After frequenting a bunch of homegrown summer festivals à la Ruisrock, Provinssirock or Ilosaarirock, there's a small chance you will develop a sense of over-familiarity with the locales. This sensation could be compared to downhill skiing in Finland; the slopes in Vihti or Levi may have served well over the years, but the day will come when you'll start yearning for the snowy reaches of the Alps. Time thus felt ripe to broaden the audiovisual horizon by attending my first ever music festival abroad. Thanks to a hot tip from a fellow dance enthusiast, a bunch of friends and I managed to score tickets to a humble weekend festival called Sónar (approximately 120,000 attendees in the year 2013), hosted under the lovely mid-summer skies of Barcelona. And sure enough, I may have just discovered my new electronic Mecca.
Significant sensory observations were soon made after we entered the industrial complex venue in Fira Gran Via: the bass was positively b-b-bangin', and the visual effects often came close to what astronaut Gordo Cooper from “The Right Stuff” might describe as a 'heavenly light'. My keen nose also picked up that music lovers in Barcelona are really into the weed! This year's line-up resembled something of a 2.0 upgrade of Flow Festival's electronic selection, cranked up to eleven in terms of global popularity and four-to-the-floor street cred. Sonár will certainly scratch that dance floor itch regardless of whether you're into the funkier synths of Hot Chip (the good), the low-frequency screeches of Skrillex (the bad) or the relentless rap-rave of Die Antwoord (so ugly you cannot help but love it). With a total of four bustling stages, one of them accompanied by an utterly necessary bumper car ride, there were more than plenty of opportunities to wear down your favorite dancing shoes and work on that hearing loss.
The outrageous abundance of quality acts leads to the ever-present issue of transitioning between stages: do you stick around 'til the end of the eclectic rhythms (and countless costume switches) of Róisín Murphy, or do you bail out early enough to catch the opening mixes of the effeminate disco veteran Tiga? The organizers' insistence of overlapping headliners should also be made a punishable act; people really ought to consult ME before doing something as monumentally stupid as placing Hot Chip and Die Antwoord in the exact same time slot. That said, with a bit of careful planning (i.e. not getting completely smashed before the first act of the night) the admission price is more than covered after having the waves of electro wash over you all the way 'til 6AM – provided that whatever you are hopped on does not wear off (the trendy H₂O was my go-to chemical compound of the weekend).
Speaking of drug abuse, the single most infuriating type of festivalgoer has to be the douche who incessantly queues for overpriced BEER while great music is being performed elsewhere. Or perhaps my actual beef is with the genius who decided on selling booze and bottled water from the same drink stands, ensuring that no one gets anything served in due time. So, if queuing and staring at the same sweaty back for half an hour is not your idea of a good time, grab the first empty bottle you see, overcome any personal hygiene neuroses and keep refilling the agua in the nearest toilet. While it may taste a bit funky, tap water in Barcelona is quite safe to drink, and regular hydration will probably save you from the embarrassment of passing out in the middle of a crowd surf. And if your drug of choice is not in the official menu, fear not; the testing booths inside will help you determine whether the dealer whom you added the previous night on Facebook has provided you with the pure stuff. Safety first, kids!
Ultimately, after digesting some catchy beats, dazzling light shows and somewhat satisfying 8€ lasagnas, only one question remained: who is this doing this synthetic type of alpha beta psychedelic funking? That's right, the Chemical Brothers emerged during the peak of Saturday night to call out all EDM posers and lay out the chops needed to transform a bunch of drum samples and guitar grooves into the performance of a lifetime. Things were immediately kicked into high gear with the blistering neon rave display of “Hey Boy Hey Girl”, and the rest of the set was an effortless balance between sonic onslaughts such as “EML Ritual” and the more transcendental bliss outs of “Sunshine Underground” or “Escape Velocity”.
The plethora of killer tunes should come as no surprise to anyone versed in the immortal back catalogue of the Chemical Brothers, but what did catch me off guard was just how effectively the band has engineered these well-documented sounds into a vital live trip. Much of this greatness owes to the visual direction of Adam Smith (of Doctor Who fame), whose laborious combinations of animation and synchronized lasers echo the creative heydays of dance videos during the late 90s. Yet it is not just the nostalgia of the past that the band leans towards in the performance. In the midst of a raging psychedelic anthem, a sampled voice suddenly cries out: “The future – I'll see you there!” The Chemical Brothers is most certainly looking ahead to the inventive prospects of dance music, effectively earning them a clear-cut #1 spot in this year's Sónar roster. Skrillex, take note.