Primavera Sound 2025

Before the brat-induced mayhem kicked in, we eased into things with the melancholic, brooding post-punk of Ultralágrima, premiering their new EP under sunlight far too cheery for their sound. From there, Yawners took the reins with a calmer, hazier brand of rock, a natural continuation for a golden hour set. Things took a playful turn with Ciutat, chatting in Catalan and winning over the modest local crowd. They even brought out Teo Lucadamo for a surprise appearance that lifted the energy right when we needed it.

The bigger names started rolling in with Beabadoobee, who claimed the Estrella Damm stage with a pink guitar and total confidence. She had the crowd swooning with tracks from This Is How Tomorrow Moves, last year’s album that still has legs, especially live renditions of Beaches and Real Man. As the sky faded into dreamy shades of orange and red, Idles took over the neighbouring stage with their signature bombast: thunderous guitar riffs and Joe Talbot’s guttural vocals shaking the very ground.

As the indie-rock segment — the genre bedrock of Primavera’s early days — wrapped up, it was time for the queen of alt-pop herself: FKA Twigs. Her performance, part club ritual, part emotional exorcism, was the highlight of the night. With Eusexua, her new album, Twigs reminded us she plays by no one’s rules: her music is made to be danced to, cried over, and dreamt about. Protest, humour, sensuality, and vocal precision — it was all there. And the show? Pole dancing, martial arts, wigs, costume changes, choreography… Unreal.

Jamie xx proved divisive: for some, the ideal warm-up to the brat-bomb to come, for others, a slight mood-killer. Either way, the revered producer finally brought In Waves to the stage, pairing the dreamy electronica with mesmerising, kaleidoscopic visuals. Kelly Lee Owens, on the other hand, brought full emotional and sonic clarity with her celestial-yet-danceable album Dreamstate. Singing live with near-spiritual energy, she delivered one of the most exquisite sets of the weekend.

And then it hit: The Sweat Tour, the joint venture of besties Charli xcx and Troye Sivan. They’d each played Primavera solo last year; this time, they returned — together, but not quite united. Taking turns on stage, the dynamic felt… lopsided. Don’t get us wrong: the show slapped overall. But the tonal shift was jarring. Charli went full chaos mode — crawling across the stage, dripping in autotune, firing off banger after banger. Then Troye would float in with soft, delicate pop, instantly bringing the mood way down.

The energy spike returned hard with Brutalismus 3000, the Berlin-based techno duo of the moment. Screams, smoke, merciless beats, and a feral remix of Benny Benassi’s Satisfaction; they understood the assignment — and absolutely smashed it. The Dare kept the energy pulsing, though perhaps not the most epic choice to close Thursday. Still, we adore him, so no complaints.

Friday kicked off strong with Wolf Alice, whose magnetic stage presence crowned her as one of the weekend’s standout voices. There’s something about her that draws you in besides her music. Next came Haim, the sister trio who own every stage they step on. Flawless vocals, endless charisma, full crowd interaction — indie was thriving that afternoon.

On a different note, Chanel Beads reminded us Primavera is just as much about discovery as it is about headline sets. Their art-pop cocktail of electronics, strings, vocals, and unpredictable instrumentation was otherworldly and defiantly unclassifiable. Dreamy but accessible, Beach House followed with a floating, cinematic set — a moment of calm before the chaos. Then came Fcukers, ripping through the calm with riotous energy, rebellion, and raw punk joy. That one goes down in the books.

Global pop star number two, Sabrina Carpenter, made her long-awaited Spanish debut with a highly choreographed, visually rich spectacle. Recreating a movie-bedroom set, she oozed charm, pitch-perfect vocals, and star quality. The infamous ‘Juno pose’? Not a pose at all — she launched t-shirts out of cannons strapped to her arms. Power move.

Meanwhile, Carolina Durante brought the local punk crowd together in true chaos mode — even with their frontman on crutches. It was all heart: crowds screaming every lyric, mosh pits forming at every turn, and a rare moment of community in a crowd that, this year, was heavily international.

Then came Salem, in one of the most hauntingly beautiful closers of the festival. The elusive band behind 2010’s cult classic King Night emerged from the shadows to perform old and new witch house gems beneath a glowing Virgin Mary statue. Genre-bending doesn’t even begin to cover it: a collision of hip hop, noise, electronic melancholy, and unshakable mystique. It left the audience spellbound.

By Saturday, our legs were done for but the vibe was still strong. Dehd opened the day: perfect energy, great songs, and a strong stage presence make the band a standout promise. Then came alt-rock royalty Kim Deal, ex-member of cult bands Pixies and The Breeders, backed by a tight band and decades of scene-defining swagger. Over at the Plenitude by Nitsa stage, Isabella Lovestory got downright raunchy in the best way. The crowd came to party, and she delivered, with reggaetón-laced hits like Golosa and Kitten Heel lighting up the audience.

Amaia was in a league of her own. She played the piano, the harp, did some flamenco tapping, danced, sang, and had a laugh with the crowd — at first blaming her nerves for performing on such a massive stage, and later showing herself genuinely grateful and moved by the unconditional support from her fans. She’s one of the most well-rounded and brilliant artists on the current Spanish scene, and she truly deserves to get her flowers on a global music stage as big as Primavera Sound. Fontaines D.C., ever-political and soul-rattling, brought a fierce performance — complete with huge Free Palestine visuals — proving that rock can still shout truth to power.

The final pop star of the festival, Chappell Roan, followed. The rise to global fame of the Midwestern Princess has been meteoric, almost unbelievable. But seeing her live, it all makes sense: she’s got a powerful voice, a natural presence and charisma, and a setlist that’s effortlessly catchy and easy to sing along to. We’d already seen her having the time of her life doing Charli’s Apple dance on Thursday, but now it was her time to shine. On a spectacularly dreamy stage (a Gothic castle), the American singer had us dancing to Hot to Go!, belting out Good Luck, Babe!, and nearly crying to her more melodic tracks. If she keeps this up, there’s no doubt she’ll hold her place as a global pop star for many, many years to come.

Central Cee followed with his rapid-fire flow and new material touching on fame, identity, and inner conflict. But nothing prepared us for the emotional gut-punch of Anohni. Running late, sure — but her voice cracked the sky, a transcendent moment after the chaos that came before.

Machine Girl yanked us back into a screeching, cathartic wall of noise, while Aminé brought bounce, joy, and spitfire bars (even if he showed up late). But Confidence Man might’ve stolen the whole damn day: all dance, just pure, unfiltered joy. Absurd in the best way. Beautiful chaos.

And still, one last chapter: Yung Beef. Spain’s trap messiah, taking us straight to hell and back with a volcanic set of drill, reggaetón, and nihilistic swagger. He closed the weekend on a blazing note — exactly as Primavera should end: sweaty, delirious, unforgettable.