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“Hey, let’s go to that stage it really sounds like Animal Collective”, said electronic music. “You’re nuts, can’t you see it’s Beach House?”, said dream pop. ”You have no idea, it must be Slowdive” thundered Shoegaze. Agost heard them from the stage and smiled, because this Barcelona trio are the only ones who know that the all three of them were right. They sound like all of them because they have layers of sound to give and take from their debut EPs and, above all, from the album they have just released on Hidden Track Records. They have presented it with "Heh", christened like the Egyptian god of infinite space, and this alone is the definition that settles the argument about what their music is like: infinite, expansive and divine.
Eat more fruit. Answer that message from the boy from the other night; honestly it might be worth it. Call your mum more often. And listen to The Beths. This is what the future “you” would say to today's “you”, or at least to the next May’s “you” when you get to the Parc del Fòrum. The Beths are a band with a jazz formation who don’t mind getting dirty to make pop-punk with glow-worms. Because they are from New Zealand and although that seems far from everywhere, you will see how close it feels. And because that day in the future will come, when you realise that you wasted too much time not being happy because you didn’t listen to the right music. Believe us, you will thank yourself for having let the contagious light and vibe of The Beths into your life… and call your mum, for god’s sake.
Where were you in 1977, Amy Taylor? The foul-mouthed singer of Amyl & The Sniffers wasn’t even born! As a matter of fact she was still a long way off (her birth certificate says...1996). Thinking about it, at that time her parents were kids who didn’t even listen to punk rock, they listened to AC/DC and Fleetwood Mac. Even so, when you’re hit with the ten angry eruptions of "Big Attraction & Giddy Up" you could imagine that Amy has shared rehearsal rooms, stages and pyjama parties with Poly Styrene, Ari Up and Ana da Silva. That’s how pure her Brit-punk repertoire sounds. Or better said, Aussie-punk, as they’re from Australia and pray to The Saints, The New Christs and The Birthday Party.
She says everything that comes from her “fat cat”. And she says it clearly, rejecting euphemisms and defying social conventions, no mincing of words as she amazes, shocks and makes the fainthearted blush. Even the most cocky and vulgar macho rapper is thrown by her. When cupcakKe unleashes her tongue, run for cover. She is brutal; she is raunchy and incorrect to the point of embarrassment. She is also quick, sharp and witty, because what Elizabeth Harris (real name of this Chicago rapper) does, does not only have value because she can find a thousand and one synonyms for her genitals (the most recurring and hilarious one is Garfield). cupcakKe is one of the best things that has happened to contemporary hip-hop, in her hyperactive craziness she released two stunning albums in 2018: "Ephorize" and "Eden". They are as funny, as convincing and as full of ideas as Miss Elliot’s hey day albums. Although compared to her, Missy was a goody two shoes. And Lil’ Kim was a nun. And no, we are not exaggerating because… there’s no need: cupcakKe is an exaggeration herself.
At Primavera Sound there is only one constant: change. And that is why, not even things as important as the traditional closing of the festival, celebrating life with DJ Coco, are sacrosanct. But in fact doesn’t the festival end on Sunday in the Apolo with the last ones standing, and not at the Fòrum? Well, sure enough, the most agile wrists behind the decks of national indie will celebrate the rite of passage with an added twist: the last will be the first, but for the first time ever the last will really be the last. Do you get it? We hope so, even if it’s not necessary: there are moments in which you don’t need to explain things for them to be understood. You only need to be there. You know exactly what I mean.
23:30 The Beths
00:45 Amyl & The Sniffers
03:00 Dj Coco