. But it seems that leaving their quiet, atmospheric style for an harder post-rock attitude is not working. They aren’t Mogwai or Explosions in the Sky, that’s simply not their thing. And if the new, overwhelming versions of their old tracks sometimes sounded pretty interesting (Glosoli, Staralfur) the rest of the live made us ask ourselves where was the band we loved.
Lastly, we spent our final night switching between Ty Segall‘ stage, where craziness is one of the family, and the imposing Moderat‘s exhibition. About the first, a friend made me notice that, regardless the strongness of his sound and his histrionic attitude, the lack of good lyrics surely is his main weak spot, even if that night it didn’t seem to count too much for his fans. Meanwhile, Apparat and Modeselektor were overwhelming the entire east-side of the festival with their deep, piercing basses. Sascha Ring seemed totally comfortable into his role of frontman, and the trio has shown an undoubtable growth since their set on Primavera 2014. Eventually, the night ended waiting for the dawn on the Rayban amphitheatre and listening to the coarse pop of Dj Coco, as per tradition. Primavera Sound kept one more time all its promises and the huge success of this edition (everything was sold out, included Primavera Pro’s accreditations) is a clear signal that organisers are following the right path. It’s always mournful to come back home and let this enchanted garden, but the next year isn’t so far and we’ll be there to tell you once again about music, concerts and atmosphere of the most enchanting European festival.
And for now that’s all, folks!
All photos by Eric Pamies, courtesy of Primavera Sound Festival.