I begin the first spring day on one of the small stages, the Schwarzkopf, with Open fronta combo of Andalusian musicians that mix flamenco, jazz, post-rock and hard sounds. On this occasion the singers Israel Fernández and Lelo Soto are accompanied. And it is a shame to see them outdoors, they were a decent proposal of the auditori. They project images of the dead of the Spanish Civil War, of bombarded remains. Israel appears the first for a piece that cares more about jazz. When music comes out, music becomes much more heavy. There are no longer dead on the screen, only abandoned villages. Open Front are practicing that heavy, until the return of Israel returns them to the bulería, in a moment of intensity that brings them so close to the ‘omega’ of lizard Nick and Morente or the exquirla project, but it flows less natural. It shows that it is still a new project and that you lack filming.
Let’s Juliethe promising Shoegaze Band, with good expectations. But to the solazo of the trainline stage that is quite fiasco. They are a bit of the molest things of the 90s: hardcore, punkpop, shoegaze, grunge … a little lush, a little Sonic Youth. But instead of having something similar to a repertoire, they are dedicated to playing fragments of songs. As if they were putting effects and things that are cool but without specifying anything.
That this spring Sound is going to be that of women is not just merit of the “supernens” Charli XCX, Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan (I do not say it: at the entrance of the Fòrum it looks a statue of the mythical characters representing the three heroines of pop). The second line is a waste of female talent. Thus, on the Amazon stage, Cassandra Jenkinsvery elegant, protagonist the first great concert of the day. The air is fresh, Cassandra wears a magnificent band, crowned by a saxophone. His voice is somewhat more anian than on disk, he also dedicates himself more to his role as a American singer -songwriter. And how beautiful sings! In ‘Omakase’, it offers a version as collected as elegant. How beautiful it sounds, as the verses “Oh My Lover, My Light, My Destroyer …” flow. Someone shouts “I love you!” Casandra recovers the synthetic record in ‘Delphinum Blue’, the micro in ‘Petco’ is leaving … It is a delight to see how his voice slides between the instruments, especially the sax. The texture they give to the songs is tremendous. The last theme is ‘New Bikini’: “It is a pleasure to be next to the ocean, so an ancient song that speaks of the ocean,” explains Cassandra. And they raise the intensity of their blue eyed soul and liquidate any languor conato. Afternoon magic.
The comfort with which I have seen Cassandra Jenkins does not make me suspect the one that comes to me. Innocently I go to the Cupra stage to see the Irish sensation CMAT And I’m almost hit by a flock of Brat green t -shirts. There is the cupra to the flag, it is demential. I am lucky to locate a hole in the amphitheater seats and there I planted. In Platea there is no more people and many are standing on the stairs, which stop exercising their place of passage.
Everything is a tidal of green and foreigners girls. From afar, it seems that the boys of the CMAT band go cheerleaders. The girls not. That it will be a shameless and fun concert, it looks to the league, and CMAT certifies it by showing our ass and throwing the first change on the ground. He goes out for all with his “Euro -Bentry” donkey and hilarious. It is paid, does the monkey … “Do you like the country?”, Asks us before starting to sing ‘I Don’s Really Care for You’, that it sings so snapped that it almost looks like a joke, they start to make line dancing … CMAT asks for the Irish who are seeing it and I swear that they raise their hand ¾ of the audience.
The show is a row of shameless attitudes, with the good of queer: boys mourning and putting hand, patted with asses, CMAT acting a bit of magazine vedette … but all this desire clown does not distract the important thing, which are their songs. And many are melancholic, sad. A struggle with humor and a certain bitterness against the viles of life. The interpretation of ‘What’s inconvenient’ certifies it. CMAT knows it and sing in a felt way, with its versatile and powerful voice. Too bad stops that lower the cyclonic rhythm of their performance.
CMAT recovers the claiming humor when he explains that “I forgot my fasteners.” And water is thrown on top, to become “wet t -shirt”, while talking about “body positivity”: on his previous tour they made horrible comments about his physique. “What is strange, because I am very sexy.” And, of course, the great – and viral in Tiktok – ‘take sexy picture of me’. And it is difficult to describe the devotion, clamor and heat that awakens between its audience. ‘Running/Planning’ is one of those sad songs in which the voice is left, among shouts of the public: “CMAT! CMAT!” But he gets fool again with another line dancing at ‘I Wanna Be a Cowboy, Baby’. And the cupra is an ocean with arms moving like a wave.
I get out of the cupra before the last song of CMAT ends because all those people are down and I do not want to be hit by the green tide. The bathrooms are impossible for the number of people there are and I miss a part of Magdalena Bay In the Amazon. They are touching the ‘imaginal disk’ album in order. Mica Tenenbaum is unleashed, as possessed by Kate Bush, alternating masks and costumes. The battery is a crack. They set up a great Synth-Pop sophisticated and eighties party, but I confess that after the emotional deployment of Cassandra and CMAT they fall a bit short, despite all their paraphernalia.
For emotional deployments, Jason Pierce. Spiritized They come to play ‘Pure Phase’ (1995), their second album. It is the only non -poster head that has a slot of 90 minutes. It has no screens. Only lights that paradoxically leave him and his august band in Penumbra. I distinguish choristers, metal section, keyboards, a violin … Jason, on a standing side, starts its hurtful volume liturgy with ‘medication’. The sonic barrage is tremendous, hypnotic. The serious ones hit so hard that I must make sure I have put the plugs. I have moments that lights and music seem to absorb me. Pierce’s voice, nasal, who seems to break guides us. It takes us from the white noise gospel. And I take off my plugs. If I have to be deaf, that is for San Jason Pierce.
There is a small valley in which music is something derivative, less exciting. But Jason wakes us with the ‘Lay Back in the Sun’ fanfare, which leads us to glory between Redobles and Gospel. “Take Me Somowhere,” Jason sings, and then attack with Gospel-Billy Rechulón in ‘Good Times’. The paste is that there is tremendous cotorrerío in the stands that annoy the most calm parts, so we put ourselves on the track, to flood ourselves at all of light. And Jason closes with ‘Feel Like Goin’ Home ‘. And I am levitating at the rhythm of waltz.
The Brat effect is noticed throughout the “region.” The Schwarzkopf scenario has a very loose look for Kelly Lee Owens. Even so, I distinguish charli fans that should already be in Mordor. Kelly alone, to two keyboards and a few projections fills the entire stage. His performance revolves on his album ‘Dreamstate’, is a trance with a sneaker. She lives it a lot, she enjoys it, she is stirred: she would be on the track dancing her own concert if she could. It is installed in a perpetual climb, we simply enjoy enjoying it so much. There is also some short and spiritual moment, such as ‘on’, a play of ‘Inner Song’. But the calm lasts. He leaves behind the keyboards to act as a priestess of the trance. In ‘Night’, another great recovery of ‘Inner Song’, is almost transmuted into Björk. Kelly hardens, is self -absorbed and drags us to his celebration. Vigorizing spell.
