Suede enthusiasm at Cruïlla's tribute to the 90s

BarcelonaBarcelona's major festivals are children of the nineties of the 20th century. So is Cruïlla, even though its first edition took place in the 21st century. Its director, Jordi Herreruela, lived the most impetuous period of his youth precisely in that era. Therefore, it is not surprising that Cruïlla's programming reserves space for the music of those years, as is the case with Primavera Sound and Sónar. Every generation has the right to build its own nostalgia, but in Barcelona's macro-festivals, the memory of the nineties seems to carry more weight than others. The programming for Cruïlla's second day, with Suede, Pixies, and Garbage on the main stages of the Parc del Fòrum, can be interpreted as a tribute to the generation that has already passed fifty.

Many people were eager for Suede, and half an hour before the concert, they were already taking positions at the Occident stage. At a quarter to nine, the relentless afternoon sun had yielded to the stuffiness. However, this did not seem to affect the elegant glamour of the British artist Brett Anderson, who kicked off the performance with Disintegrate, one of the three songs from the album Antidepressants (2025) that he usually plays on this tour. These are sober pieces that dignify the band's present, Disintegrate with vigorous guitars and a chorus that plays in the league of epic pop. That said, the concert generously traversed the albums of the nineties. Soon, Trash and Animal nitrate were heard. In the first one, he just had to launch the melody and place his foot on the monitor for the audience to overflow with enthusiasm and sing “Just trash, me and you / It's in everything we do”. With Animal nitrate, he placed the concert in the territory of legends. The delivery was reciprocal, like the happy reunion of two lovers who have long since overcome the stage of reproaches. Anderson sang close to the edge of the stage, and on The drowners, he decided he wanted to go down and sing among the audience. All this in the first fifteen minutes. The romanticism of The 2 of us calmed the effervescence, but the final crescendo of the song lifted the night again. Always with sonic impact and tones of vocal and stage charisma, they brought out Filmstar, Can’t get enough, and Suede led the repertoire to gems that continue to shine thirty years later, such as So young and Beautiful ones.

The Sky of the Pixies

The final apotheosis of Brett Anderson, soaked in sweat and happiness among the crowd, gave way to Pixies, headliners on the Estrella Damm stage. The Boston band started like Pogačar at the Tourmalet: with nothing to lose and with force. There was so much energy that if you closed your eyes, you could think that on stage there was a group of 20-year-olds and not three of the four musicians who founded Pixies forty years ago. In front of a huge crowd, Black Francis/Frank Black led the discharge of that rock with a melodic spirit that owed so much to the hardcore-punk of Hüsker Dü. Joey Santiago didn't take long to squeeze the guitar distortion (and play by brushing his cap against the neck), and between drummer Dave Lovering and new bassist Emma Richardson, they completed the band's most combative version.

Little by little, the rocky rhythm moderated enough to make the melodic arsenal of alternative hits like Here comes your man and Wave of mutilation prevail. Pixies haven't always lived up to what they represented in the early nineties, but with concerts like the one at Cruïlla, they convince the most skeptical. The way they propelled Isla de encanta shook the audience. They could have rested to absorb the ovation, but they preferred to move on without pause and link it with a version of Head on by The Jesus and Mary Chain. Only when they had been playing for an hour did they lower the intensity. A Velouria more shouted than sung opened a less successful passage that caused some desertions among the audience, until the riff of Debaser and the chorus of Monkey gone to heaven raised the intensity again. Santiago once again excelled at managing the distortion, and the audience repeated verses they could have sung on repeat.

In this final stretch, very juicy things happened. Richardson sang In heaven, the version by David Lynch and Peter Ivers, with a very fitting mysterious indolence, and later Winterlong, by Neil Young, with Santiago opting to be a Crazy Horse. Black Francis introduced with the acoustic Where is my mind? before the bass and drums pumped the question, the guitar injected electricity, and the Fòrum shouted the song's title and sang along to the circular riff in full nostalgic ecstasy. And finally, Into the white closed 95 very profitable minutes in the hands of Pixies.

A few hours earlier, the Americans Garbage appeared on the Estrella Damm stage in strict black, with the exception of Shirley Manson's red boots, a gothic aesthetic that was quite a challenge considering the heat. They started with some of their recent songs, like There’s no future in optimism and Empty, but they soon made a concession to nostalgia by playing I think I’m paranoid, one of the most popular songs in their discography. Despite being a rock goddess, Manson also proved to be human when she admitted that the heat was unbearable and thanked the audience for accompanying them despite the "horrible" weather. She even predicted that in the future, festivals like Cruïlla will have to be held in closed (and air-conditioned) venues to avoid the harshest consequences of the climate emergency.

“You are very strong,” she said shortly before professing her love for Barcelona. “This morning I drew the curtains of my room and saw the wonderful Sagrada Família, in a very different state than the last time I saw it. It is a great testament to what humanity can achieve if it dedicates its efforts to beautiful things,” she remarked. And if The Cure was the protagonist of Primavera Sound, through Garbage, Cruïlla has also been partially, as the band paid tribute to Robert Smith's group with a version of Lovesong. Other highlights of the concert were Special and Cherry lips’ (go baby go!), although the former did not sound quite round. Manson dedicated one of the band's classics, When I grow up, to their die-hard fans, without whom they would not have had a long career. “We wrote this song thirty years ago. We have been through a lot together and it has been a privilege to watch you grow. Fans think that bands don't pay attention to them, but in our case, that's not true,” said Manson, who at some moments of the concert was on the verge of tears.

The empire of the sun

“Don't stop making plans,” said Enric Montefusco just before closing the concert of the Barcelona group Standstill at the Escenari Estrella Damm with the song Adelante Bonaparte. It was half past six in the afternoon and there was only one plan: to take shelter in the shade. That's what the audience did, taking advantage of the shade cast by the stage. Where the shade ended and the sun reigned, only a few daredevils ventured to reach the bars. Unlike other festivals, the price of drinks remains the same as last year: 4.50 euros for 400 cc of beer. Montefusco thanked the audience for their presence, of course, and announced that there will be a new Standstill album.

Immediately after, on the Occident stage, the sun exerted imperial power. Mishima's audience gathered in the shade in front of the stage or in a shadowy concrete triangle on one side. Between the two spaces, a void. The five members of Mishima, dressed in black as sophisticated rhyme love dictates, displayed skill and sensitivity, with David Carabén pronouncing each stress of La vella ferida with intention and sharing with the audience the miniature Cert, clar i breu. Curiously, or inexplicably, it was the first time Mishima had played at Cruïlla. Perhaps this was an extra incentive. The fact is that they gave a very good concert, and the audience responded by raising classics such as La forma d’un sentit, Menteix la primavera, Guspira, estel o carícia, Qui n’ha begut, Tot torna a començar (the culmination of the concert with everyone howling) and others like El temple, with that ending of vocal harmonies, mandolin, and keyboard with an organ sound. Nostalgia for the 2000s and 2010s, of course, activated by a solid group that maintains a very high level of artistic commitment. Not doing so would be to damage an extraordinary legacy. “I'm reviewing faces and you're all here. The entire history of Mishima. There are faces from 2003, from 2025… We've been a pain for many years,” said Carabén gratefully, looking at the audience before announcing that they are preparing a new album.

At the same time as Mishima, the sun distributed the audience of the Mallorcan Maika Makovski on the Vueling stage: in the shaded part of the stands and sheltered from the sound desk. The most resistant followed the concert very closely so as not to miss any of the details that she was putting into an octet formation, including a violinist and brass. Later, in the Imagin tent, the Barcelonans Alosa, the youngest of the day, confirmed their drawing power since they released the album the album El primer cant del matí (2025). Despite the sauna-like atmosphere of the venue, many people wanted to celebrate the folkloric freshness of Giulietta Vidal and Irene Romo. Square pandero, cello and two-part harmonies reign, and bass and guitar give body to a repertoire that deserves better climatic conditions. Climate emergency also affects the enjoyment of live music…