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FESTIVAL REVIEW - OPTIMUS PRIMAVERA SOUND 'PART TWO'

Here is part two of the Livemusic review of Portugal's very own Optimus Primavera Sound Festival. We travel far and wide you know!! Look out for the concluding part tomorrow...

Friday 8/06/2012
 
As festival experiences go, not many would match the one of this glorious day. With the sun quite high above us, Yo La Tengo started their lecture in feedback-fuelled Americana late afternoon. The three from Hoboken – truly heirs of the Velvet Underground – used their 1990s' masterpiece I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One as the backbone of the concert, performing as many as four cuts from this album. But the climax came with a more recent creation, Pass The Hatchet, I Think I'm Goodkind, a long, epic litany of drones and electric catharses half way between Neil Young and Can that saw how Ira Kaplan destroyed a whole set of strings of a guitar and part of another one's.
 
Even the insufferable Rufus Wainwright was pleasant to listen to that day. Less cynical and more warm-hearted that I'd have expected, the Canadian poured himself into singing bittersweet gems  such as Jericho and Going To A Town and charming and entertaining everyone with his line of thoughts between songs. The sun was setting, the spirits were high.
 
[1|left] I know that it is suicidal to dismiss a band like Flaming Lips, but apart from their – now cliché – over the top onstage spectacle, I've always found their music rather bland. Nothing better to escape this Pink Floyd of indie music than going to see the other lips, the black ones, who were performing at the same timeslot at the Club Stage. Indeed, fresh punk to fight the dinosaurs, Black Lips ended their show with the energising Bad Kids and (I Saw a Ghost) Lean, while some die-hard fans climbed up and invaded the stage.
 
Now, the same sort of decision but with different bands. Between seeing the cuddly Jeff Tweddy with Wilco going on and on with their hybrid of Led Zeppelin and krautrock at midnight, and getting the kicks with bad ass Steve Albini and his Shellac, the choice for me was clear. 
 
Anything else that day? Yes, the hyper-intense, brutally fragile, boutique-orientated-but-massively-enhancing feast that we had with Beach House in the small hours. Ladies and gentlemen, we were floating in space with Norway and Silver Soul, but the final song, Irene, took us to infinity and beyond. M83? Who needed them after this... it was also 2.30 am and I'm getting old.
 
///
 
Review - Noel Hernandez
 
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