primavera sound 2015
Andrew Morris
Having paid a brief visit to Barcelona last year, I cannot say it was a place full of cherished memories. Leaving the city devoid of a pickpocketed iPhone and with a terrible hangover, I would not have thought to be paying another visit for, preferably, a very long while. So imagine my considerable surprise when I found myself in the very same city almost exactly a year later, watching the sun rise over the Mediterranean while New York house music played from a stage next to me. What was it that brought me back to a city I had such sour memories of? It was, of course, the 2015 Primavera Sound festival.
Located in the Parc del Forum, next to a harbour north of Barcelona's beaches, Primavera Sound has played host to acts varying from Franz Ferdinand, Nine Inch Nails and Jamie xx for fifteen years. In terms of such variety, this year was of no exception, The Strokes being amongst a list of headliners that also included The Black Keys and alt-J. The location of the festival, though deceptively distant from the city centre, was nonetheless easy to reach, situated a stone's throw away from a tram stop and a short taxi ride from our rented apartment at the Sagrada Familia. Security was of nowhere near the strictness of festivals in the UK; although bouncers would go through the routine of searching the odd bag or so, sniffer dogs were out of the equation, and police were an equally rare sight. This corresponded to a generally very relaxed festival atmosphere, perhaps aided by the sight of small, suspicious-looking bags changing hands and the presence of certain herbal smells in the air.
The “Full Festival” ticket price was more than reasonable, mine being bought in February for €180 and early-bird options available at even cheaper costs. Food and drinks were, by festival standards, by no means extortionate and generally affordable. Bathroom queues were a stress-free experience. All that we are yet to cover is the music itself.
The Thursday night was the opening night of the festival proper, although it should be noted the Wednesday night had played host to Albert Hammond Jr. as he sampled his new album, Momentary Masters – as well as playing St Justice and Back to the 101 from his previous two. An easy-listening and pleasant set, it was something quite unlike the heavier tunes of The Strokes to come.
The first dilemma of who to watch came in the form of the stereotypical hipster beard-look, Chet Faker at the Ray-Ban stage; headliners The Black Keys at the Primavera stage; or the outspoken Tyler, the Creator at the Pitchfork stage. By consensus, my acquaintances and I opted for Chet – and Chet did not disappoint. A technically-brilliant performance included the inevitable crowd-pleasers of Gold and Talk is Cheap, so much so that it was worth missing the start of the next act we were supposed to see: house DJ Maceo Plex at the Bowers and Wilkins stage.
A note on said stage: as the name would suggest, Bowers and Wilkins were the providers of the sound system. This, coupled with a tent that contributed an enclosed and intense atmosphere, made for a perfect venue for electronica. Maceo Plex, followed by Tale of Us, exploited this to the full, their respective performances making for nearly three hours of blistering techno and progressive house. The tent, although sizeable, was filled to the brim, creating a feeling that went amiss in the open-air spaces of other stages and replicating an experience closer to what one might find in a club. All of this proved to be an excellent warm-up to the final act of the night – Richie Hawtin on the ATP stage, who demonstrated exactly why he has been such a dominant figure on the techno scene for the past 20 or so years with a set that started after 4am and continued until sunrise.
Day two brought a fairly uninspiring performance from Julian Casablancas and the Voidz on the Primavera stage. This, however, was followed on the ATP by Glasgow-natives and indie veterans Belle and Sebastian, who entertained far-stretching crowds with a mixture of old and new tracks. Although performed with the enthusiasm, professionalism and the unique baroque-indie style that could have been expected of them, it was not a performance to truly get the blood flowing. No, that accolade is one that belongs to their successors on the ATP stage, New York hip hop duo Run the Jewels. Formed by El-P and the larger-than-life Killer Mike, RTJ have gained a cult following in the 2 years since their inception, and the mosh pits that gathered as soon as they started their signature self-titled track was indicative of this. Easily one of the highlights of the festival, it was an electrifying set charged with passion and energy, personified by Killer Mike – who at one point brought his wife on stage in order so that the crowd could wish her a happiest of birthdays – and emanated in tracks such as Lie, Cheat, Steal and A Christmas F*cking Miracle.
A break followed before the 2am performance of electronica artist Jon Hopkins, characterised by flashing lights and dancers to complement an eclectic variety of genres and instruments. Then at 4am on Ray-Ban came Innervisions label co-founder Dixon to play a solid 2 hours' worth of snarey, soulful deep house to welcome another sunrise over the Catalan coast. Not one pupil went undilated in the hardy crowd who stayed for the duration to witness a true masterclass at work.
And so came the third and final day, and with that the show of flagship act The Strokes on the Primavera stage. Taking to the stage a good 20 minutes or so after their scheduled time, the wait for Julian Casablancas' dulcet, distorted vocals was one that amassed possibly the biggest crowd I had seen at the festival thus far. Sentimentally, it cannot be denied that listening to timeless classics such as Reptilia and Last Nite, and closing on New York City Cops was an experience to remember. Rumours currently abound that The Strokes' days are numbered, with their current tour set to be their last; if their visible enthusiasm at playing together at Primavera – or rather, total lack thereof – is anything to go by, anyone witness to this may well have been seeing one of the last Strokes' live performances. In that sense only was it worth the wait.
The last act we had pencilled in was Caribou at 3am on Ray-Ban. Having missed Daphni, we were determined not to miss Dan Snaith's alter ego and, as expected, this was proved unmissable. Caribou, complete with keyboard, guitars and drums, put in a performance that can only be described as epic: epic in terms of the stage lighting; epic in terms of the music; epic in terms of the crowd. Can't Do Without You (in its recorded form a song that is more appropriate for the hangover/comedown/whatever implications there are to be had from the night before) was transformed into a continuous crescendo of sound on stage.
Yet this was not yet the end. Just after 4am we stumbled upon Mike Simonetti at Pitchfork. Not having enough energy to join the crowd, for the most part we sat at the side and watched as Simonetti's discoey New York house brought in another Barcelona sunrise, and an end to Primavera Sound 2015.
Of course, this goes nowhere near to showcasing the full range of music on offer, and admittedly this will make Primavera seem DJ-oriented. But it is not – acts such as Mac DeMarco, Foxygen, Interpol and OMD, amongst others, have not been given justice here, and for that I apologise. And maybe that is one final, minor note to make on Primavera – that there can be so much on offer that you are bound to miss out on something you want to see. The flipside, though, is that there is something for everyone. So no matter how much of a musical expert or philistine you may be, I cannot recommend Primavera highly enough. And if for nothing else, go at least to see the sunrises.