Primavera Sound 2026

Wednesday kicked off with Ouineta, an artist as young as she is talented, who presented her new album alongside some seriously breathtaking choreography. But for many locals, the day’s big draw was Guitarricadelafuente, an artist who has been carving out his own space for years and who finally found the perfect key last year with Spanish Leather, a beautiful album that has taken him around the world and onto platforms such as Tiny Desk. At the Fòrum, he wove songs from that record, including Tramuntana, La puerta del Sol and Babieca!, through earlier material. To close things on a higher note after a set more centred on folk and acoustic textures, Wet Leg took to the stage to make the guitars and drums thunder, lifting everyone’s spirits and leaving us ready to start the following day with renewed force.

On Thursday, both the audience and the festival organisation had been warned: yellow alert for rain, storms forecast. The overcast sky was not lying. Still, no one expected the downpour that would end up robbing us of that day’s headliners, including Massive Attack, Doja Cat and Bad Gyal, among other cancelled shows such as Mac DeMarco and Malibu. And yet the day began in the most perfect way possible, with four wonderful concerts. The first: Cameron Winter.

The anticipation to see Geese’s vocalist at the Auditori was sky-high, and arriving two hours before doors opened you could see it in the enormous queues already forming outside. The Brooklyn native not only delivered — he put on one of the most powerful and astonishing sets in the festival’s history, because this guy is cut from different cloth — the kind legends are made of. Listening to him, you catch flashes of Dylan, of Nick Cave, of Tom Waits. Never mind that this 24-year-old giant is the frontman of the hottest band around right now: his solo record is something else. Love Takes Miles, Cancer of the Skull, $0, Drinking Age or Try as I May are a collection of tracks of uncommon power, and live, with nothing but a grand piano, Cameron gives them an almost ceremonial aura that leaves you breathless and on the verge of tears in equal measure. And as he sings on $0 — God is real, he’s not joking — well, he doesn’t lie. God is real, and Cameron Winter is Him.

He was followed by another artist capable of doing it all: singing, playing several instruments and producing. We are talking about Dev Hynes, aka Blood Orange, whose intimate concert did not get off to the best start (in his stories, he complained that production had fucked up his set). Even so, in front of a loyal, spellbound crowd, whether through Essex Honey hits such as Somewhere in Between, Mind Loaded or Vivid Light, or other songs (his now-famous cover of How Soon Is Now? by The Smiths), he more than came through. The only general complaint was that he sang too little and leaned too heavily on the backing singers accompanying him. But hey, if that is the worst of it, so be it.

We had to run to catch Geese, one of the bands of the moment. We had already seen them up close at Paral·lel 62 on Wednesday, as part of Primavera a la Ciutat, and we already wrote about it here. So the question was whether that club fury would hold up on a bigger stage. The answer came at the Occident, with the full band and the clouds moving into position to accompany what would turn out to be an epic, historic set. And hold up it did. 2122, Bow Down and 100 Horses came out swinging. And Trinidad — well, we’ll come back to Trinidad at the end. I See Myself, Au Pays du Cocaine and Husbands were a joy. Cowboy Nudes proved prophetic, becoming the already-iconic moment that will define this edition of Primavera Sound forever: where the original lyric says “New York city, underwater”, Cameron sang “Barcelona, underwater”, just as the rain started to fall. Not only did everyone watching get soaked — the band ended up drenched too. You could watch the roadies rushing back and forth with towels to protect the gear, Cameron Winter, Emily Green and Max Bassin edging further and further back, while delivering a stunning version of Taxes before closing with the song that ends every show on this tour, Trinidad. I’d wager this is the most Trinidad that Trinidad has ever been, right as the storm broke. Yes, it was shorter than usual, but brutal to witness live — there’s a POV video of part of that performance on their IG that couldn’t be more epic. More than one band would have pulled the plug much earlier, but these guys are rock in every sense of the word, and we love them for it.

Without knowing it at the time, the day’s finale ended up coming from Oklou, whose magical presence seemed to stop the rain almost as soon as her set began, allowing the crowd to take off the raincoats nobody had planned to include in their outfits of the day. The French artist had recently sung at Coachella and toured across Europe, yet even she seemed surprised by the number of people who came to see her at the Cupra stage. “This is the most people I’ve ever played for”, she said, almost in shock. Luckily, nerves didn’t betray her and she delivered an incredible concert: she played a flute made of lights, climbed on and off the swing several times, sent collective euphoria through the roof with Harvest Sky, and managed to make everyone feel a sense of community rarely found at a festival as massive as Primavera Sound. Maybe it was the weather, or the fact that as soon as she finished the rain came down torrentially and every show until almost midnight was cancelled, but it was clearly one of the highlights of the edition.

Call us cowards, but faced with the weather and soaked to the bone, we went home. The festival did continue at half-speed after several artist cancellations, and a few acts took to the stage whom we are still gutted to have missed, including 2hollis, Fcukers, Overmono, VVV [Trippin’you] and Six Sex.

On Friday, recovered from the shock and with a better weather forecast, we started the day at Levi’s Plaza, a small circular stage where several artists invited by the brand played short but intense half-hour concerts. No wonder the queue for Rose Gray was enormous: her album Louder, Please was a hit among pop lovers. With songs such as Angel of Satisfaction and Party People, we gathered energy before heading to something radically different: Ethel Cain. The American artist was as gloomy, intense and beautiful as we expected. Her stage presence is magnetic, drawing you in not like a magnet but like an abyss. She needs no choreography or big tricks; her lyrics are enough. She opened with American Teenager and continued with fan favourites such as Gibson Girl, Nettles and A House in Nebraska.

The one who did arrive with plenty of dancers, outfit changes and a stage built for constant play was Addison Rae. The new pop star born on the internet is a genuine phenomenon, and she came to Primavera Sound to prove why. Clearly, she is not a vocalist, but nobody there was expecting an Adele-level voice; they were expecting a Britney-style spectacle. And that is exactly what she gave us. Addison is likeable, charismatic, dances like few others and gives her all. She speaks to the crowd and even came down to scream with them, because that is how a strong bond between artist and audience is forged. Honestly, singing and dancing along to hits from her album Addison such as Aquamarine (Arca remix included), Fame Is a Gun, High Fashion, Headphones On and Diet Pepsi was incredible. Opinions may still be divided, but the artist proved why she is one of the new stars of global pop.

At the same time, over at Cupra, one of the local talents with the greatest promise was performing: Ralphie Choo. He overflows with talent and creativity. When we think about his music, and the way he performs and moves, we think about freedom; it feels as though saying out loud that good things take time, and that everyone has their own rhythm, has lifted the only weight he was carrying. On stage, we saw him freed from all tension, performing in front of thousands of people as if he were in his room recording the video for Pirri, dancing and making us dance, singing and making us cry. He gels better with his band each time, and the live show has more colours now; everything landed perfectly. There are also a couple of moments we will not forget: Voycontodo with the cap turned backwards, and the arrival of his favourite guest.

Back at the main stages, it was time for one of the heavyweights, the act that gathered, by far, the biggest crowd of the entire festival: The Cure. Stating in 2026 that The Cure are one of the most important bands to have ever existed might seem like stating the obvious, but watching them with fifty years behind them do what they did at the Fòrum is the work of titans, of unrepeatable geniuses. Two and a half long hours, twenty-nine songs, and the constant feeling of witnessing something that doesn’t come around twice. They opened with Alone, from their latest album Songs of a Lost World, and from the very first chord it was clear this wasn’t going to be a greatest hits run on autopilot. Robert Smith’s voice sounded as if time had no hold on him, the band was on point, and the night unfolded as a careful architecture of layers: the dark weight of Fascination Street, the beauty of Pictures of You, Lovesong, and a handful of gems that hadn’t seen the light in years — Mint Car (unplayed since 2016), alt.end (since 2018), 2 Late. For any longtime fan, that kind of detail is gold. Before the encore, Endsong closed the main set like a full stop. Then came the other side — the band that also wrote The Lovecats, Close to Me, Friday I’m in Love and so many other hits that the crowd showed their appreciation, anthem after anthem, all the way to the closing Boys Don’t Cry. Few bands can afford that luxury.

While all this was happening, we also went to see other concerts (you know how festival clashes go). The duo Matmos performed at Levi’s Warehouse, an intimate enclosed space that suited their experimental work perfectly: they explored the sonority of metals (chains, bowls), playing with them while combining those textures with synthesisers. At the Port, outdoors but just as dark in atmosphere, Shlohmo was brilliant and mysterious, like a totemic figure on stage, hidden under the hood of his sweatshirt, as he combined the piercing, gritty quality of electric guitar with the captivating, magical pull of synthesisers. Much more explosive was Amaarae at Cupra, where she crowned herself one of the undisputed queens of the night: an overwhelming force, an unshakeable attitude and a setlist to die for. She was presenting her latest album, Black Star, but with far more electronic versions that sounded spectacular live. Oh, and as a curiosity, actors Paul Mescal and Harris Dickinson were spotted around, proving that Primavera Sound is the place to be every first week of June.

Jade also changed the arrangements for the live show, only hers were not quite as convincing. The former Little Mix member came ready to give everything and present That’s Showbiz Baby!, a very well-rounded pop album with hits such as It Girl and Angel of My Dreams. However, her concert at the Occident, despite her good attitude and voice, left a little to be desired. By contrast, the other British pop diva who came to sweep everything away was PinkPantheress. It was criminal to put her at Cupra, a stage that is always fine but was not just small for her, it was tiny. You could not fit a pin in there, access points were closed, and the sound faltered. But none of that stopped the singer and producer from storming through the tracks from Fancy That, her hugely celebrated album, opening with Stateside and closing with Illegal. Choreography for every song, breaks between tracks that made it feel like being in a club (where Rush by Troye Sivan was played, among others), and a fully committed audience made her performance perfect.

With her, the night’s pop came to an end, making way for denser artists such as Viagra Boys, with their hugely powerful rock; Skrillex, with his explosive electronics; or Cara Delevingne, whose name caught plenty of attention but disappointed because of a weak stage presence. The one who absolutely smashed it was Iglooghost at Levi’s Warehouse. Strobe lights, complex multilayered electronics without becoming overly cerebral, and him at the centre of everything. He is one of the most interesting artists around right now, and his performance more than proved it. Ki/Ki closed the night with a high-voltage set that forced us to summon whatever strength we had left to keep dancing until dawn.

On Saturday, with the sun finally back in the sky, we began with Grace Ives, who was presenting her latest album, Girlfriend, to a timid crowd that took a while to warm up. She, however, was fully committed: first seated at the keyboard and singing, then jumping around the stage. The artist who arrived like a whirlwind was Sudan Archives, the pioneer of Afrofuturism, who took the Occident stage as if it were her own home: no musicians, no dancers, no scenography. She alone was more than enough to turn the stage upside down. Well, I’m lying: she did invite a girl from the audience to dance, and she understood the assignment, shaking that booty and encouraging the audience as if she herself was the headliner. Returning to Sudan Archives, she presented her 2025 album, The BPM, with hits such as Dead, A Bug’s Life and My Type.

At the Schwarzkopf stage, Gelli Haha was also presenting an album, Switcheroo, which slipped into several Best Albums of 2025 lists, including ours. She is strange, camp, funny and a great performer. She proved as much to an audience delighted to watch her perform and embrace her more comic side. Another camp and funny artist was Ashnikko, who, despite coming on stage fifteen minutes late, arrived ready for anything. “I was gluing and sticking all of this stuff, sorry!”, she apologised, laughing, while showing us a look as chaotic as she is — a condom saying I <3 BCN included. She danced, sang, gave us madness, gave us humour; exactly what she’s known for.

Among so many smaller concerts, it was time to head to one of the main stages for one of the day’s biggest draws. Little Simz finally had the main stage she deserved. After years at Primavera on the smaller stages, with a catalogue this immaculate — Grey Area, Sometimes I Might Be Introvert, the album that earned her the Mercury Prize, and her latest, Lotus — there was really no other place for her. Wearing the Spain national team shirt — something that in another context might have been complicated, but which the thousands of foreign faces in the crowd couldn’t have cared less about — she admitted mid-show that she hadn’t been entirely sure of herself going in. Her last performance before the festival had taken so much out of her she’d ended up with neck pain, and she was genuinely worried about matching the scale of the stage. She needn’t have. Whether it was the adrenaline rush of seeing the crowd that had come to see her, or something in the music gods’ hands, Little Simz let loose and became a whirlwind (she would go on to half-steal the Gorillaz show, but more on that later). She shone on I Love You, I Hate You and the magnificent Introvert, dropped a tremendous DJ set mid-show, then came back with the full band for razor-sharp cuts like Point and Kill, Lion and Free — and even came down to the crowd for Woman, which sent the place over the edge. One of the best shows of this edition, no question.

Another of the best sunset shows happened almost at the same time, and it has a Spanish name: Rusowsky. What can we even tell you? The author of Daisy has undergone a transformation since the album came out, and his live show has changed completely, moving from being a madman with a mixing desk to a band in wigs. He filled the Cupra stage space all the way to the back, and that is partly explained by Tiny Desk: he is now an artist with fans all over the world. It is fun to clap along with a Swede and an Irish person, but even more fun is to experience one of his shows in full: to move from the most intimate singing to the funniest dancing, with the goofiest visuals in the background, and to feel both sides merge with BBY Romeo alongside his dear friend, Ralphie Choo. What has become clear to us is that, in essence, they are two affectionate little cats of the kind you see in reels.

At Levi’s Plaza, Cobrah, who had come out for a cameo during Ashnikko’s concert to sing their track Wet Like together, had half an hour to show her fans why her combination of pop and dark electronics is so perfect. And that’s exactly what she did. Unlike other artists who had passed through there earlier, the Swedish artist made full use of the circular stage, moving non-stop and facing the fans who had queued for a long time to see and dance to her. Naturally, she sang several tracks from Torn, an album fresh out of the oven, and closed with her two biggest hits, Brand New Bitch and Good Pus, which had everyone jumping like mad. At the Plenitude stage, Safety Trance came to deliver an audiovisual show that was pure energy. The Venezuelan DJ and producer had just presented Sacrificio, an album featuring collaborations with artists such as Arca (who was in the front row dancing and supporting her great friend and collaborator), Sega Bodega, Six Sex, Nusar3000, Lourdes Leon and Lua de Santana. It is frantic and chaotic, and so was his incredible set.

But the night’s clear centrepiece was The xx. Nostalgia is an extraordinarily powerful force, one dragging both music and cinema towards a fairly degrading lack of originality and self-satisfaction (sequels nobody asked for, reheated leftovers of leftovers that sound exactly the same, and so on). Yet hearing Crystalised, Say Something Loving, Loud Places, On Hold or Intro again really did activate a part of our memories and rekindle feelings in our hearts that are difficult to put into words. The show could be divided, broadly speaking, into three acts: they began softer and more melancholic, then gradually raised the pulse until it burst into an ecstasy in which everyone present felt embraced by Romy, Oliver and Jamie in a tender, generous way. It was beautiful. They themselves reminded us how many times they had played Primavera Sound, one of the first festivals to trust them and repeatedly book them. Now, after so many years spent on their solo careers, there was nowhere else to reunite and create this moment that we will keep with us forever.

On the other main stage, another legendary band, one that has been accompanying us for even longer, came to show why stages are their natural habitat. It took a while to get going — that was the arc of the Gorillaz show. The Mountain is a wonderful album, but live, or at least the tracks they chose for the setlist, they don’t hit as hard as the rest of their catalogue. The Manifesto would have worked a treat here, especially knowing Trueno was in Madrid. No luck, with or without him. Damon Albarn also seemed a little scattered throughout, for what it’s worth. Fortunately, the ever-charismatic Yasiin Bey (formerly known as Mos Def) and Little Simz were there to lift things with tracks like Stylo and the ferocious Garage Palace. As was Posdnuos, who, half-joking half-serious, called the crowd out for being low-energy while The Shadowy Light was playing — apparently one of his all-time favourites, if we’re to take his word for it. Though, to be fair, it’s not exactly one of their more energetic tracks. All of that changed in an instant with the last two massive hits that closed the show, Feel Good Inc. and Clint Eastwood. You can have a middling performance, but if you close it memorably, that’s what people walk away with. And it’s what we walked away with.

Among all this, many chose to go and see Marina Diamandis, or as we knew her in her Tumblr era, Marina & The Diamonds. If this was about nostalgia, she too hit the nail on the head. It was her first ever performance in Barcelona, something as surprising as it is almost laughable. But anyway, the crowd was waiting for her with open arms, ready to sing hits such as Bubblegum Bitch and Primadonna, definitely two of the concert’s most wonderful moments. The feeling of communion, of finally experiencing something like this, was palpable in the air. She, dressed in an ultra-shiny almost-wedding suit, butterfly veil included, was radiant. And what can we say about her voice, one of the best of the festival: immaculate, clear, powerful. There were also moments of euphoria with Cuntissimo, her biggest recent hit, and when she covered Madonna’s Hung Up halfway through Metallic Stallion.

One of the night’s surprises came from Femtanyl. Well, all right, it was not that surprising: we interviewed them a few months ago when they released Man Bites Dog, a ferocious record in which the duo formed by Noelle and Juno show that rage, the urge for liberation and shameless self-expression are the right path. There were mosh pits, Noelle threw himself into the crowd and went crowdsurfing, and all of us there left our necks and every joint behind as we unloaded our energy in front of these two extremely young artists with a huge future ahead of them.

Just as irreverent are the Irish group Kneecap. The Irish crew are a whirlwind: their live show is energetic, furious, political and very funny. The Belfast boys talked about how last year, during the festival, they had played the Apolo, but this time they were finally graduating from a club stage to one of Primavera’s main stages — though maybe no one told them an insurance company had put its name on it, but best not go down that rabbit hole. Among the highlights, none other than Fontaines D.C. vocalist Grian Chatten joined them for Better Way to Live. There were of course calls for Palestine and against the British Crown, because Palestine, An Ra and Get Your Brits Out were all there. They blew the soles off our shoes with Smugglers & Scholars, H.O.O.D, Liars Tale and Sayonara. Let them come every year.

The intensity stayed right at the top with Ninajirachi and her album I Love My Computer. The producer opened with a remix of Berghain by Rosalía, a nod to the local crowd that was hugely appreciated (she also played a remix of Rock Music, one of Charli xcx’s new tracks). But after the Barcelona-born singer’s angelic voice, it was time for the real concert: Infohazard sounded huge, with everyone jumping and very few phones in sight. So did I Wanna Cry, It’s You and Fuck My Computer, which closed a rounded set.

For the closing stretch, Peggy Gou took over Cupra in front of thousands of people who did not want the moment to end. Honestly, the music sounded very weak, but that did not stop everyone there from closing another edition of the festival with a smile on their face.