Closing day of the first weekend of a Primavera Sound that will never be enjoyed again in these latitudes in this format (although you never know). Perhaps to live up to this exceptionality, the fans attended even more massively than the previous days (on Thursday, 66,000; on Friday, 74,000) and it was expected that it would be around the full capacity (80,000 attendees). The poster with names of extraordinary pull – Gorillaz, Tyler, the Creator, Idles, Nick Cave...– logically helped this.
Precisely the presence of Nick Cave accompanied by his indestructible Bad Seeds had a superlative appeal. The artistic dimension of the Australian creator, his extra-musical projection –with sad events such as the death of two of his children in dramatic conditions– or his connection with the festival made him a priori essential. And in practice, expectations were confirmed to the nth degree. Yesterday he offered an intense tour of part of his repertoire at 10 pm on one of the two main stages, which, as is known, is anything but predictable.
He hadn't toured with the Bad Seeds since 2018 –they stopped at the Primavera–, and last night he could be seen again with Warren Ellis, Jim Sclavunos and company, in addition to a trio of voices of color who very accurately dimensioned some songs. Dressed in a suit, vest and white shirt, he gave himself to his soul, often at the level of the public, on his knees on stage, as if that were his life. His performance, with his bland Bad Seeds, of From her to eternity was an unforgettable example. They opened with Get ready for love and it was planned that they would do so, after a score of pearls, with Ghosteen speaks. In short, a songbook (Waiting for you, Jubilee Street, Carnage, Red right hand, and in the encores the planned Into my arms or the unreleased live Vortex), which once again dazzled the populous parish.
He must also have done his what to Blixa Bargeld, unclassifiable musician and vocalist, who was one more Bad Seed between 1984 and 2003. And who is the soul and reason for being of the legendary German band Einstürzende Neubauten, which at the beginning of the eighties stirred conventions and conventions, starting from industrial rock, with unsuspected sounds and with his unmistakable voice, usually in German.
There were in yesterday's offer two women of abrasive art, with charm and quality in abundance: cantaora María José Llergo and superstar Jorja Smith. The Cordoban, musically trained in Barcelona, returned to the Primavera, but converted into one of the most innovative voices on the flamenco scene: a voice of wide flexibility, interpretive blood and a concept that brims with art. In addition, with a stage presence –yesterday with a spectacular red dress– that dazzled the respectable crowd.
Smith, meanwhile, showed that today, is in the big leagues. Power, contagious rhythm and outstanding voice characterize his journey through r'n'b and black-tinged pop, and dabbles in rock. The British has a forceful band, with a diaphanous sound and a careful groove. He opened the first of his four nights this Spring with Teenage fantasy and held the bar until the very end.
Closer was Ferran Palau, who made an appearance on one of the large stages and at the inclement and sunny six in the afternoon. For some, the undisputed father of metaphysical pop (another of the progenitors is Joan Pons, factotum of El Petit de Cal Eril and who plays the drums for him in his live shows) began with his referential Kevin and offered his dreamy combination of pop and r'n 'b to a not very wide public.
