Live Review

Primavera Festival – Barcelona, Spain

• 6th Jun 2011

Tales from the city.

Another year, another Catalan protest and another chance for arguably Spain’s most spoilt for choice indie festival to show the rest how its done, and in terms of the music royalty, lay down another red carpet for some of the most revered artists to ever take part in this stinking business.

On line-up face of it, the laid-back care-free-twee-darlings of Belle and Sebastian, Best Coast and Flaming Lips may have well looked best suited to thrive in the sunshine soaked Spanish settings; However it was the older, industrious and darker material to be found scattered elsewhere throughout the festival which provided to be of particular perverse interest.

Hate him, slightly dislike him or just plain loathe him, John Lydon’s PiL were first to make writers like myself reach out for their much loved ‘post-punk’ reference points, appearing as they did on the festivals ‘main’ opening Thursday night. Toe-curling memories of butter adverts almost forgotten, Lydon and his ensemble snarled and swaggered their way through a set which gave us all a chance to see what the former Mr Rotten has been doing with himself of late, besides showing up in simulated celeb-infested jungles.

Over on the Pitchfork stage The Walkmen were busy gearing up for another show which would no doubt have many-an audience member keeping their fingers secretly crossed for one certain song: I hear ‘The Rat’ went down a storm. Meanwhile time was drawing closer for another one of Primavera’s main crowd pullers. Nick Cave’s (hobby/ alter ego/ all of the above?) Grinderman got ready to tear up the concrete solar panel surroundings and once onstage, paraded themselves as yet another side to the industrious Aussie – a side which is much more Birthday Party than Bad Seeds. Showing up armed with themes throughout their brilliant two records, Grinderman launched a blistering, at times comic and always ear bending assault on all those who looked on – both musically and lyrically (“My baby calls me the Loch Ness Monster/ two humps and I’m gone”).

Soon again it was the turn of the Llevante stage to beckon and with breath caught, shirt and tie straightened, it was time for Interpol disciples like myself to keep composed and march on for more 80s influenced post-punk. What Interpol lacked (come back Carlos), they more than made up for in energy and spunk as they drew heavily from their first 2 albums; and in doing so, induced some patience from those of us who remain unconvinced by their eponymous last.

Friday

With the prospect of more 80s hipster fare in the form of The Monochrome Set and the small matter of a Pulp reunion, Primavera’s penultimate second day was the one which would draw the biggest crowds.

The National were the first to really command the kind of crowd which many anticipated. Donned in his black jeans/ shirt/ jacket combo, lead singer Matt Beringer came on raising a large glass of something red before downing and settling down to his spot at centre stage, as usual clutching his mic throughout an rousing and not to sound lame, emotional set. The only box of brilliance which The National didn’t tick was Matt’s decision not to enter the crowd during Mr November. But who can blame him, those of us given half a chance wouldn’t have let him go.

Brief excursions over to Explosions in the Sky and Belle and Sebastian proved worthwhile time-killers whilst waiting for Jarvis Cocker to live up to his initials and provide Pulp’s second coming. When the real J.C came on it was to the expected crowd adulation, with his band then proceeding to belt out classic after classic. ‘Do you Remember the first time?’, ‘Babies’ and then ‘Common People’ all did their job in stirring those of us who were a little sleepy. Jarvis dedicated the latter track to ‘los indignados’ (the defiant ones) after apparent police-protester clashes in the city.

Saturday

The third and final outing to the Gladiator-arena-like settings of Primavera’s Parc Del Forum came with how all of us ‘past it’ over 25-year-olds would have no doubt wished from the start. Twas a lazy, sit down in the sunshine; Fleet Foxes strummed and windswept their way through their San Miguel Stage set – the rest of us left to wistfully enjoy the sun and sounds, reminiscing on what came the days before.

The spanner in the works was to literally come soon after. Wiping away any notion of Primavera pleasantness was the festivals hidden gem, the legendary Einstürzende Neubauten (Collapsing New Buildings). Led by Nick Cave’s one time fellow Bad Seed Blixa Bargeld, Neubauten’s ambient, post-industrial sounds were to stand a mile out, sounding like nothing else on show at the festival. Calm composure by lead singer Bargeld for the opening track ‘The Garden’ would soon rise up into angry, stop-start, verbal attacks whilst the band behind played anything they could get their hands on. These tracks sounded more like acts of despair and subsequent aggression than musical compositions. It was breathtaking.

And finally, finally, came the Queen currently known as PJ Harvey. Dressed all in an all in white dress-cum straightjacket, PJ all at once had the look of an angel/deranged princess as she strummed away almost aimlessly on her autoharp. For those seeking the previous pleasures of a varied Interpol set would have been left disappointed. Perhaps it was down to the vastness of PJ Harvey’s back catalogue that for the most part, she stuck to showcasing tracks from her latest album ‘Let England Shake’. Although judging by the reactions, Spain got in on the act also.