Locos Por La Musica
- Rhyan Paul
- Dec 16, 2025
- 4 min read
By the time the doors opened at the Roig Arena on the afternoon of December 13th, Valencia already felt like it was leaning into a collective act of remembrance. Locos Por La Música is not a nostalgia trap so much as a living archive — a touring celebration of Spanish pop and rock that refuses to be embalmed. At the Roig Arena, the concept expanded to arena scale: seven hours of uninterrupted music, seven acts, and a crowd spanning generations, from original fans who lived these songs the first time around to younger converts who know them by heart thanks to car stereos, family parties and an inherited emotional memory.
The Roig Arena continues to assert itself as one of Valencia’s most important new cultural infrastructures. Purpose-built, modern, and acoustically adaptable, it managed the difficult task of hosting a marathon event without ever feeling unwieldy or impersonal. Sightlines were clear, sound remained consistent across the space, and logistics — no small feat for a multi-artist bill — ran with impressive efficiency. Unlike older venues that buckle under the weight of legacy acts and long runtimes, Roig Arena felt designed for exactly this kind of event: celebratory, high-capacity, and emotionally charged. It didn’t just host Locos Por La Música — it framed it.

Opening duties fell to Girasoules, a band whose reputation as tireless live performers precedes them. Formed in the early 2000s, Girasoules have built their career on melodic pop-rock infused with Mediterranean warmth and festival-ready choruses. While they may not carry the same mainstream legacy as later acts on the bill, their role was crucial: setting the tone.
Their set was energetic and unpretentious, rooted in upbeat rhythms and sunlit hooks that eased the audience into the day. Rather than attempting to compete with the weight of history that would follow, Girasoules played to their strengths — immediacy, groove, and connection. As an opener, they succeeded in transforming early arrivals into active participants rather than passive spectators.

Few bands in Spanish pop history have navigated intimacy and provocation quite like Amistades Peligrosas. Emerging in the early 1990s, the duo became known for their emotionally charged songs, lyrical tension, and a dynamic that blurred the line between romance and confrontation. Hits like “Estoy por ti” and “Me quedaré solo” are still emotionally loaded decades later.
At Roig Arena, their performance leaned into that dramatic core. The crowd responded with a mix of reverence and release, singing along not just to melodies but to memories. Amistades Peligrosas reminded everyone that Spanish pop has always had a darker, more emotionally complex undercurrent — and that those songs still land with precision.

When La Guardia took the stage, the atmosphere shifted toward classic, radio-era Spanish pop-rock. Formed in Granada in the early 1980s, La Guardia are forever linked to La Movida’s afterglow, with songs like “Mil calles llevan hacia ti”etched into the national consciousness.
Their set was tight, confident, and unapologetically melodic. There is something timeless about La Guardia’s songwriting — earnest without being naive, romantic without excess. At Roig Arena, their performance felt like a communal exhale, a reminder of an era when pop-rock ruled the airwaves and sincerity was a strength rather than a liability.

Los Rebeldes brought swagger to the afternoon. Founded by Carlos Segarra in Barcelona in 1979, the band has long fused rockabilly, classic rock ’n’ roll and streetwise attitude into a distinctly Spanish voice. Their catalogue is built for live performance, and decades on, that hasn’t changed.
At Roig Arena, Los Rebeldes injected the lineup with grit and rhythm. Upright bass lines, sharp guitars and a sense of perpetual motion kept the crowd moving. They didn’t just play songs — they embodied a lifestyle, a reminder that Spanish rock has always had grease under its fingernails and hips firmly in motion.

As the unmistakable voice of La Unión, Rafa Sánchez carries one of the most iconic legacies in Spanish pop. Since the mid-1980s, his voice has been synonymous with elegance, drama and sonic sophistication, particularly through timeless tracks like “Lobo-hombre en París.”
Performing solo but backed by a tight live band, Rafa Sánchez delivered a set steeped in atmosphere. His vocals remain expressive and controlled, and the audience reaction bordered on reverent. This was less a concert moment and more a collective acknowledgment of how deeply embedded his songs are in Spain’s cultural DNA.

By the time Revolver appeared, the day had matured into something heavier, more reflective. Led by Carlos Goñi since the late 1980s, Revolver occupies a unique space in Spanish music — part rock band, part songwriter’s confessional. Their music has always been about emotional clarity, introspection and lyrical honesty.
At Roig Arena, Revolver’s set felt expansive and cinematic. Songs unfolded patiently, allowing melodies and lyrics to breathe. Goñi’s presence anchored the performance, reminding the audience that Locos Por La Música isn’t only about hits — it’s about songs that accompany lives, heartbreaks and long drives.

Closing the night were Seguridad Social, the perfect choice to bring the marathon to a euphoric conclusion. Formed in Valencia in 1982, the band has always blended rock, punk, ska and Latin rhythms with a sense of humour and social commentary. Their live shows are famously chaotic, joyful affairs.
At Roig Arena, they turned nostalgia into celebration. From “Chiquilla” to their more ska-driven anthems, the arena erupted into movement. Seguridad Social didn’t just close the festival — they detonated it, leaving the crowd exhilarated, hoarse and smiling.
Locos Por La Música at Roig Arena wasn’t simply a festival — it was a curated journey through decades of Spanish pop and rock history, staged with care and respect. The Roig Arena proved itself a vital new home for large-scale cultural events in Valencia, while the artists reminded everyone why these songs have survived changing trends and technologies.
Seven bands, seven eras, seven hours — and not a wasted moment. In a time obsessed with novelty, Locos Por La Música made a powerful case for memory, melody and the enduring power of a great song played loud, together, in a room full of people who still care.
Words and photos: Rhyan Paul




























































































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