La Fuga & Benito Kamelas

Valencia, brace yourselves. On Saturday, March 7, 2026, the legendary Roig Arena won’t just host a concert — it’s going to be invaded. This is the night when Spanish rock’s beloved troublemakers La Fuga and the unrelenting punk-poets Benito Kamelas crash together like two freight trains barreling down a neon-lit highway. The twist? This beast of a show has officially sold out, meaning every last ticket has been snatched up by maniacs desperate for a dose of loud guitars, bruising hooks, and unfiltered rock attitude.

This isn’t just a gig. This is kinetic energy with a pulse. This is a tribal call for people who understand that rock at its best feels like being hit with truth at 110 dB. This is the night where Roig Arena stops being a venue and starts being a ritual. And you either live for nights like this — or you wish you did.

La Fuga are not a band that whispers. They roar. They stomp. They spit out gritty anthems with the kind of urgency normally reserved for bar brawls and midnight confessions. Born from the rugged soil of Reinosa, these rock hardened troubadours have spent decades yanking rock music back into the open streets — away from the sterile bubble of commercial radio and into the alleys, bars, vans and heartlands of real people.

Their songs are scorched-earth poems about life lived sideways: love that bites, freedom that stings, and a stubborn refusal to apologize for wanting more out of the world. La Fuga don’t perform — they detonate. Expect riffs that feel like punches and choruses that make you shout even when you’re alone in your car.

Then there’s Benito Kamelas — the band that makes you feel like your parents’ house isn’t big enough for your dreams and your youth deserves a soundtrack with more grit than gloss. Their punk isn’t pretty. It’s honest. It’s messy. It’s the soundtrack of nights that start in rooftops and end in thoughtful silence on a park bench at dawn.

These are the architects of sing-along defiance — where the chords are sharp, the verses are lived-in, and the audience becomes one snarling, joyous organism of sweat, voice and unrepentant desire to scream the words.

Put the two of them together in one arena and the result is less “concert” and more “organized beautiful chaos.” Roig Arena on this night won’t be a place you visit — it’ll be a place you remember to your bones. The floor will thrum like a shared heartbeat. The back-and-forth between bands and crowd will feel like a colloquial religion. Every guitar riff will become a personal memory tattooed in sound.

And with the show sold out, there’s no room for seat-warmers or wallflowers. This is a full-house full-throttle midnight promise of rock’n’roll reclamation.

It’s about the kind of music that doesn’t ask for permission.It’s about voices raised not because they’re perfect — but because they’re real.It’s about guitars that refuse to be polite.It’s about thousands of people colliding into a shared moment that feels bigger than them.It’s about a sold-out arena vibrating in unison because this is the music that refuses to die quietly.

La Fuga and Benito Kamelas aren’t just bands on a bill; they’re two sides of the same reckless, beautiful coin. And on March 7, that coin is about to be flipped with maximum force.

Valencia — prepare. The arena is sold out. The amps are hot. The night is young. And rock is about to be baptized in fire and volume.