The sun shone through the Forum in the middle of the afternoon on Friday's Primavera Sound day, darkening the day waiting for Depeche Mode, the stars of the day. Previously there was space for all sounds, from the hardcore of Balas and Bad Religion to the rap of Baby Keen and Kendrick Lamar, not forgetting the flamenco of Israel Fernández and Diego de Morao or the very personal folk of the English Beth Orton.
After nine at night it was time for Depeche Mode, who became a duo after the death of Andy Fletcher in 2022. After his death they published Memento mori, the last work of the band illustrated by a couple of angelic wings, some for Martin Gore and others for Dave Gahan, who jumped onto the Santander stage surrounded by the sepulchral atmosphere of My cosmos is mine, a practically recited theme that silenced the thousands of people attracted by Gahan's baritone voice.
"Everything seems empty when you see another angel die", they sing in Wagging tongue, the second track of the night and of the new album, an extension of the veil of darkness with which Dave Gahan surrounds himself, who maintains in his sixties the ways of the star of rock, strutting around the stage in a shiny vest and pocketing the audience with the help of a spectacular visual artifact that brought out the maximum performance of the screens, including a centerpiece dominated by a huge M Next to him, more discreetly, Martin Gore clings to the guitar as Walking in my shoes resonates to give way to one of the first hits of the night, the passionate It's no good, from 1997's Ultra. And passion too follows In your, which multiplies the darkness of the night before the technopop of Everything counts, received with joy by an audience eager to celebrate any theme, as they did with the syncopation of Precious and especially in Home, performed by Martin Gore.
Life seems to re-emerge with the ballad Home which was followed by Ghosts again, Memento mori's most recognizable track and perhaps its most upbeat, which lifted the spirits of a crowd that was excited by the playful guitar playing of I feel you that launches the concert to another level, sustained by the aggressive siren of A pain that I'm used to.
Word in my eyes rang out with a special dedication to Andrew Fletcher, the man who seemed not to be there while preserving the heart of the band in the worst moments, when Gahan lost himself to heroin while Gore succumbed to the alcohol, which in turn led to the departure of keyboardist Alan Wilder. He was followed by Stripped eminently from the eighties with marked percussion, a rhythm that accelerated with John the Revelator before saying goodbye to the audience with Enjoy the silence, enthusiastically chanted by an energetic audience.
The encores came in to kill, invincible with Just can't get enough and Never let me down again, very appropriate for a festival night, while easily becoming a memorial to the dead Andy Fletcher (" I'm taking a ride with my best friend, I hope he never lets me down again"). A final farewell before the legendary, addictive and obligatory Personal Jesus, which closed the concert to acclaim, but not the night, darker and happier after the passing of Depeche Mode, but still long.
Many hours earlier, at six in the afternoon, while Japanese Breakfast was playing on the Santander stage, a few hundred people had gathered with the sea in the small Aperol rostrum to listen to Maddy Maia and Tottie, b2b. A few more gathered at the Cupra attending The Delgados, a Scottish formation captained by Emma Pollock who took their name from Segovia's cyclist inclination, and who unleashed their elegant indie accompanied by a string trio and flute.
A very different sound could be heard on the Dice stage, which was packed to hear the "math rock" of Shellac, a power trio from the United States with a lot of distortion and little rush. "Anyone from Chicago?", asks the singer, and four or five hands from the audience go up to report that the entire world is literally coming together at Primavera.
Soon after it was the turn of the Sparks, brothers Ron and Russell Mael, accompanied by a band of two guitars, bass and drums. At the ripe old age of 74, Russell was no slouch jumping on stage as he kicked off with So in a concert featuring songs from his new album, such as the title track, The girl is crying in the latte, performed with a powerful drum that served as a base for the colorful keyboard of a hieratic Ron Mael, sharpened mustache and gaze into infinity. The Californian duo did not forget to perform classics such as We go dancing, Number one song in heaven and This town, to the joy of an audience that had a lot of fun with the concert.
Last night, Kendrick Lamar took over from Depeche Mode on the Estrella Damm stage, with his message-laden rap that has made him the king of the genre, a throne aspired to by his cousin Baby Keem, who perform at 8 p.m. in the same space. And at the same time, at the Cupra, another band pregnant with intentions (good or bad, depending on how you look at it) like Bad Religion unloaded their hardcore, with a Greg Graffin who at the age of 58 remains in top form, like the audience that at that time the Parc del Fòrum was full, those who were still waiting for Christine's performances
