It’s New Year’s Eve. The calendar is bleeding out its final seconds, fireworks are misfiring in the distance, and the nation is pretending—once again—that next year will be calmer, cleaner, more reasonable. That illusion has exactly ONE MONTH LEFT TO LIVE. Because on Saturday 31 January 2026, the Plaza de Toros Cubierta de Villena will be hijacked by a travelling gang of sonic arsonists known as FCK CNSRSHP, and the lineup is now locked, loaded and officially dangerous. No rumours. No maybes. No polite indie filler. This is the real list, written in sweat and court summons: Narco – Andalusian agit-rap lunatics, weaponising satire like a Molotov cocktail with a sense of humour. Koma – Groove-metal rage merchants, dragging heaviness through the dirt and daring it to fight back. Porretas – Barrio rock lifers, still drunk on riffs, honesty and the kind of truth you only hear after midnight. Kaos Urbano – Oi! street discipline and working-class fury, boots laced tight and aimed straight at the system. Envidia Kotxina – Ska-punk bile and bounce, turning bitterness into movement and sarcasm into cardio. Loncho Velasco – Urban punk storyteller, spitting verses like confessions ripped from a police report. Kaotiko – Punk rock veterans with choruses built for mass shouting and beers thrown skyward. Segismundo Toxicómano – Colombian hardcore royalty, raw, relentless and allergic to silence. Villena in January is cold, hard and perfect for bad ideas. The covered bullring becomes a sealed chamber of distortion, where sound has nowhere to escape and every chant comes back twice as angry. No sunshine clichés. No corporate nonsense. Just bodies, noise, and a shared understanding that music is still a weapon if you swing it hard enough. While the rest of Spain raises glasses to “new beginnings,” FCK CNSRSHP raises the volume and laughs. This festival exists because someone, somewhere, keeps trying to tell artists what they can and can’t say — and these bands have made entire careers out of replying with feedback and profanity. This is punk.This is rap.This is hardcore.This is rock without permission. So here we are: 31 December. The last night of the year. One month before Villena turns into a pressure cooker of sweat, slogans and blown vocal cords. If your New Year’s resolution involves safety, silence or subtlety — burn it now. If it involves shouting until something finally gives,FCK CNSRSHP is already counting you in. 31 January. Villena. One month to go.No filters. No forgiveness. No fucking censorship. For tickets and more information: FCK CNSRSHP

Canadian-born and now rising as one of pop’s most compelling new artists, Tori Lord makes a striking entrance with her debut single “Never Be.” Released on October 10, 2025, this track introduces listeners to an artist who is at once emotionally raw, musically refined, and unafraid to explore heartbreak with clarity and courage. A Story Told Through Sound“Never Be” captures that familiar yet painful moment when you realize a relationship wasn’t ever going to last — not because someone did something wrong, but because the truth finally came into focus. There’s a sincere vulnerability in the lyrics and delivery that elevates the song beyond a typical breakup ballad, embracing both acceptance and self-reflection with grace. Tori Lord: A Background Built on ArtistryAccording to Tori’s official bio, her journey started long before this single dropped. She grew up performing lead roles in national theatre productions in Toronto and sang with Canada’s top youth choirs. Early on, she even shared the stage with Celine Dion during the Let’s Talk About Love tour — an experience that helped shape her command of vocal expression. What makes Lord’s story especially intriguing is how she blends this rich musical foundation with smart modern pop instincts. Collaborating with acclaimed producer Marty Martino and songwriter Theo Tams, and guided by mentor Rob Wells, she integrates her choral roots and love of harmony into sleek, piano-driven pop that feels both timeless and contemporary. The “Never Be” music video extends the song’s emotional depth into cinematic visuals. The piece pairs intimate performance moments with evocative imagery that mirrors the song’s emotional duality — moving between moments of clarity and lingering wistfulness, much like the journey of letting go itself. Tori Lord’s debut isn’t just a song — it’s a statement. From lyrical honesty to rich harmonic textures and heartfelt delivery, “Never Be” marks her as a voice worth following. It’s a song for anyone who’s ever opened their heart and learned something transformative in the process. Watch the official video here: YouTube For more information: Tori Lord

Blaze Bayley doesn’t tour so much as invade. And in January 2026, Spain is once again in the crosshairs. The former Iron Maiden frontman, cult metal hero and one of heavy music’s great survivors is bringing his Spain 2026 tour to Valencia, Barcelona, Vitoria, Gijón, Valladolid and Guadalajara — a run of intimate, sweat-soaked club shows that promise zero nostalgia-by-numbers and maximum volume, heart and defiance. Expect a set built around Silicon Messiah, choice cuts from the Iron Maiden era, and the unkillable spirit of a man who has made resilience an art form.This isn’t a legacy lap. This is Blaze Bayley doing what he has always done best: standing his ground. Born Bayley Alexander Cooke in Birmingham and raised in Wolverhampton, Blaze Bayley came up the hard way — cutting his teeth in the UK metal underground with Wolfsbane, a band whose snarling energy and street-level grit earned them a rabid following in the late ’80s and early ’90s. When Iron Maiden came calling in 1994, after the departure of Bruce Dickinson, Bayley stepped into one of the most unforgiving roles in rock history. What followed was one of heavy metal’s most debated chapters. During his tenure with Maiden, Bayley recorded The X Factor (1995) and Virtual XI (1998), albums that dared to explore darker, more introspective territory. Time has been kind to those records — once misunderstood, now reappraised as bold, emotionally raw entries in the Maiden canon. Songs like Sign of the Cross, Man on the Edge and Futureal still hit with ferocity, especially live, where Blaze’s voice carries a grainy, human power entirely its own. After leaving Iron Maiden in 1999, many expected Blaze Bayley to fade into footnote status. Instead, he doubled down. His 2000 solo debut Silicon Messiah was a declaration of independence — sharp, melodic, defiant heavy metal that proved Bayley wasn’t just surviving post-Maiden, he was thriving. Tracks like Ghost in the Machine and Stare at the Sunbecame instant fan favourites, laying the foundation for a solo career defined by honesty, grit and relentless touring. Over the next two decades, Bayley released a formidable body of work, including the acclaimed Infinite Entanglementtrilogy, which fused sci-fi concepts with deeply personal storytelling. It’s rare to find an artist whose lyrics feel both cosmic and painfully grounded — Blaze manages both, often within the same song. What truly cements Blaze Bayley’s legend isn’t just the music — it’s the fight. He has weathered career upheaval, financial collapse, a near-fatal heart attack in 2016, and the kind of industry indifference that would have ended lesser artists. Instead, Blaze rebuilt everything from the ground up, reconnecting directly with fans, touring constantly, and turning every show into a communal act of defiance. There’s no rock-star detachment here. Blaze Bayley meets his audience eye to eye — signing merch, sharing stories, and delivering performances that feel earned, not inherited. This January run through Spain is exactly where Blaze thrives: rock clubs, close quarters, no safety net. With Baja California confirmed as special guests on several dates, the tour promises high-octane nights fueled by sweat, riffs and the shared understanding that heavy metal is at its best when it’s real. These shows won’t be about rewriting history. They’ll be about owning it. Blaze Bayley doesn’t need to prove anything anymore — but every night on stage, he does it anyway. Spain, prepare yourselves. The Messiah is silicon, the Maiden still flies, and the fire is very much alive. For tickets and more information: Blaze Bayley

By the time December 30 crawls out of the calendar like a wounded animal, Valencia will be knee-deep in forced cheer, plastic smiles and people pretending they’re ready for a “fresh start.” This is when Orkesta Paraíso strike — masked, lawless and vibrating at a frequency just shy of public endangerment — turning 16 Toneladas into a psychedelic punk asylum where dignity is the first casualty.This is not a band - this is a hallucination with amplifiers. Five men clad in masks tear into the sacred texts of La Polla Records, Kortatu, Barricada and Piperrak, not as tribute but as armed robbery. These songs are dragged screaming back onto the street, beaten into shape and launched at the crowd like Molotov cocktails of nostalgia, rage and joy. It’s punk rock reimagined as a deranged street carnival, where irony, sincerity and chaos drink from the same bottle and nobody checks the label. There is no fourth wall here. Orkesta Paraíso don’t perform at you — they absorb you, chew you up and spit you back into the pit, reborn, sweating and slightly confused about what year it is. The masks aren’t costumes; they’re a warning. Then comes Sin Propina, the calm before the next emotional storm — though “calm” is a dangerous word. Fronted by Aris, formerly of Transfer, this is rock with scars, memory and intent. Where Orkesta Paraíso deal in glorious excess, Sin Propina hit with something sharper: songs that remember what it felt like to believe rock music could save you from the world, or at least explain why it keeps kicking your teeth in. Together, this double bill isn’t entertainment — it’s a year-end reckoning. And 16 Toneladas? The perfect crime scene. A venue that understands rock’n’roll should be physical, uncomfortable and faintly unhinged. By the end of the night the floor will be sticky, the air unbreathable, and everyone inside will swear — hand on heart — that something important just happened, even if they can’t fully remember what. This is not a gig for tourists.This is not a night for resolutions.This is a last blast of honesty before the clock resets. Bring earplugs, bring friends, bring poor judgement.Leave your sanity at the door. For tickets and more information: 16 Toneladas

Some gigs feel planned.Some feel important.And then there are nights at 16 Toneladas where the ceiling sweats, the floor vibrates like it’s had three espressos and a bad idea, and you realise nobody involved has any intention of behaving. This was one of those nights. Pink Socks went on first, which felt generous of them, because by the end of their set the room was already halfway to needing structural reinforcement and a written apology. They opened like they’d just fallen out of a WhatsApp argument and decided to settle it with volume. No easing in, no foreplay — just straight into it, blasting through a set that felt less like a concert and more like a pirate radio broadcast hijacked by idiots with guitars. Titles flew past like threats scribbled on bathroom walls:“Fuck Ambiguos”, “Cayetano de la Calle Borroka”, “Parkour en Magaluf”, “Puta Real Madrid”.Each one landed like a punchline and a provocation at the same time. Pink Socks don’t sing songs so much as lob ideas at your head and see which ones stick. There were fake intros, real intros, intros to the intros. Shout-outs that went nowhere. Jokes that shouldn’t have worked but absolutely did. Somewhere between “Mis Primeros Influencers” and “Tips Para Grupo de Punk”, the band fully weaponised stupidity and turned it into a working philosophy. It was fast, loud, knowingly dumb and weirdly smart about it. Punk as satire. Hardcore as meme culture. The kind of set where you laugh, then realise your ears are bleeding, then laugh again because you deserve it. By the time they wrapped up with “Skinhead por Obligación” and “Rita”, the room was primed, cooked and lightly traumatised. Perfect conditions Then Strawberry Hardcore came on and decided to burn the building down emotionally. If Pink Socks were the chaotic warm-up act throwing lit matches around, Strawberry Hardcore were the accelerant. No messing about. No irony breaks. Just straight-ahead, clenched-teeth, no-exit hardcore delivered with the urgency of people who genuinely believe standing still is dangerous. Their setlist read like a life résumé written in permanent marker:“La Gran Comedia”, “Cerveza y Pecado”, “Punk Forever”, “Todos Vamos a Morir” — no metaphors, no apologies, just statements of fact screamed into a room that already knew. There was something beautifully direct about it. No posing, no speeches. Songs ripped through one after another, each one shorter than your patience and twice as angry. “Huyendo Hacia Adelante” felt less like a song title and more like the night’s mission statement. By the time they hit “Perdido en Silent Hill” and “Me Suicidé Hace Años”, the crowd was a single organism: heads down, fists up, brains switched off in the healthiest possible way. This wasn’t nostalgia hardcore — this was still-bothered, still-moving, still-hitting-you-in-the-chest hardcore. Closing with “Mártires del Rock” felt right. Not in a heroic sense, more in the “we’re all still here, somehow” sense. Bruised, smiling, ears ringing, ready to do it all again tomorrow. This wasn’t a polished night.It wasn’t pretty.It definitely wasn’t safe. But it was alive! Pink Socks turned punk into absurdist theatre, turning jokes into weapons and chaos into a setlist. Strawberry Hardcore followed by reminding everyone why hardcore exists in the first place: because sometimes shouting is the most honest thing you can do. Two bands. Two approaches. One perfect mess of a night at 16 Toneladas that left the room louder, sweatier and slightly less sane than it started. Exactly as it should be.......

There’s something quietly unhinged — and deeply lovable — about a Christmas song that arrives not with sleigh bells and syrup, but with punk rock muscle memory and a calypso grin. Santa’s Naughty List, the comeback track from Neon Animal, does exactly that: it sways where it should snarl, smiles where it could sneer, and ends up sounding like a sunburnt postcard sent from a bar at the edge of punk history. The story behind the track is as punk as it gets. Following a relentless run of touring the USA and Spain as the current frontman of legendary Cleveland punks Dead Boys, Mark Thorn was forced into an unexpected pause when original Dead Boys guitarist Cheetah Chrome literally broke his arm. That pause coincided with the Dead Boys’ early Christmas release (It’s Gonna Be A) Punk Rock Christmas, a Cleopatra Records drop featuring a murderers’ row of punk royalty — Clem Burke (Blondie), Glen Matlock (Sex Pistols) and Thorn himself handling lead vocals. After reuniting for the first time in two years with fellow Neon Animal founder and bassist Jonathan Gaglione, Thorn channeled that festive restlessness into Santa’s Naughty List — a song that feels less like a novelty and more like a sideways reinvention of what a holiday track can be when written by people who’ve lived inside loud guitars for decades. Musically, Santa’s Naughty List is a left turn that somehow makes perfect sense. Built on contagious choruses, buoyant rhythms and steel drums courtesy of guest Ruthie Cerny, the track leans into paradisiac calypso vibes without losing its punk backbone. There’s warmth here, but it’s the warmth of a beer-soaked beach bar rather than a fireplace. The rhythm section — Gaglione on bass and Iv K. Lizz on drums — keeps things loose and propulsive, while Thorn’s guitar work proves he knows exactly when not to overplay. Vocally, Thorn sounds liberated. There’s no need to channel the raw snarl of the Dead Boys here; instead, he delivers a performance that’s playful, melodic and knowingly mischievous — like someone who understands that growing older in punk doesn’t mean growing dull. For those who’ve followed Neon Animal, this curveball makes sense. The band has always existed slightly out of step with expectations — punk-rooted but stylistically curious, built on chemistry rather than conformity. Thorn and Gaglione’s songwriting partnership has never been about repeating past glories; it’s about movement, instinct and refusing to calcify. Santa’s Naughty List doesn’t sound like a band chasing relevance. It sounds like musicians who’ve earned the right to have fun on their own terms — and who understand that irreverence, joy and groove can be just as rebellious as distortion and volume. The real achievement here is longevity. This isn’t a track that only works in December. Strip away the seasonal framing and you’re left with a song that breathes, swings and sticks. It’s festive without being disposable — a rarity in the Christmas-song industrial complex. In a genre obsessed with authenticity, Santa’s Naughty List feels honest precisely because it refuses to play by the expected rules. Punk doesn’t always have to be angry. Sometimes, it just needs to dance badly and mean it. So pour yourself a filthy glass of Baileys, crack open the Quality Street, get some tinsel around your baubles and check it out for yourself: - Watch the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jt46H9I29hw Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/4ampegVXKxM8Sc4gEtxBzl If Santa’s Naughty List made you smile, sway, or reconsider what a punk Christmas song can be, do your civic duty and vote for it as Classic Rock’s Track of the Week: https://www.loudersound.com/music/tracks-singles/classic-rocks-tracks-of-the-week-december-22-2025 Because sometimes the best gifts don’t come wrapped — they come swinging.

Rock City, Valencia. 9 January.Circle it in permanent marker. Cross out any plans involving sleep, dignity or restraint. Because this isn’t just another hardcore night — this is Kaos Urbano hitting 30 years of street-level fury, and they’re not coming to reminisce. They’re coming to flatten the place. This is the kind of show where the floor gets sticky before the first breakdown and stays that way until the lights come up and everyone looks ten years older, soaked in sweat and grinning like idiots who just survived something important. Thirty years in, Kaos Urbano are still allergic to bullshit. No polish. No midlife crisis reinvention. No “legacy act” nonsense. Just the same core mission they’ve carried since day one: songs built like fists, lyrics aimed straight at the teeth, and a live show that treats the audience as accomplices, not spectators. This isn’t a greatest-hits victory lap. It’s a survival report. Three decades of resistance, frustration, working-class rage and communal release — delivered at full volume, with zero interest in going quietly. Expect songs that hit like brickwork, chants that turn the room into a single lung, and breakdowns designed to empty the pit and refill it instantly. At Rock City, those anthems won’t echo — they’ll detonate. Before Kaos Urbano even step on stage, A Tercio Pelao will have already turned the room into a pressure cooker. These are songs that smell of concrete, beer and streetlights — hardcore that doesn’t ask permission and doesn’t slow down for anyone. They don’t warm up crowds; they activate them. Expect fast, loud, no-frills aggression that sets the tone early and leaves the pit feral before the headliners even plug in. This is the kind of opening set that doesn’t get applause so much as a collective nod: yeah, we’re in it now. Rock City isn’t a neutral space — it’s a proving ground. Low ceiling, tight sightlines, sound that punches back. This is a venue that rewards bands who bring intensity and punishes anyone who tries to coast. On 9 January, it’ll be the perfect container for chaos: bodies colliding, sweat dripping from the walls, voices hoarse by the second chorus. This is hardcore as it’s meant to be experienced — too close, too loud, too real. There will be no safe distance. No phones held politely at chest height. No ironic detachment. Just fists in the air, boots on shoulders, and lyrics screamed by people who mean every word. This is community forged through volume and velocity — strangers united by the need to feel something real at the start of a new year. Kaos Urbano don’t celebrate 30 years by looking back. They do it by standing their ground, turning the amps up, and reminding everyone why they mattered then — and why they still matter now. For tickets and more information: Enterticket

Some bands grow old quietly.Porretas do not.... On 14 February 2026, while the rest of the city fumbles with roses, reservations and overpriced romance, Sala Repvblicca will be hosting something far more honest: 35 years of Porretas, blasted at full volume, with sweat on the walls and choruses shouted by people who learned half their philosophy in front of a stage, beer in hand. This isn’t nostalgia.This is survival. Formed in Hortaleza, Madrid, Porretas have spent three and a half decades doing what they’ve always done best: telling the truth loudly, with distortion, humour, rage and heart in equal measure. They’ve never chased trends, never polished the rough edges, never pretended to be anything other than a working-class rock band with stories to tell and zero interest in shutting up. Thirty-five years later, those stories still hit. Maybe harder. Because Porretas aren’t about fashion — they’re about life. The shitty jobs. The mates who didn’t make it. The bars that disappeared. The nights that saved you. The jokes you tell to survive the next day. Their songs don’t posture; they walk beside you, pint by pint, riff by riff. Over the years, Porretas have built a catalogue that reads like a handbook for living on your own terms. Songs that smell of smoke and asphalt, lyrics that laugh in the face of authority without ever losing their humanity. Tracks like “Si Nos Dejáis”, “Pájaro Negro”, “Manolo Kabezabolo”, “Ahora” or “Y Aún Arde Madrid” aren’t just songs — they’re shared experiences, screamed back at the band by rooms full of people who know every word because those words meant something at the right time. And that’s the key: Porretas didn’t just soundtrack youth. They aged with their audience, without softening the blows or cleaning up the mess. Sala Repvblicca is the perfect setting for this celebration. Big enough to contain the chaos, close enough to feel every kick drum in your ribs. Expect a career-spanning set that pulls no punches — old classics, deep cuts, and that unmistakable Porretas energy that turns concerts into collective therapy sessions with guitars. This is a band that still plays like it matters. No cruise-control rock. No going through the motions. When Porretas step on stage, it’s still now, still urgent, still necessary. And yes, there will be a special guest band, because Porretas have always understood that rock isn’t a solo act — it’s a family, a scene, a chain of noise passed from one generation to the next. Celebrating 35 years isn’t about looking back. It’s about proving you’re still here. In a world obsessed with reinvention, Porretas’ greatest rebellion has been consistency. Same attitude. Same fire. Same refusal to be polite. They’ve earned every scar, every chorus, every night like this one. So on 14 February 2026, forget the clichés. Skip the candlelight. Go where the real love lives — in a room full of people shouting the same lines they’ve been shouting for decades, because some things don’t age, they dig in. Porretas aren’t celebrating their past.They’re celebrating the fact they’re still standing and Valencia is about to feel every one of those 35 years — loud, proud, and gloriously unfiltered. For ticekts and more information: Sala Repvblicca

Put the sign on the door, chain the bar shut and tell the neighbours to give up now — La Fuga and Benito Kamelas have officially SOLD OUT the Roig Arena for their 7 March collision in Valencia. No tickets. No mercy. No last-minute miracles. If you’re not already in, you’re outside pressing your face against the glass while the rock & roll faithful warm up their vocal cords inside. This isn’t a marketing triumph — it’s a statement. Two bands forged in sweat, highways and heartbreak have just proven that Spanish rock doesn’t need hype when it has history. La Fuga don’t sell out venues — they earn them. Born in Reinosa and raised on the unforgiving circuit of clubs and festivals, La Fuga have built a catalogue that sounds like it was written in the back of vans and at the wrong end of the night. Albums like A las doce, Calles de papel and Negociando gasolina didn’t chase trends — they chased truth. That’s why, decades later, people are still screaming Por verte sonreír like it’s a personal manifesto. A sold-out Roig Arena isn’t a peak — it’s another mile marker on a road they’ve never stopped driving. For Benito Kamelas, this sold-out show hits different. Valencia’s own heartbreak merchants have turned hometown loyalty into a weapon, and the Roig Arena is now officially at capacity thanks to a fanbase that treats every Benito Kamelas gig like a family reunion that got slightly out of hand. Songs like Quiero, Vida loca and He decidido don’t just get sung — they get confessed. This is barrio rock with receipts, and Valencia showed up early to make sure nobody missed out. The Roig Arena is still writing its live-music legend, but nights like this are how venues earn their reputation. A full house. No spare air. Thousands of voices waiting to explode at the first chord. This won’t be a concert — it’ll be a pressure cooker. In an era of half-empty halls and inflated numbers, this sold-out show means something real. It means songs still matter. It means history still counts. It means Spanish rock, when it’s honest and loud enough, can still shut the doors and shake the foundations. On 7 March, La Fuga and Benito Kamelas won’t be asking for permission. They’ve already taken the place.

Love to Rock is officially back. After a rain-hit edition that forced last-minute cancellations, Valencia’s essential music-and-gastronomy festival returns with renewed energy — and its first confirmations for 2026 already set the tone. Taking over La Marina de València on 2 and 3 October 2026 , Love to Rock will celebrate its seventh edition , once again blending cutting-edge live music with a high-end culinary experience that has become a hallmark of the festival. The first artists announced? Ginebras, Depedro, Niños Bravos and León Benavente — four names that perfectly reflect Love to Rock’s balance of pop immediacy, lyrical depth and live power. More bands and DJs will be revealed in the coming months, filling the festival’s three stages: Dársena, Pérgola and Gastro . Freshly added to the bill, Ginebras arrive as one of Spain’s most vibrant pop bands. The Madrid quartet have built a distinctive indie-pop universe fueled by autobiographical lyrics, humour and pure charisma. Closing out 2025 with the release of “Mi diario” , the first single from their upcoming third album (due in 2026), Ginebras reveal a tougher, more rock-driven edge — sharper guitars, heavier bass, pounding drums and lyrics loaded with restless energy. Depedro continues to tour Un lugar perfecto (2023), an album rooted in memory, emotional geography and the beauty of simplicity. Blending Latin-rooted sounds with his unmistakable personal touch, Jairo Zavala delivers songs that whisper rather than shout — music that finds meaning in restraint. His Love to Rock performance promises to be one of the festival’s most intimate and resonant moments. Formed in 2012 by some of Spain’s most respected musicians, León Benavente quickly became festival staples after their debut album. Now touring their fifth record, Nueva sinfonía sobre el caos (2024), the band brings sharp, concise songs that are classic in structure yet bold in execution — danceable, hedonistic, reflective and built to hit hard live. Niños Bravos are the new supergroup on the block, featuring members of St. Woods, Jack Bisonte, Alavedra and Tiburona. Formed in late 2023, they deliver garage-flavoured pop packed with sarcasm, everyday mishaps and private jokes turned into crowd-chanting anthems. With infectious choruses and undeniable stage chemistry, their live shows are already earning a reputation for pure good vibes and party-ready energy. Alongside the lineup reveal, Love to Rock has confirmed two special launch parties to kick-start the road to October. 31 January at La Pérgola , featuring Derby Motoreta’s Burrito Kachimba and Llobarros 9 May at 16 Toneladas , starring Los Romeos Two events that perfectly capture the festival’s spirit — music, celebration and community. Tickets for the launch parties and main festival are already available via lovetorockfestival.es

WARM UP Estrella de Levante 2026 keeps turning the heat up. The Murcia festival has unveiled a major new wave of confirmations that pushes its lineup into must-attend territory, adding Soulwax, Rusowsky, Ladilla Rusa, La La Love You, Amore, Biznaga, Deadletter, Karavana, La Paloma, VVV (Trippin’you), 1111, Bclip, Flaca and Neoverbeneo . These 14 names join an already stacked bill featuring Fatboy Slim, Guitarricadelafuente, Carlos Ares, León Benavente, Viva Belgrado and more, shaping a bold, eclectic lineup that reflects the pulse of contemporary music — from cutting-edge electronics to urgent guitars, pop catharsis and club-ready chaos. Leading the announcement are Soulwax , one of the most influential electronic acts of the last two decades. The Belgian duo of brothers Stephen and David Dewaele remain, in 2025, a benchmark for innovation and sheer live power. Blurring the lines between techno, acid, synth-punk and rock, Soulwax’s meticulously crafted live shows are full-body experiences — hypnotic, explosive and festival-level by design. Representing the sharp edge of Spain’s new pop wave is Rusowsky , a defining voice of emotionally charged, experimental pop. Producer, songwriter and all-round auteur, his sound fuses mutant pop, lo-fi electronics and generational storytelling. With recent releases and collaborations cementing his status, Rusowsky arrives as one of the most vital figures in Spain’s alternative pop landscape. Ladilla Rusa bring irreverence, humour and dancefloor irony, continuing their run as modern-day pop cult heroes with euphoric, tongue-in-cheek anthems built for mass singalongs. La La Love You , meanwhile, arrive at peak form, armed with feel-good pop-punk hits, viral choruses and a live show that thrives on pure connection and melody. Local talent shines through Amore , the project of María Moreno Martínez. Following the release of her debut album Top, Hits, Ballads, etc… , Amore delivers adventurous, genre-fluid pop rooted in emotional honesty and creative freedom — a homegrown highlight with national reach. Few bands capture contemporary urgency like Biznaga , whose sharp-edged rock fuses melody, political bite and unfiltered attitude.From the UK, Deadletter land in Murcia as one of Europe’s most exciting new post-punk acts, bringing intensity, provocation and the momentum of their upcoming album Existence Is Bliss . Karavana continue their rise as generational storytellers, pairing guitar-driven anthems with immediacy and emotional punch. La Paloma add tension and elegance, delivering dark, cathartic songs shaped by post-punk, noise and emotional restraint. Few projects blur guitars and rave culture like VVV (Trippin’you) . The Móstoles trio channel post-punk, trance, mákina and garage into a confrontational, physical live experience that has become essential for a new generation.Madrid collective 1111 push electronic experimentation forward with a collaborative, shape-shifting approach, while Bclip, Flaca and Neoverbeneo round out the announcement with forward-thinking pop, underground electronics and radical performance energy. With this new wave of artists, WARM UP Estrella de Levante 2026 strengthens its commitment to diversity, risk and artistic quality — bridging international heavyweights and local voices, established names and emerging talent, emotional depth and full-throttle dancefloor release. Murcia once again stakes its claim as one of Spain’s most vital cultural meeting points. Limited-capacity passes now on sale Two-day passes for 1–2 May are available from €65.99 (while allocation lasts) at warmupfestival.es .

Valencia didn’t hesitate. Fito & Fitipaldis’ concert at Roig Arena on 24 January is officially sold out, and the speed of it says everything you need to know. No gimmicks, no nostalgia bait—just one of Spain’s most loved rock bands returning to the road and a city answering in unison: we’re in. This isn’t just another full house. It’s a statement. A reminder that when Fito Cabrales and company announce a return, people listen—and then they buy tickets fast. Fito & Fitipaldis don’t trade in trends. They trade in truth. For more than two decades, their songs have lived in bars, cars, bedrooms and back pockets across Spain. Tracks like Soldadito marinero, La casa por el tejado and Por la boca vive el pez aren’t just hits—they’re emotional reference points. Led by the unmistakable presence of Fito Cabrales, the band has always walked a fine line between rock grit, blues swagger and lyrical vulnerability. That balance—equal parts street-wise and soul-deep—is exactly why their return with the Aullidos Tour has landed with such force. The Aullidos Tour marks Fito & Fitipaldis’ long-awaited return to live performance after more than two years away from the stage. Absence, in this case, hasn’t cooled demand—it’s supercharged it. The sold-out status of the Valencia date confirms what fans already knew: this tour isn’t a victory lap, it’s a re-ignition. Adding fuel to the fire is the promise of new material from their upcoming album, El monte de los aullidos. Fresh songs will sit alongside the classics, not as interruptions but as proof that this band still has something urgent to say—and still knows how to say it loud. That this sell-out happens at Roig Arena feels symbolic. Valencia’s newest major venue has quickly positioned itself as a heavyweight on the national touring circuit, and hosting a sold-out Fito & Fitipaldis show cements that status. With its modern design and arena-scale ambition, Roig Arena offers the kind of setting this band now demands: big enough for mass singalongs, intimate enough for emotional punch. On 24 January, every chord, every lyric, every shared shout back to the stage will be amplified by the fact that everyone in the room fought to be there. If you’ve got a ticket, you’re holding gold. If you don’t, you’ll be hearing about it the next day—through hoarse voices, blurry videos and the collective buzz that only a truly special concert leaves behind. 24 January. Roig Arena. Sold out.Fito & Fitipaldis are back, and Valencia has already answered the call.