There’s something deeply civilised about starting your Saturday with distortion, sunshine, and a cold beer by the sea. But don’t let the daylight fool you—what went down at Concerts de la Pèrgola 2026 on March 28 wasn’t polite. It was a slow-burning riot disguised as a matinee. Set against the open, salt-stung backdrop of La Marina de València, the Pèrgola continues to prove why it’s one of the most vital live music spaces in the city—pulling in crowds week after week, often packing out around 1,500 people for these daytime sessions. By midday, the place was already buzzing. Sunglasses on. Beers up. No barriers between stage and crowd—just that loose Mediterranean energy that says: this could go anywhere. And it did. First up, Al Dual didn’t so much play a set as demonstrate control. Every note was razor-sharp. Every lick steeped in the DNA of rockabilly and early American rock ‘n’ roll. This is a musician obsessed with authenticity—and it shows. His sound isn’t retro cosplay; it’s forensic reconstruction. Backed by a tight band, Dual carved through his set with swagger. There were moments where the crowd just stopped talking—really listening—as his guitar tone cut clean through the sea air. It felt less like a gig, more like a masterclass delivered at full volume. Then came Los Coronas, and everything shifted. If Al Dual was precision, Los Coronas were release. From the first reverb-drenched riff, the whole place lifted. Their brand of instrumental surf rock—equal parts spaghetti western, garage grit, and Mediterranean swagger—hit exactly right in the open air. It wasn’t just heard, it moved people. They’ve been doing this since the early ‘90s, and it shows—not in complacency, but in confidence. Every transition was seamless. Every track built momentum. And that trumpet? The secret weapon—cutting through the guitars like a sun flare. By halfway through the set, the crowd had stopped pretending this was a daytime show. It was a party. What makes the Pèrgola special is the absence of friction. No late-night fatigue. No overcrowded claustrophobia. Just a crowd that’s present, switched on, and fully engaged. People danced. People drifted. People locked into grooves and stayed there. Strangers clinked cups. Groups expanded. The line between audience and atmosphere disappeared. It’s that rare thing: a gig that feels both effortless and essential. By the time it wrapped, there was no dramatic finale—just that slow, satisfied dispersal into the afternoon light. Some stayed for another drink. Some drifted off into the city. Everyone carried a little of it with them. Because that’s the trick of Pèrgola. It doesn’t demand your whole day. It just quietly becomes the best part of it. And on this particular Saturday, with Al Dual slicing the air open and Los Coronas turning it into motion, it felt less like a concert— and more like Valencia doing exactly what it does best. For future event tickets and more information: La Pèrgola Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

There’s a moment, somewhere between the first warm beer and the last, desperate shout for “otra más,” when a festival stops being an event and turns into a shared hallucination. At Llos Festival, that moment arrived early—and refused to leave. By the time doors opened at 16:30 in Aielo de Malferit, there was already a low hum in the air. Not hype—something more grounded. Groups gathering, plastic cups clutched tight, that quiet understanding that this wasn’t going to be a casual night. This was endurance - this was immersion. By 17:00, Gargall kicked things into motion—no frills, no easing in—just straight into the kind of raw, DIY noise that defines Llos at its core. It felt local because it was local, and that mattered. No one here was playing a role. This was home turf. Kamikazes followed with exactly the kind of set their name promises—fast, loud, and just unhinged enough to tip the crowd from polite nodding into full-body movement. The pit opened early, and once it did, it never really closed. Then came Cactus, who delivered one of the first real turning points of the day. Tight, punchy, and sharper than expected, they locked the crowd in. Hooks landed. Heads stayed moving. The sun dipped lower. You could feel the shift happening. By the time Sons of Aguirre & Scila hit the stage at 21:20, Llos had fully transformed. Their set was incendiary—political, confrontational, and delivered with surgical intensity. Every line landed like a punch, every drop met with a surge from the crowd. It wasn’t just performance—it was provocation. And the audience didn’t just listen, they responded. Then came Malifeta, riding that wave with something looser, more chaotic, but no less powerful. If Sons of Aguirre & Scila sharpened the blade, Malifeta swung it wildly—and the crowd loved them for it. But the real detonation came just after midnight. When Narco took over at 00:40, subtlety left the building. Their set was pure industrial aggression—basslines like machinery, vocals spat rather than sung. It was heavy, relentless, and exactly what the night demanded. By this point, the crowd wasn’t pacing itself anymore. Shirts were off. Voices were gone. Everything was louder, faster, messier. And then something strange happened. Instead of burning out, the festival expanded. At 03:20, Reina Mora stepped into the strange, elastic space where exhaustion meets euphoria. Their set felt different—less brute force, more atmosphere—but it hit just as hard in its own way. People danced like they were running on instinct alone. Time had stopped behaving normally. Partly because it literally had—the clock shift pushed everything forward—but mostly because no one cared anymore. Closing duties fell to Santy Mataix at 04:15, dragging the last survivors through the final stretch with a set that blurred the line between DJ session and ritual. It wasn’t about peaks anymore—it was about release. Letting the night dissolve. What makes Llos different isn’t just the lineup—it’s the people. No VIP bubbles. No detached spectators. Just a crowd that commits fully, from the first note to the last. Strangers became allies quickly—sharing drinks, shouting lyrics, pulling each other up from the pit floor. There’s a sense of ownership here. Like this isn’t something you attend—it’s something you build together in real time. Set in an industrial zone, Llos leans hard into its environment. Concrete, metal, open space—it’s not picturesque, and that’s exactly the point. The sound hits harder here. The lights cut deeper. There’s nothing to soften the edges. It feels honest. Llos Festival doesn’t try to compete with the giants. It doesn’t need to. What it offers is something rarer: a fully lived experience. No filler, no downtime, no safe distance between artist and audience. Just twelve hours of escalating intensity that demands everything and gives it right back. By the time the music stopped and the first light crept in, there was no grand finale—just a slow, collective exhale. Ears ringing. Bodies wrecked. Something shared. And the quiet, certain feeling that you hadn’t just watched a festival — You’d survived one. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

There are concerts, and then there are experiences that feel closer to cinema, theatre, and pure sensory overload rolled into one. On March 26, 2026, at the Roig Arena, Hans Zimmer delivered exactly that—Hans Zimmer Live: The Next Level was not just a performance, but a monumental, three-hour journey through some of the most iconic film scores ever written. From the outset, the scale was staggering. The production—years in the making—arrived in Valencia as part of a major European tour, and it felt every bit like a flagship show. The arena itself, a cutting-edge venue capable of hosting up to 20,000 people for concerts , was transformed into a multi-layered sonic landscape. A vast stage stretched across three tiers, packed with musicians, percussionists, choir members, and soloists, creating a visual and auditory spectacle that bordered on the overwhelming. Zimmer himself—part rock star, part maestro—moved between piano, guitar, and keyboards with effortless authority. There’s a reason he’s often described as the defining composer of modern cinema: his music doesn’t just accompany stories, it defines them. And here, in a live setting, those compositions took on an even more visceral power. The setlist read like a greatest-hits reel of contemporary film history. Themes from Dune, The Dark Knight, Gladiator, Inception, The Lion King, and Pirates of the Caribbean unfolded one after another, each reimagined for the stage with expanded arrangements and dramatic pacing. Rather than simply recreating the original scores, Zimmer and his ensemble reshaped them—stretching moments, building tension, and allowing individual musicians to shine. And shine they did. From haunting vocal performances—most notably the spine-tingling delivery of Now We Are Free—to blistering electric guitar solos and delicate cello passages, the musicianship on display was extraordinary. The interplay between classical orchestration and modern electronic textures—what Zimmer has long mastered—felt even more pronounced live, a fusion of past and future that kept the audience locked in. Visually, the show matched the music’s ambition. Towering LED screens, shifting lightscapes, and carefully choreographed staging created a fully immersive environment. At one point, a suspended aerial performer added a surreal, almost dreamlike dimension—just one of many moments where the show blurred the line between concert and spectacle. But what truly set the night apart was its emotional scope. Zimmer’s music has always thrived on scale—on evoking heroism, loss, tension, and triumph—and in the live setting, those emotions were magnified. The quieter moments carried a surprising intimacy, while the crescendos hit with almost physical force. It was the kind of performance that doesn’t just entertain—it engulfs. The Valencia crowd, fully aware they were witnessing something special, responded accordingly. From hushed reverence during the more delicate passages to thunderous applause at every peak, the atmosphere never dipped. By the time Zimmer closed the show—reportedly with the hypnotic strains of Time from Inception—the arena felt collectively transformed. What The Next Level ultimately proves is that Hans Zimmer has transcended the traditional role of composer. He is, in every sense, a live phenomenon—someone capable of turning film music into a shared, almost spiritual experience. This wasn’t just a concert at Roig Arena; it was a reminder of how powerful music can be when ambition, technology, and artistry collide at full force. Valencia didn’t just host Hans Zimmer that night—it was swept up in his world, and for a few unforgettable hours, nothing else seemed to exist.

On May 7th, something quietly legendary is set to unfold in Valencia—a night where indie history, underground spirit, and present-day urgency collide under one low ceiling. At Loco Club, one of the city’s most beloved live venues, Heavenly arrive as part of their 2026 world tour, joined by local dream-pop voyagers Cápsula de Sueños—a pairing that feels less like a support slot and more like a carefully curated conversation across generations. To understand why this matters, you have to go back. Formed in the early ’90s, Heavenly weren’t just another indie band—they were architects of a sound. Call it twee, call it jangle, call it indiepop before the word became algorithm-friendly. Their music fused razor-sharp political awareness with melodies so sweet they could disarm you mid-chorus. Now, decades later, they return not as a nostalgia act, but as a band with something new to say. Their upcoming album Highway to Heavenly promises a continuation of that original DNA: defiantly independent, joyfully melodic, and still quietly radical. And here’s the kicker—this marks their first time back in Valencia in nearly three decades. That alone makes this gig essential. Before Heavenly take the stage, Cápsula de Sueños step in to set the tone—and if you’ve been paying attention to the Valencia underground, you’ll know this isn’t filler. Their sound leans into hazy textures, shimmering guitars, and that fragile, late-night emotional pull that sits somewhere between shoegaze and dream pop. They don’t so much warm up a room as recalibrate it—turning the noise down just enough for something more intimate to emerge. Expect atmosphere. Expect slow burns. Expect that moment where the crowd collectively leans in. There’s a reason nights like this land at Loco Club. Tucked away just off the city’s main arteries, it’s a venue built for connection—close enough to feel every chord, every lyric, every shift in energy. A space that has hosted everything from cult legends to future icons, and still manages to feel like a secret. Doors open at 20:00, with Cápsula de Sueños kicking things off shortly after, and Heavenly taking over later in the evening. In a city overflowing with live music, it’s easy to get selective. To wait for the “big” show. The obvious one. This isn’t that. This is something better. This is a night where past and present blur, where indiepop’s roots meet its future, where melody and meaning share the same stage. A night that won’t shout for your attention—but will absolutely reward it. And if you’re lucky, somewhere between the first shimmering chord and the final chorus, you’ll realise you’re not just watching a gig. You’re inside a lineage. For tickets and more information: Loco Club

Pop royalty is coming to Valencia—and not just for any show. On July 23, Pet Shop Boys will take over the spectacular Roig Arena with their globally acclaimed Dreamworld: The Greatest Hits Live tour, marking their first Spanish concert of 2026—and one of only two dates in the country. This isn’t just another tour stop. It’s a full-scale celebration of 40 years of pop innovation, chart dominance, and cultural influence from one of the most successful duos in music history. With Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe at the helm, Pet Shop Boys have spent decades redefining what pop can be—blending electronic soundscapes with sharp lyricism, theatrical flair, and an unmistakable sense of style. Expect a hit-packed setlist that reads like a greatest hits masterclass. From era-defining anthems to euphoric dancefloor staples, Dreamworld is designed as a non-stop journey through their vast catalogue—22 UK Top 10 singles, four number ones, and countless global classics. This is pop music with both brains and heart, delivered on a scale that matches its legacy. But what truly sets Pet Shop Boys apart live is their vision. Their shows are not just concerts—they’re pop as performance art. Over the years, they’ve collaborated with groundbreaking creatives like Derek Jarman and Zaha Hadid, crafting a live experience that fuses music, design, and theatre into something immersive and unforgettable. Expect bold visuals, striking staging, and a sense of spectacle that elevates every beat. The Valencia date also carries added weight. It marks their long-awaited return to the city after nearly two decades, and with the state-of-the-art Roig Arena as the backdrop—capable of hosting up to 20,000 fans—it promises to be one of the standout nights of the summer. Tickets are set to move fast. Pre-sale access opens on March 26 via the Roig Arena website, with general sale following on March 27. If the rave reviews from across Europe are anything to go by—“ecstatic,” “euphoric,” “absolutely radiant”—this is a show you don’t want to miss. On July 23, Valencia won’t just host a concert—it will witness a living piece of pop history, still evolving, still electrifying, and still setting the standard.

Pop spectacle, global fandom, and unapologetic hooks are set to collide in Valencia this spring, as 5 Seconds of Summer bring their Everyone’s A Star! World Tour to town for what promises to be one of the most high-energy nights of 2026. On May 1, the band will take over the impressive Roig Arena, a venue fast becoming the city’s premier destination for large-scale live music events. It’s the perfect stage for a group that has evolved from teenage pop-punk upstarts into a fully-fledged arena powerhouse, capable of commanding massive crowds without losing their emotional core. Since their early days of viral covers and breakout hits, 5 Seconds of Summer—Luke Hemmings, Michael Clifford, Calum Hood and Ashton Irwin—have steadily expanded their sound. What began as punchy, guitar-driven pop has grown into something broader and more ambitious, blending glossy production with introspective songwriting and a willingness to push beyond genre boundaries. That evolution has only strengthened their live show, transforming it into a dynamic mix of anthemic highs and more intimate, reflective moments. The Everyone’s A Star! tour feels like a celebration of that journey. Fans can expect a setlist that spans their entire career, from early crowd-pleasers that still ignite instant singalongs to newer material that showcases a band unafraid to mature in public. It’s this balance—nostalgia paired with forward motion—that keeps their performances feeling fresh rather than retrospective. Visually, the tour is shaping up to be a full-scale production. The poster’s bold, playful imagery hints at a show that embraces colour, personality, and a sense of fun, while still delivering the kind of polished staging expected from a global act. Think immersive lighting, larger-than-life visuals, and a stage presence designed to pull every corner of the arena into the experience. But beyond the production, it’s the connection with the audience that remains the band’s greatest strength. Few acts of their generation have maintained such a loyal and passionate fanbase, and nights like this tend to feel less like concerts and more like shared celebrations. Every lyric shouted back, every chorus lifted by thousands of voices, becomes part of something collective. Valencia, with its ever-growing reputation as a must-stop city for international tours, is the ideal setting. The Roig Arena’s scale ensures the spectacle will land, but the city’s famously engaged crowd guarantees the atmosphere will be just as important as the visuals. As the Everyone’s A Star! World Tour rolls into Spain, May 1 stands out as a date that could define the season. For longtime fans, it’s a chance to reconnect with a band that’s grown up alongside them. For newcomers, it’s an opportunity to see why 5 Seconds of Summer continue to fill arenas across the globe. One thing is certain: when the lights go down in Roig Arena, Valencia won’t just be watching the show—it’ll be part of it. For tickets and more information: Roig Arena

There’s something quietly enduring about Teenage Fanclub. While trends rise and fall, the Glasgow legends have continued to refine their signature blend of sunlit melodies, jangling guitars, and deeply human songwriting. Now, with their newly announced 2026 Spanish tour, they return not as a nostalgia act—but as a band still writing their story in real time. Spanning cities from Andalucía to the north coast, the tour reads like a love letter to Spain’s live music circuit: San Fernando, Sevilla, Granada, Murcia, Santiago, Oviedo, Bilbao, Zaragoza, Pamplona, Madrid—and, crucially, a highly anticipated stop in Valencia on October 16. That night, the band will take over Sala Moon, one of the city’s most atmospheric mid-sized venues. It’s a fitting setting. Unlike cavernous arenas, Sala Moon thrives on intimacy—every chord, every harmony, every subtle shift in tone lands with clarity. And for a band like Teenage Fanclub, whose music lives in the details, that closeness matters. Expect a set that draws from across their rich catalogue. From the golden glow of Bandwagonesque -era classics to the more reflective textures of their later work, their songs carry a rare emotional weight—never overblown, always sincere. Their sound, built on interwoven guitars and effortless vocal harmonies, feels as fresh now as it did in their early days, but tempered by years of lived experience. What makes this Valencia date particularly exciting is the connection between band and city. Valencia audiences are famously receptive—attentive without being passive, enthusiastic without losing nuance. It’s the kind of crowd that understands the quiet power of a perfectly constructed melody, and that knows when to let a song breathe. Live, Teenage Fanclub don’t rely on spectacle. There are no distractions, no unnecessary flourishes—just musicians locked into a groove, letting the songs do the work. That restraint is precisely what makes their performances so compelling. It’s music that invites you in rather than overwhelms you. As part of a tightly packed run of dates—including stops at Madrid’s Wagon and Barcelona’s Razzmatazz 2—the Valencia show sits right in the heart of the tour. By this point, the band will be fully in stride, road-tested and finely tuned, which only adds to the sense that this could be one of the standout nights of the entire run. For fans old and new, October 16 at Sala Moon isn’t just another gig—it’s an opportunity to experience one of indie rock’s most consistent and quietly influential bands in a setting that suits them perfectly. In a world that often chases the next big thing, Teenage Fanclub remind us of the beauty in longevity, craft, and songs that stay with you long after the final chord fades. For tickets and more information: Houston Party Music

There are gigs that feel like concerts, and then there are nights that feel like a statement. Last night at the gleaming Roig Arena, Suede delivered the latter—an electrifying, career-spanning performance that proved, beyond any doubt, that they remain one of the most vital and emotionally charged live bands on the planet. From the moment the lights dipped and the first wave of anticipation rippled across the sold-out arena, there was a sense that this wasn’t going to be a nostalgia trip. When Brett Anderson strode onstage—lean, kinetic, and already feeding off the crowd’s energy—it was clear we were in the presence of a frontman who refuses to age in spirit. If anything, Anderson seems more committed than ever, hurling himself into every lyric with a rawness that made even the biggest venue feel intimate. Opening with a punchy, high-octane number, the band wasted no time in locking into that unmistakable Suede sound: razor-edged guitars, swooning melodies, and a rhythm section that pulses with urgency. Richard Oakes and Neil Codling layered shimmering textures over thunderous foundations laid down by Mat Osman and Simon Gilbert—a unit so tight they feel almost telepathic. The setlist struck a perfect balance between classic anthems and newer material, reminding everyone just how deep Suede’s catalogue runs. Early-era tracks still hit with ferocious intensity, sparking mass singalongs that echoed around the vast interior of the arena, while songs from their later records carried a darker, more reflective edge—proof of a band that has evolved without losing its core identity. Visually, the show was striking without ever overshadowing the music. Stark lighting and shadowy projections framed the band in a way that amplified the emotional drama of each song. At times, Anderson seemed almost possessed—clambering onto monitors, leaning into the front rows, conducting the crowd like a man determined to pull every last drop of feeling from the room. And the crowd responded in kind. Valencia has always had a deep appreciation for live music, but this felt different—more intense, more unified. Thousands of voices rose together during the band’s most beloved tracks, creating moments that felt genuinely communal rather than performative. One of the night’s standout moments came midway through the set, when the band dialled things back. In those quieter passages, Anderson’s voice—still rich, still aching—cut through with astonishing clarity. It was a reminder that beneath the swagger and spectacle lies songwriting of real substance, rooted in vulnerability and poetic observation. As the show built toward its finale, the energy only intensified. By the time the closing songs arrived, the arena was in full, euphoric release—hands in the air, voices hoarse, bodies moving as one. It’s a rare thing to see a band command a space this large without losing emotional connection, but Suede managed it effortlessly. What makes nights like this so powerful is not just the music, but the sense of continuity. Decades into their career, Suede are not coasting on past glories—they are actively reinforcing them, reshaping them, and injecting them with fresh urgency. This wasn’t a band revisiting who they were; it was a band reaffirming who they still a re. In a city that has seen its fair share of unforgettable shows, this performance at Roig Arena will stand as one of the defining gigs of the year. Suede didn’t just play Valencia—they owned it, transformed it, and left it buzzing long after the final note had faded. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

There are gigs, and then there are nights where reality gets chewed up, spat out, and replaced with sweat, glitter, cheap beer, and something dangerously close to transcendence. What went down at 16 Toneladas with Pink Socks and Orkesta Paraíso was very much the latter. Pink Socks didn’t so much start the night as kick the door off its hinges. No polite warm-up, no easing in—just a blast of scrappy, neon-streaked punk energy that felt like someone had shaken a crate of influences (garage rock, indie sleaze, drunk karaoke confidence) and hurled it directly at the front row. They played like a band with nothing to lose and everything to prove, which is exactly where the magic lives. There was something gloriously unhinged about it—vocals teetering between control and collapse, guitars slashing through the room like broken glass, rhythms that felt like they might fall apart but never quite did. The crowd, initially hovering in that cautious pre-headliner stance, quickly abandoned all dignity. By the third song, the floor was moving. By the fifth, it was a mess of limbs, laughter, and beer sloshing dangerously close to electrical equipment. Pink Socks didn’t just warm up the room—they rewired it. And then, just when you thought things couldn’t escalate further, Orkesta Paraíso arrived like a technicolour fever dream. Described—accurately—as “five showmen in full flight,” the band have built a reputation for turning gigs into full-blown spectacles, blending punk rock and rock urbano with theatrical absurdity. That description barely scratches the surface. Masked, costumed, somewhere between lucha libre and end-of-the-world cabaret, they didn’t take the stage so much as detonate on it. From the first chord, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a gig you watch—it was one you survive. Musically, Orkesta Paraíso deal in high-octane reinterpretations—punk classics, rock urbano staples, the kind of songs that already carry a built-in sense of rebellion. But live, those songs become something else entirely. They stretch, mutate, explode. A familiar riff suddenly becomes a chant. A chorus becomes a mass singalong. A breakdown becomes an excuse for half the crowd to end up on stage (invited or otherwise). At one point, it felt less like a concert and more like a riot being choreographed in real time. If Orkesta Paraíso are the spark, the crowd is the accelerant. This wasn’t passive consumption—it was participation. Arms around strangers, voices shredded from shouting lyrics, bodies colliding in that beautiful, unspoken agreement that this is what we’re here for. The line between band and audience dissolved early and never came back. Someone lost a shoe. Someone else found religion. There’s something about 16 Toneladas that makes nights like this feel inevitable. Low ceiling, sweatbox acoustics, just enough space to be dangerous—it’s a room built for friction. And friction is exactly what this night thrived on. By the time Orkesta Paraíso hit their final stretch, the place felt like it might lift off entirely—equal parts gig, party, and controlled demolition. Pink Socks lit the fuse. Orkesta Paraíso blew the roof off. What you got in return was something messy, loud, chaotic, and completely alive—a reminder that live music, at its best, isn’t about precision or perfection. It’s about losing yourself somewhere between the first chord and the last scream. And on this particular night in Valencia, nobody left with themselves fully intact. Which is exactly how it should be. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

There’s something slightly surreal about live music at midday—sun high, beers cold, breeze rolling in—and yet somehow things are about to get loud. That’s the magic of the Concerts de La Pèrgola: a daytime ritual where Valencia swaps hangovers for guitars and heads straight to the coast. On March 28, the formula hits peak cool. At La Pérgola de La Marina, right on the edge of the Mediterranean, this isn’t just a gig—it’s a sunlit collision of vintage rock ’n’ roll swagger and reverb-drenched surf. Doors swing open late morning, the crowd drifts in with vermouth energy, and by 12:00 the amps are already humming. Al Dual steps up first—not just a musician, but a full-blown time traveller. His obsession with 50s and 60s American sound isn’t cosplay—it’s precision. Twanging guitars, rockabilly swing, and that unmistakable vintage tone pulled straight from the DNA of early electric music. The guy doesn’t play retro—he lives in it. And just when you’re fully locked into that groove, the tide shifts. Enter Los Coronas—Spain’s undisputed kings of instrumental surf rock. No vocals, no distractions—just shimmering guitars, cinematic energy and waves of sound that feel like a Spaghetti Western crashing into a beach party. Active since the early 90s, they’ve built a reputation for turning any stage into a rolling, sunburnt, instrumental riot. Together, it’s a double bill that makes ridiculous sense: rockabilly roots meeting surf-soaked escape. Grit meets glide. Dust meets saltwater. But this is bigger than just two bands. The whole Concerts de La Pèrgola series has quietly become one of the most essential cultural rituals in Valencia—Saturday mornings reimagined as communal, open-air celebrations of sound, food and sunlight. So expect a crowd that’s equal parts die-hard music heads, curious wanderers and people who just came for “one drink” and accidentally stayed all day. Expect dancing before lunch. Expect that golden-hour glow arriving way earlier than it should. Because this isn’t a late-night crawl.It ’s a daytime escape. And for a few hours by the sea, nothing else exists but guitars, sunshine and the slow, perfect burn of a Valencian Saturday done right. For more information and tickets: La Pèrgola

Set against the lush, sun-drenched beauty of the Jardín Botánico de Cullera, Músiques i Art al Botànic once again proved that live music hits differently when it’s wrapped in nature, good food, and a crowd that actually wants to be there. This isn’t just another concert series—it’s a full-sensory Mediterranean experience, where art, music and community blur into one long, golden afternoon. From the moment the first notes cut through the warm air, it was clear this was going to be one of those special days. A big, buzzing crowd packed the gardens—families, music heads, curious wanderers—all pulled together by the promise of live sound in a setting that feels miles away from the everyday. The atmosphere wasn’t just lively, it was electric, the kind that builds slowly and then suddenly erupts into something unforgettable. At the heart of it all, Nasty Boogie delivered a set that perfectly matched the surroundings—loose, soulful, and alive. Their groove-heavy blend of blues, boogie and rhythm & blues rolled effortlessly through the gardens, locking into rhythms that felt tailor-made for open skies and swaying trees. Every note carried, every riff landed, and the audience gave it straight back, turning the whole space into a shared pulse. Then came a standout moment: a guest appearance from Maria Carbonell, who stepped in and elevated the set even further. Her presence added a fresh dynamic—her voice weaving through the band’s sound with ease, lifting key songs into something richer, fuller, and genuinely memorable. It wasn’t just a cameo; it felt like a collaboration that belonged to the moment. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better, the music gave way to one of the event’s most beloved traditions: the legendary paella party. Completely sold out (no surprise there), it turned the post-show glow into a full-on celebration. Plates piled high, conversations flowing, and that unmistakable feeling of a community coming together over food, music and shared experience. It’s this blend—live performance followed by communal feast—that defines Músiques i Art al Botànic as something far deeper than a gig. Because that’s the real magic here. It’s not just about what happens on stage—it’s about everything around it. The setting, the crowd, the music, the food. All of it combining into a day that feels effortless, authentic and completely alive. In a world of overproduced events and rushed schedules, this is something rarer: a reminder that sometimes the best afternoons are the ones where you slow down, look around, and realise you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

On March 21, Loco Club played host to one of the most quietly powerful and emotionally resonant nights the city has seen in recent months, as the Chicas Fuertes Tour rolled into town. Bringing together Aurora Beltrán and Nat Simons, the show wasn’t just a concert—it was a statement of intent, a celebration of legacy and evolution, and a vivid reminder of the enduring force of women in Spanish rock. At its core, the Chicas Fuertes Tour is a rare kind of double bill. Rather than splitting time or softening edges for cohesion, both artists deliver full, uncompromising sets of their own material, before joining forces in a shared finale. It’s a format that feels generous and ambitious, offering the audience two complete artistic worlds in a single night. This structure speaks volumes about the ethos behind the tour: collaboration over competition, celebration over hierarchy. There is no headliner here—only mutual respect between two artists from different generations who have each carved their own path through Spain’s rock landscape. Opening the night was Aurora Beltrán, a figure whose influence on Spanish rock is impossible to overstate. Best known as the voice of Tahúres Zurdos, Beltrán brings decades of experience—and an enviable catalogue—to the stage. Her set unfolded as both a retrospective and a reaffirmation. Classic songs were delivered with the authority of someone who has lived them, while selections from her solo career added depth and introspection. There’s no need for theatrics here—Beltrán commands attention through sheer authenticity. Her voice, still rich with character, carries the weight of history without ever feeling burdened by it. Opening the evening, she set a tone of emotional honesty and quiet strength, drawing the audience in early and holding them there. In a venue as intimate as Loco Club, every lyric felt magnified, every note deliberate. It was a masterclass in presence—subtle, grounded, and deeply affecting. Taking the stage second, Nat Simons built on that foundation and pushed the night into a more expansive, electrified space. A figure who has steadily carved out a reputation as one of the most compelling voices in contemporary Spanish rock, Simons blends Americana, indie, and classic rock influences into something distinctly her own. Live, that translates into a set that balances vulnerability with defiance. Songs like “Lights” and “Felinas” landed with emotional precision, while newer material hinted at an artist still evolving, still hungry. Backed by a tight, road-tested band, her performance carried a sense of forward motion—an artist not just honouring tradition, but actively reshaping it. Where Beltrán drew the audience inward, Simons expanded the room outward, lifting the energy without losing any of the emotional weight established earlier in the night. It was a perfectly judged progression. Much of the night’s success can be attributed to the setting. Loco Club has long been one of the city’s most respected live music venues, known for its exceptional sound and close artist-audience connection. This was exactly the kind of show the venue was built for. There’s nowhere to hide in a room like this—no distance between performer and audience, no dilution of energy. Every guitar note cut cleanly through the air, every vocal nuance landed with clarity. The crowd, attentive and engaged from start to finish, became an active participant rather than a passive observer. While both individual sets were strong enough to stand alone, it was the collaborative moments that elevated the evening into something truly special. When Aurora Beltrán and Nat Simons shared the stage, the generational divide dissolved, replaced by a shared language of rock and roll. These moments felt spontaneous, celebratory, and deeply human—less like a rehearsed encore and more like a genuine meeting of musical minds. It’s here that the spirit of Chicas Fuertes became fully realised: not just strength as an individual trait, but as something amplified through unity. What made this Valencia stop so compelling was its sense of purpose. This wasn’t nostalgia, nor simply a showcase of contemporary talent. It was a dialogue between past and present—a recognition of the groundwork laid by artists like Beltrán and the new paths being forged by voices like Simons. In a musical landscape often driven by trends and fleeting moments, Chicas Fuertes Tour felt grounded, intentional, and refreshingly sincere. It celebrated not just women in rock, but the enduring power of authenticity, collaboration, and artistic conviction. By the time the final notes rang out inside Loco Club, there was a palpable sense that something meaningful had taken place. Not just a great gig—but a reminder of why live music matters in the first place. For more information: Nat Simons