Our Intern’s Guide To Primavera Sound Barcelona
Words by Chloe Flaherty.
Music festivals are some of the most miserably romantic, disgustingly awesome adrenaline rushes you can find.
Outside of the sponsored social-media trip with balconies and VIP lounges, there’s something incredibly democratic about seeing music in a festival crowd. However, it demands a lot from your body. I’m here to validate your fears and make fun of you so that you might actually have some fun this summer at Primavera Sound—or any festival, for that matter.
(Catch Caribou on the 4th, big acts start the 5th. Don’t miss: IDLES, Charli XCX & Troye Sivan, FKA Twigs, Denzel Curry, The Dare, Nourished by Time.)
For starters:
Take care of yourself. I’m not staring at you because I’m admiring your Acne Studios shirt. You’re wearing a black long sleeve in 100-degree weather. It’s worrisome.
Know the lineup if you’re barricade. It helps to know if you’re seeing IDLES in the hours pre-Sabrina-Carpenter to avoid unwanted bloody noses.
Ear protection. Earplugs are good—buy a few because they’ll fall out. AirPods work too but don’t spend your life’s savings, you’ll either lose them or trash them.
Remember your free will. Just because everybody is going into one line doesn’t mean you have to (this applies to bathrooms, merch, food, entries, and exits.)
Stay Aware. These are eighty-thousand capacity fields. Know your exits and be aware of the personalities you’re standing near.
(On the 6th, don’t miss: Salem, Clairo, Fcukers, Florence Sinclair, Chanel Beads, Feeble Little Horse)
Sneakers get ugly. Lean in.
Position. That thing where you pretend your friend is a few rows ahead doesn’t work in this size of crowd. You will most likely get stuck where you are, to the dismay of everyone around you.
Crowd emergencies. If you’re in a crowd and you’re hurt or panicking to get out, tell the people near you that you need help, whether you know them or not. This is how word spreads to the front / side / rear security or the artist on stage. You are only alone if you think you’re alone.
Getting out. If the crowd rushes the stage, don’t fight it—relax and let yourself be moved until you can exit.
If you’re tired, go to the weird little things. Climb an installation, caress an art piece, pass out on a rock. I think that’s what they’re made for.
(On the 7th, don’t miss: Turnstile, Fontaines D.C., LCD Soundsystem, Squid, Frost Children, Black Country, New Road)
Don’t do drugs if you don’t do drugs.
Listen to your body. Coming from somebody who has spent 70% of Coachella in a med tent, be honest with yourself if you have asthma—or it will be honest with you.
You’re not wasting money by taking a break. You’re wasting money if you faint during the headliner you came to see. Take a nap.
Make a friend with a boat. Tropical Fuck Storm stopped their set in 2022 to salute a boat of martini-drunk attendees serenading the mosh pit. Having range is good.
The phone thing. Start making some beautiful concert videos—-a lot of times Charli XCX isn’t in frame. Get creative with it.
Club rules still apply for women. The girls you meet in the bathroom are your new sisters. It’s just all a bit more sweaty and gross.
Home. Don’t have any illusions about getting home quickly. Public transport from Parc del Fòrum gets harder as the night goes on, no matter how much the festival team streamlines it. Meander the streets, quietly, until the buses start running again.
Tourism. Say this with me: I am in Barcelona. I deserve to be sprayed with a water gun. Festivals have the potential to have an incredible, positive impact on their community, however, it also enables a lot of drunken tourists to roam the streets of Spain at four o’clock in the morning and leave their trash everywhere. Respect the city inside and outside of festival grounds.
Support the local economy. Buy records, eat out, go to the pop-up shows at little venues, love the music and get to know where you are.
Be a good guest. Have fun. See your favorite bands and get really, really sunburnt. Keep this festival going and come back next year.