It’s not a revolutionary statement to say that British festivals are the best in the world. There’s a reason that people spend tens of thousands of pounds across their lifetime trekking back to Glastonbury every year like it's Mecca, after all. But then, what happens when Glastonbury isn’t on?
For many Brits, the default understudy is now overseas: Primavera, a Barcelona-born festival with a seam-bursting lineup, (almost) guaranteed sunshine, plus a side of cervezas and patatas bravas, por favor. This year, all eyes were on Barca as contingents from Europe and elsewhere descended upon the city’s Parc del Forum to bob along to acts such as The Cure, Gorillaz, Geese, Little Simz, The XX and Addison Rae while soaking up the warm Spanish sun.
It sounds like the recipe for a perfect time, but unfortunately, Primavera 2026 was lacking the special ingredient that makes the festival experience so moreish. And it’s not for the reasons you might expect.
The thunderstorms of Thursday were well publicised. After a few biblical and enchanting performances in the rain (Geese, on the Occident stage, were outstanding, and Oklou’s Cupra set was unexpectedly high energy), a smattering of acts were cancelled, including Massive Attack, Doja Cat, and Bad Gyal. Many people left and didn’t return. Those who braved the elements were rewarded with excellent performances by Overmono and Fcuckers, and Thursday day ticket holders were refunded.
The sun emerged for Friday’s programming, and festivalgoers returned to the site with a renewed sense of hope. We arrived in time for Addison Rae, who writhed around a mock gymnasium setup while wearing a pearlescent bikini, a picture of early aughts Britney Spears (and someone well deserving of the comparison). It is my sincere hope that she won over at least a handful of initially resistant The Cure fans, who were staking out places for their exhaustive two and a half hour set afterwards.
I caught Role Model instead (the result of PinkPantheress timing-related reasons), a gamble that paid off as I beamed back at a young singer so clearly thrilled to be there. “This might just be the best night of my life,” Tucker Pillsbury (yes, that’s his real name) drawled before launching into hits like Look at That Woman, Writing’s On The Wall and Sally, When the Wine Runs Out. He dropped his running Sally guest star appearance for the first time that night, and the crowd didn’t seem to mind one bit.
PinkPantheress was next, and even she seemed confused by the decision to place her on the Cupra amphitheatre stage, which quickly became too busy to be enjoyable. The sound was iffy unless uncomfortably close, and even though Pink gave it her best shot, it felt safest to leave and wait out the crowds. By the time Ki/ki took the same stage for a heavy techno closing set at 4am, space was much more plentiful, and ravers seemed perfectly content.
The final day was the biggest, with Gorillaz, The XX, Little Simz and more on the lineup. We arrived in time for Simz, who played arguably the best set of the weekend as the sun set over the Barcelona coastline. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Simbi,” she said after performing newer songs Thief, Flood and Young. Even the most unengaged crowd member would have been onside by the time she got to I Love You, I Hate You, and completely enthralled once she finished up the fast-paced, unrelenting verses of Venom. Closing with showstopper Gorilla, there wasn’t a doubt felt: Simz has knocked it out of the Parc. Things were made even better with a surprise set by Olivia Rodrigo at Occident, and we rushed there just in time to see the young American singer bring out Robert Smith for their new, unreleased collaboration What’s Wrong With Me, which felt like a real treat.
We escaped the screaming crowds of Olivia for The XX, who were considerably moodier but just as masterful as Simz or any other performers that weekend. Opening with Crystalised, the third track on their cult 2009 self-titled LP, attendees were whacked in the chest with a suckerpunch of nostalgia, one which carried through the entire set. They picked carefully from each member’s respective oeuvre: Enjoy Your Life by Romy, GMT by Oliver Sim (remix courtesy of Jamie), and Loud Places from Jamie xx. They closed with a double whammy of I Dare You, the closest thing to a happy XX track, and Intro, which has an opening riff so powerful that it silenced the crowd in an instant.
Gorillaz were the final headliners, closing things out on the main stage with a slightly odd set that had a disappointing bangers-to-non-bangers ratio. This included a distinct lack of Dare, simply because it’s not on the band’s current touring setlist. Damon Albarn was far from being on top form and seemed actively disconnected from the crowd at certain points. It often took guests - of which, admittedly, there were loads - to lift the energy, which seemed odd considering how experienced Albarn is as a frontman. Luckily, Kneecap and Peggy Gou were two perfectly energetic final performances at Occident and Cupra, respectively, but the oddness of Gorillaz definitely took the wind out of some punters’ sails.
Overall, I left Primavera with a strange sensation I couldn’t shake. While the bookings and sets were largely brilliant, there was something lacking in the way of the festival’s soul. From the moment I arrived, the energy was off, with punters pushing and shoving their way through crowds without a single care for their fellow festival goers. I chalked this up to rain and bad moods, but it didn’t let up all weekend, and if anything, it worsened. During PinkPantheress, people fell and weren’t helped up. After Geese, elbows flew as crowds made their way in different directions. It was upsetting and unfamiliar to me.
The disdain appears to partially stem from the anti-tourist sentiment that prevails across Barcelona, somewhat fairly (the city has been ravaged by overtourism). And it wasn't all Spaniards. Perhaps fearing the language barrier, British and Irish people willfully neglected the words “excuse me” (or, more correctly, “disculpe”). Either way, spending three days jostling against people instead of alongside them certainly leaves a strange taste in your mouth. A taste that no amount of surprise sets and cervezas can mask.
