He had some grace that the elements seem to be conspired so that the Azkena Rock Festival (ARF), which has been held from Thursday to Saturday in Vitoria-Gasteiz, was as uncomfortable as possible. He started with a scorching sun and ended with ice rain. Thus everyone may complain about something. But even in these circumstances the organization estimated at 47,000 the total visits to the enclosure, around 15,000 spectators per day. One more year, and there are no less, the contest has shown that it has a faithful and suffered parish, the dream of any festivals organizer.
The best thing that can be said about this year’s poster is that it was balanced, which is not little. It would not be bad that some year the ARF will bet more on the present than for the past, after years of wandering as in soul in sorrow. Rock, that genre umbrella under which almost everything begins, begins to raise their heads, there are new artists with entity and speech, and if the festival wants to be relevant at some point, it should echo it. But the veterans, the nucleus on which the Azkena is built complied with a note and that has not always been so.
This edition began strong. Thursday is usually little more than a contact, but in 2025 there was more audience than ever, perhaps attracted by a more solid poster than usual on the first day. They were BuzzCocks, rather what remains of them, which is little, but well, look, their repertoire is great and acted at seven in the afternoon. Not so bad. Melissa Etheridge, veteran singer -songwriter of Kansas, was energetic and voluntary, her live was less than more and convinced many who had gone to see if it was true a rumor that circulated through the enclosure: that Bruce Springsteen was going to appear as a guest artist. “He has landed in Donosti a while,” some commented as an irrefutable proof that something was going to happen that, of course, did not happen.
It doesn’t matter, these things as tender, as of neighboring patio, are the ones that make the ARF something special. More in these times when it seems that anything that does not fill two football stadiums is almost underground. And among all the people who went through the festival during the weekend we would not have done a metropolitan. Neither is missing. That this is not understood as a criticism. The times that run have turned Azkena into a festival boutique. Live to see.
Returning to what happened. The Dinosaur Jr. Thursday was the most wonderful disaster of the year. The idea sounded phenomenal: the original formation, that there was a time when you could not even see, celebrating the 30th anniversary of Without a Sound, His most popular album. The amazing thing is that they have been doing this for months and in Vitoria seemed that the album was not known. The leader, J. Mascis, is the king of reluctance, the prince of “I don’t care” and the Marquis del Barullo. They said they were going to touch the entire album and did it. In the same order, without showing any interest and with Mascis challenging as a Mapache that would have caught the testicles with a drawer. As I did not remember the letters they were taken in panels one meter long. The presbyopy, friends. At many times the voice seemed to be in Burgos, the bass of Lou Barlow in Murcia and Murph, the drums, acted as if it were not with it to give coherence to that fuck. Of so bestially inaccurate it was great. As fascinating as seeing videos of falls on YouTube. There was a handful of occasional moments of incredible brilliance when, sometimes it seemed that by mistake, the three of them played the same song. Seeing them is easy to empathize with that boredom that causes perfection, that fatigue of doing things well, that laziness of worrying about the details. You throw and come out as God wants. If it goes well, great. If not, to see if there is more luck with the next one. A ten. After this phenomenon of nature that of Lee Rocker, the bassist of the Stray Cats, was as pleasant as a fresh shower after a sauna. A canonical review of some of the most popular themes of his band and Rockabilly classics. As a closure, impeccable.
On Friday there were no surprises if we except for the small detail that the fire of a company of Vitoria made that for several hours from virtually any point in the city, a huge cloud of black smoke was seen in the sky and it seemed that the doors of hell had opened. In the enclosure everything passed as expected. John Lydon’s Pil have always been a good idea with a not so good development. It is funny to see Lydon with the same pride he was with 20 years but with 50 kilos more. There was curiosity about the new Ian Svenonius project, Scape -is, which turned out to be among Suicide, Silver Apples and those preacher forms that are the brand of the house. Turbonegro are a sponsorship, for joy of his fans, and John Fogerty was great with 80 years, reviewing a colossal repertoire with a band of kids, among which were two of his children, who covered the obvious weaknesses of age. This festival seems made for him and was aware of it. A ration of good populism is never bad.
If on Saturday night the rain had endured a while, perhaps that of Manic Street Preachers would have been one of the festival’s concerts. They are so professional and correct that with a little heat from the public could have been memorable. But water fell with viciousness and the audience was more worried about protecting than what happened on stage. Hours before that curious phenomenon that are The Lemon Twigs, twenty -year -old who seem taken from a Californian film of the seventies, made such a beautiful, so elegant and so retro concert that it is very difficult to put on them. Nor is it possible to say anything bad of a guy as elegant as English Richard Hawley.
At dusk, Flaming Lips showed that they are another imperfectly perfect group, if Dinosaur Jr had been all reluctant, Flaming Lips is all delivery. Oklahoma’s group is happiness without irony, celebration and joy. They are colors, confetti and giant balloons. Many people wondered if they belong to Azkena, for part of the usual public that is not rock, it is pop, anathema. I think they get confused. Rock is not an Olympic discipline, it is a way of understanding music. Rock is sincerity, non -artifice and that of Flaming Lips are left over. In any case, the best thing about Azkena Rock Festival, in this edition and in any other, is that it lends itself to this type of passionate Byzantine discussions. During a weekend a year there is nothing more important than that. Hopefully it will continue like that many more years.