Monday, 28 July 2008

primavera festival, barcelona // day 2


I woke up slumped against a wall or some kind of barrier. I had absolutely no idea where I was. You know when you just wake up and there is a short hazy pause, whilst your brain figures out where the fuck you are. Usually, it's your own bedroom and that's not so bad, the pause is pretty short. Sometimes you wake up on sofas or floors or in other people's beds, sometimes you're happy to be there, sometimes you aren't and you just wanna get out fast.

Like I said before, I woke up against some kind of wall or crowd barrier. I was surrounded by people, none of whom I knew, and I had that tired feeling in my face, probably brought on by alcohol. It was near the sea, and it felt like some kind of epic car park with a hundred steps going up to somewhere else.

After a minute or two, I got up and stumbled / wandered into the centre of the crowd and then I heard this song and then it hit me. Barcelona. Primavera. Vice Stage. Set against the backdrop of a giant solar panel (see above.) El Guincho was playing. It was an incredibly happy and euphoric moment. And then I found my friends.

El Guincho - Palmitos Park
El Guincho - Antillas
visit his myspace///buy Alegranza

Live, El Guincho reproduces his summery sample based pop mastery with a laptop and a drum that he bashes whilst grinning like a madman. Once he has more material and notoriety, this could be a serious live show to savour. Admittedly, you have to factor in the home-turf effect, it went down a treat in Barcelona as one would expect, but with vibes this happy, wider success can't be too far away.

Again, drinks offers had proved to be my nemesis. The 1€ Jagermeisters this time round had waylaid myself and my group.

Earlier in the evening, I had a conversation with my friend Sam, who kinda writes this blog and also contributes to The Guardian on a regular basis. He was really drunk, it was really terrible.



Here's one of his tips.
No Age - Eraser

The only other thing that stood out on Friday sadly, let's be honest, was Holy Fuck (Interestingly, both on Young Turks). The Sonics were fun, don't get me wrong. Cat Power was distinctly overwhelming. Holy Fuck assault you with relentlessly schizophrenic rhythms that exist solely to pound you into submission with the help of warm, monotonous synth lines and juddering guitars. Best thing to come out of Canada for a while.

Out of this happy malaise then comes Lovely Allen. It jitters into life slowly, before revealing its trump card, a melody that could frame a million phone adverts and probably soundtrack a day when you win the lottery. Layers of noise get added to the mix, at Primavera it incited a massive stage invasion and just made everybody want to dance joyously like the Doc at the end of Back to the Future after he's just sent Marty back to 1985. Except without the flaming tyre tracks.

Holy Fuck - Lovely Allen
Holy Fuck - Super Inuit
buy their stuff///visit myspace

I need to see them live again. Just for them.

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