Friday 29/05/09 Primavera Sound Festival, Day Two @ Parc Del Forum,
Read the full review on Gigwise here...
Day Two was the top day - non-stop hits from evening ‘til morning. The sun was shining high in the sky and even the industrial wastelands around the site look pretty in Spanish dusk. The day kicked off musically with the Vivian Girls whose washed out, fuck you we don’t care punk played perfectly in the Spanish sun peeping through the weird structure surrounding the Pitchfork stage. Playful chatting about hitch-hikers they’d grabbed in Leeds made us jealous. These girls are great, we want to hang out with them.
Art Brut are a reasonable joke that’s gone horribly wrong. Eddie Argos came onto the Estrella Damm stage with a fresh new album in his pocket and the world of confidence. Art Brut have one album’s worth of good songs – that’s all they ever really threatened to have, but then they got big, and now they’ve got three albums and they’re playing the ‘main’ stage at Primavera. They are the low point of the weekend: their songs don’t matter any more, they’ve lost themselves.
Sunn 0))) are so unfathomably far away from Art Brut in everything they are doing that it is painful. They are two massive men. They are one huge wall of speakers. They are wave after wave… after… wave… of grind. They played The Grimmrobe Demos from start to finish in the weekend’s only Don’t Look Back series show for ATP. They played wearing their trademark capes and shrouded in smoke. They’re notes were difficult to pick out amid gut-wrenching feedback and white noise. What began as a jam-packed auditorium thinned quickly. You get the impression that that is what they wanted: they view that as a win! Their music makes you think, it forces you to think hard – it’s claustrophobic and inquisitive. Watching them is a challenge rather than a pleasure – and it’s the succeeding that brings the happiness.
We gathered our thoughts, and what was left of our souls to run over for Jarvis. He followed Art Brut on the ‘main’ stage and came on like the hero he is. He’s full of hot moves still, and good tunes (maybe not that good, but good nonetheless) and now he’s got Steve Albini’s trademark crunch in there too. He paraded round the stage grandly, his voice sounded spot on and his chat was the best yet – “what does that banner say? Can I wear it?”
The Dan Deacon Ensemble were something else over on the Pitchfork stage with drums pulsing like The Boredoms and synths flying high, while Deacon himself – a sort of hyperactive musical savant – careered around trying to organize awkward fun, and getting frustrated when the Spanish didn’t understand his 100mph stream of English instructions. After the second unsuccessful attempt to organize a dance battle Deacon’s commitment swung from quaint to annoying and Albini called from the ATP stage.
Shellac were immense, crashing through a monster set, full of hits (yet sorely lacking Prayer To God and Watch Song). They almost eschewed their usual question session in favour of more hits allowing one question – “why haven’t you played Watch Song?”… well? Todd Trainer was incredible as always – like a sexual lizard. And Albini and Weston’s vocals filled with the same bile they’ve always had, and will always have.
Art Brut are a reasonable joke that’s gone horribly wrong. Eddie Argos came onto the Estrella Damm stage with a fresh new album in his pocket and the world of confidence. Art Brut have one album’s worth of good songs – that’s all they ever really threatened to have, but then they got big, and now they’ve got three albums and they’re playing the ‘main’ stage at Primavera. They are the low point of the weekend: their songs don’t matter any more, they’ve lost themselves.
Sunn 0))) are so unfathomably far away from Art Brut in everything they are doing that it is painful. They are two massive men. They are one huge wall of speakers. They are wave after wave… after… wave… of grind. They played The Grimmrobe Demos from start to finish in the weekend’s only Don’t Look Back series show for ATP. They played wearing their trademark capes and shrouded in smoke. They’re notes were difficult to pick out amid gut-wrenching feedback and white noise. What began as a jam-packed auditorium thinned quickly. You get the impression that that is what they wanted: they view that as a win! Their music makes you think, it forces you to think hard – it’s claustrophobic and inquisitive. Watching them is a challenge rather than a pleasure – and it’s the succeeding that brings the happiness.
We gathered our thoughts, and what was left of our souls to run over for Jarvis. He followed Art Brut on the ‘main’ stage and came on like the hero he is. He’s full of hot moves still, and good tunes (maybe not that good, but good nonetheless) and now he’s got Steve Albini’s trademark crunch in there too. He paraded round the stage grandly, his voice sounded spot on and his chat was the best yet – “what does that banner say? Can I wear it?”
The Dan Deacon Ensemble were something else over on the Pitchfork stage with drums pulsing like The Boredoms and synths flying high, while Deacon himself – a sort of hyperactive musical savant – careered around trying to organize awkward fun, and getting frustrated when the Spanish didn’t understand his 100mph stream of English instructions. After the second unsuccessful attempt to organize a dance battle Deacon’s commitment swung from quaint to annoying and Albini called from the ATP stage.
Shellac were immense, crashing through a monster set, full of hits (yet sorely lacking Prayer To God and Watch Song). They almost eschewed their usual question session in favour of more hits allowing one question – “why haven’t you played Watch Song?”… well? Todd Trainer was incredible as always – like a sexual lizard. And Albini and Weston’s vocals filled with the same bile they’ve always had, and will always have.
posted by Hot Sweats at 7:47 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home