Del Poble Fest

Tavernes de la Valldigna has officially put itself on the festival map. In its first edition, Del Poble Fest managed to transcend expectations: 17,500 people over two nights, blistering live shows, and moments that’ll echo in Valencian music circles for a long time. Tavernes de la Valldigna isn’t supposed to sound like this. By day it’s all citrus scent and sleepy Mediterranean breeze. But for two nights this September, the quiet town roared like a Marshall stack turned to eleven.

Del Poble Fest isn’t trying to be just another big name on the summer circuit. It feels rooted — in Tavernes, in community, in local flavour. It brought together nostalgia acts and modern hits, food that speaks of place, and the sense that this was something built by people who care about where they’re from. The cultural calendar needed this kind of energy.

Here’s how every performer left their mark.

Melendi

The Spanish hit-maker opened Friday like a prizefighter, mixing gravelly flamenco-rock vocals with arena-sized hooks. Sing-alongs on Caminando por la vida felt like a communal rite. Pure headliner muscle.

Los Secretos

Four decades in and still heartbreak merchants. Their shimmering guitars and bittersweet harmonies gave the festival its most tender sing-along, a sunset soundtrack of elegant nostalgia.

Maldita Nerea

The Murcia crew came in smiling and left the crowd euphoric. Their pop-rock positivity was a sugar rush, with “El secreto de las tortugas” turning the crowd into a 17,000-voice choir.

Alex Ubago

The acoustic-pop romantic played it straight and soulful. His ballads, warm and unhurried, were the festival’s slow-dance moment—a needed exhale before the next adrenaline spike.

Cafe Quijano

Swing, bolero, and slick Latin grooves. Their smoky harmonies turned the main stage into a late-night Havana club. Impossible not to sway.

Rulo y la Contrabanda

A grittier, Springsteen-tinged set—rootsy guitars and road-worn charisma. They brought the rock quotient up a notch and reminded everyone Spain still breeds blue-collar anthems.

Buhos

Catalan party punks with brass in the mix. High-octane and unapologetically fun, they had the entire field pogoing before the first chorus hit.

Pignoise

Pop-punk veterans who still play like they’ve got something to prove. Tight riffs, shout-along choruses, and the kind of energy that sends beer cups flying.

Isabel Aaiun

A soulful newcomer with a smoky, R&B-infused voice. Her late-afternoon set was intimate and arresting—a promising contrast to the festival’s louder moments.

Tacho

The Valencian singer-songwriter delivered folk-pop sincerity and earned hushed attention. Think warm campfire vibes before the night roared back.

Seven Crashers

The festival’s left-field wildcard: an orchestral pop-rock collective mixing symphonic flourishes with arena dramatics. A cinematic, big-screen moment under the stars.

Jajajers

Comedy-driven spectacle meets music mash-ups. They broke the fourth wall, blending sharp humor with unexpected covers—a chaotic, hilarious palate cleanser.

Fercho Energy

The Saturday closer kept the party going past curfew with an EDM-heavy, bass-shaking set that turned the site into an open-air club. Pure 3 a.m. adrenaline.

Borja Navarro

The glue between sets, dropping sleek house and indie remixes to keep the energy simmering while stages turned over.

Sandra Valero

Valencian pop sparkle with a Eurovision-ready polish. Her short set in the Gastro League zone showed why local radio keeps her on repeat.

Paula Caveira

Alt-pop newcomer with haunting vocals and minimalist beats—small-stage intimacy that hinted at bigger things ahead.

Lemot

Indie-rock duo with arena instincts. Their melodic choruses filled the food-court stage like a headliner’s encore.

If this festival is the first draft, it’s already damn impressive. Del Poble Fest 2025 wasn’t perfect — but it had more heart, more moments of collective joy, and more “I’ll tell you about this someday” energy than many more established fests. It doesn’t just deserve to survive; it deserves to thrive.

Words and photos: Rhyan Paul