Well, as we all know the Spanish start late, ending nonsensically into the early hours, just in time to get a metro back to bed, fending off the territorial minx waiting on me arriving home, before getting up and doing it all again.
It’s not a festival for those that like to rough it in the beauty of their own sweat as the sun hits their tent, rousing in the morning of a Glastonbury field. Urban landscape, concrete stomping ground, hotels and airbnbs for these metropolitan hipsters.
Following a rehydrating drench from the weekend’s ominous thunderstorms, whilst a hidden John Grant (Iceland’s newest and most talked about resident) was treating us to Pale Green Ghost and Black Belt, Friday’s atmos enlivened with the sight of a rainbow, and all took to their various stages, for their desired genres. FKA Twigs was next on my list, over at the Pitchfork Stage, with favourable word of mouth and the much talked about new release that we are all eagerly awaiting (and she has recently sold out the London arm of her tour which is at the end of this month).
Lucid in her movements, entrancing the nervous upbeat crowd with her performance, clearly there is much awaiting this avant-garde female singer. However, this could not keep me when reformed Slowdive were a short couple of hundred yards, and literally shimmering.
Pleasing old fans, and embracing new, Slowdive were performing for the first time since they split back in the mid-90s, and performing shoegaze tracks (a term that seemed to be the beginning of the end for several bands of that era) that their old record label, Creation Records, and management Alan McGee would approve of. An adrenalin-fuelled show, the relief from the omnipresent Halstead and company dripped onto our shoulders en route to checking The War on Drugs, who were disappointingly lacking verve.
Refreshingly catching another band yet to hit my radar, Astro, from Chile, I soon overcame the inability to be grabbed by The National despite their collaboration on stage with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. Astro, a band very much on the festival scene, with a much-loved LP, they certainly gather a nicely tuned crowd to turn onto fun tunes such as Maestro Diversion and Panda.
My ears were craving synthetic beats, pows and percussion, which prepared one nicely for one of the most talked about bands playing at Primavera, Nicolas Jaar’s two man band with Dave Harrington, which has caused much premature orgasmic hype. Darkside’s performance at Primavera, fuelled by muchos cortados, immensely lived up to all expectation. Once the volume had all but gone, a punter piped up, “could anyone else go for round two?” We wanted more, and for that we will have to wait, but the tastebuds were pleasantly tickled.
Ready for home; I mean, I dread for anyone that has the task of following a performance from the gifted Jaar, so there was nought for it but a boogie and tongue-in-cheek gig ; !!! (Chk Chk Chk) ripped that stage when Nic was able to stay on it long enough. His audience were digging his punkish defiance, jumping into them, parading his dance in a pair of fine shorts.
Jagwar Ma, timed badly, clashing with DFA’s Factory Floor, was next on the agenda, blowing all and sundry away; befitting for a mid-festival Friday night, providing us with a visually stunning seismic lightshow backdrop, electronically scored by the likes of Come Save Me and The Throw. I encountered no-one that was not taken by this performance, perfectly timed to elevate a Primavera-goer’s night further, build after build after build.
Optimistically I urged swiftly over to the Pitchfork Stage to catch the last live act of the morning, Wolf Eyes. The epitome of rock and roll, adorning shades and leather at 3am, an act that demanded a dancer, the cold harsh raw bite of reality was hitting and it was time to hit the hay before the final day.
Photos from top to bottom: Slowdive by Eric Pamies, !!! (Chk Chk Chk) by Eric Pamies and Jagwar Ma by Dani Canto
