Valencia didn’t just respond — it pounced . Rusowsky’s two upcoming shows at Roig Arena on 21 and 22 January are completely sold out , locking in one of the most talked-about moments of the city’s winter live-music calendar. Two nights, a brand-new arena, and not a single ticket left on the table. This is what momentum looks like. Rusowsky’s rise has been anything but traditional. Emerging from the digital underground with a sound that blurs pop, R&B, hyper-melody and emotional minimalism, he has built a fanbase that feels personal, obsessive and fiercely loyal. His songs don’t shout — they latch on . And once they do, they don’t let go. Selling out two consecutive nights at Roig Arena confirms what streaming numbers and packed club shows have been hinting at for a while: Rusowsky has officially crossed the line from cult favourite to major-league live act. The back-to-back dates promise more than just repetition. Rusowsky’s shows thrive on intimacy, mood and emotional tension — the kind of atmosphere that turns a venue into a shared headspace. Expect fragile melodies colliding with bass-heavy drops, moments of quiet reflection followed by sudden collective release. And now, with both nights sold out, those rooms will be filled with an audience already fully locked in, ready to sing every word back. For Roig Arena , this double sell-out is another clear signal that Valencia’s new flagship venue is already delivering on its promise. Pulling off two sold-out nights for one of Spain’s most forward-thinking young artists isn’t just good optics — it’s proof that the arena is becoming a magnet for artists defining the now , not just the legacy circuit.

There are festivals, and then there is Nits de Vivers, that annual fever dream where Valencia’s gente fina and the city’s nocturnal weirdos collide under the lush canopy of Jardines de Viveros—half botanical garden, half open-air church of musical delirium. For ten nights the city sheds its Mediterranean calm, cracks its knuckles, and welcomes a rotating parade of musicians like pilgrims at a sonic temple. And baby, this year the lineup is a kaleidoscope of genres stitched together with pure nocturnal adrenaline. From indie sweetness to molten metal to urban futurism, the 2025 edition doesn’t shuffle—it struts, beer in one hand, heart in the other. Tickets? Already swirling around cyberspace like golden tokens of madness at nitsdevivers.com . But don't think you’re just paying for music—this festival sticks to its gospel: great sound, a serene environment, and a gastronomic zone so well curated it could make a Michelin critic weep into their croquetas. Chill-out spaces? Everywhere. Shade? Blessed. Vibes? Unstoppable. THURSDAY, MAY 28 — SIDECARS SCALING THEIR OWN EVEREST Sidecars roll in like seasoned mountaineers, carrying nearly two decades of sweat, riffs, and broken strings on their backs. The trio—Juancho, Gerbass, and Ruly—aren’t here to play safe. They’re presenting “Everest,” their eighth album, a thirteen-track climb through emotional rock, mid-tempo reflections, and a worldview built on surviving slowly, honestly, and without shortcuts. Live, Sidecars don’t just perform—they exhale. Expect an avalanche of melodic catharsis, delivered with the precision of a band that’s spent eighteen years sharpening their knives. FRIDAY, MAY 29 — CARLOS ARES & NIÑA POLACA: THE NEW WAVE DOUBLE PUNCH Carlos Ares, the pop architect who’s been shaping Spanish soundscapes since the late ’90s, steps into Viveros with a catalogue that spans from intimate folk to cutting-edge minimalist pop. His 2024 debut Peregrino proved he could turn decades of musical knowledge into something raw and electrifying. Then he dropped “La Boca del Lobo” in 2025—more experimental, more honest, more him. Live? His shows are sonic pilgrimages, equal parts confession and celebration. Then comes Niña Polaca, the Madrid-Alicante phenomenon that’s been zigzagging the Iberian Peninsula like a meteor shower. Their last record, “Que adoren tus huesos” (2023), became a cultural passport—collabs with Amaral and La M.O.D.A., festival takeovers, even a Walmart Easter commercial in the U.S. (yes, Walmart—capitalism works in weird ways). They’re gearing up for a new album in 2026, and they’ll be firing fresh artillery across the Viveros crowd. SATURDAY, MAY 30 — IVÁN FERREIRO: 35 YEARS, ONE MAN, ONE MIC Here comes a national treasure walking softly into his own legacy. Iván Ferreiro, the poet-laureate of Spanish alternative music, celebrates 35 years on the road with his Hoy x Ayer anniversary tour. No distractions. No theatrics. Just Iván, a microphone, and decades of songs that shaped entire generations. From Los Piratas to his most recent emotional autopsies, Ferreiro’s voice—half dagger, half lullaby—will guide the crowd through an intimate, stripped-back performance. Expect goosebumps, tears, and maybe even spiritual reboots. It’s not a concert; it’s a pilgrimage. FRIDAY, JUNE 5 — METAL NIGHT: A FIVE-BAND ASSAULT ON THE PEACEFUL GARDENS If the previous nights were poetic, this one is pure high-voltage carnage. A night where the trees of Viveros might shake loose their leaves and the birds consider moving out permanently. S.A. headline with their thrash-hardcore hybrid, honed since 1988 with the precision of a band that kicks against injustice like it owes them money. Angelus Apatrida, Spain’s international thrash ambassadors, roll in celebrating 20 years of furious riffage. Bala, the Galician punk-rock duo, will rip your face off with two instruments and sheer willpower. Deaf Devils, Valencia’s own punk-metal disciples, will prove rock is not dead—it just grew sharper teeth. Vaire, also homegrown, close the circle with alternative metal that mixes classic-rock instincts with modern ferocity. This night isn’t music—it’s a controlled demolition. SATURDAY, JUNE 6 — HOKE: THE FUTURE ARRIVES Born in Valencia in 1996, Hoke has been quietly rewriting the rules of Spanish urban music. His 2024 album “Tres Creus” didn’t just chart—it staked a flag, marking him as one of the most promising rappers in the country. He blends rap, trap, introspection, and swagger with the precision of a craftsman and the hunger of an artist who knows he’s just getting started. June 6 won’t be a performance—it’ll be a coronation. Ten days. One garden. A thousand stories.Indie pilgrims, metal warriors, urban poets, and nostalgic dreamers all converging under the same Valencian sky. Nits de Vivers doesn’t just put on concerts—it creates nights you talk about for years, nights when the city pulses with a heartbeat bigger than any one genre. Step inside. Let the music take over. Bring sunscreen, curiosity, and maybe a spare liver. You’re going to need all three. For tickets and more information: Nits De Vivers

Valencia didn’t wait around. It committed. La M.O.D.A.’s two concerts at Roig Arena on 10 and 11 January are officially sold out, turning what was already one of the most anticipated live events of the winter into a full-blown statement of intent. Two nights, zero tickets, and thousands of voices ready to turn a brand-new arena into something that feels fiercely human. This isn’t hype. It’s history catching up with a band that has earned every square metre of that stage. La M.O.D.A. (La Maravillosa Orquesta del Alcohol) didn’t arrive here by accident. Formed in Burgos in 2011, their rise has been defined by stubborn independence, endless touring and songs that feel lived-in rather than engineered. Folk, punk, rock, and acoustic instrumentation collide in their music, but the constant has always been honesty. That honesty is exactly why two arena dates sold out without blinking. No viral gimmicks. No manufactured buzz. Just a fanbase that shows up — and shows up fast. Selling out one arena show is impressive. Selling out two consecutive nights is something else entirely. It confirms La M.O.D.A.’s rare position in Spanish music: a band capable of scaling up without losing emotional weight.Their songs — about doubt, resistance, friendship, exhaustion and hope — don’t belong exclusively to the band anymore. They belong to the crowd. At Roig Arena, those crowds will be massive, but the connection will remain intimate, built on shared lyrics and collective release. La M.O.D.A. gigs are not passive experiences. They are participatory, almost ritualistic. Choruses are shouted back with conviction, quieter moments land with near-religious silence, and by the end everyone feels like they’ve been part of something rather than spectators of it.With both dates sold out, that sense of community will be magnified. Thousands of people, two nights in a row, arriving already emotionally invested — the perfect conditions for something unforgettable. For Roig Arena, this double sell-out is another defining moment. Valencia’s new flagship venue is quickly proving it can host not just global names, but artists with deep cultural resonance at home. La M.O.D.A. filling the arena two nights running isn’t just a success — it’s a benchmark.

Some festivals age gracefully—Leyendas del Rock does not. It sprints into its 20th anniversary like a leather-clad warhorse possessed by ancient spirits, spiked wristbands glinting under the Villena sun, screaming, “Turn it up or get out of my way!” And with the festival’s final line-up now revealed, it’s obvious: 2026 is the year Leyendas stops being a festival and becomes a full-blown seismic event. They’ve slammed the gates shut on the line-up with the precision of a guillotine, and the head that rolls is nothing less than Arch Enemy —the Swedish juggernaut swooping in as the fourth headliner and pulling Spain into a vortex of exclusive, high-octane chaos. Their new reincarnation is promised to be fierce enough to peel paint off Villena’s walls. But the madness doesn’t stop there—Leyendas has thrown a sacred bone to the purists with Stratovarius , who will blast through the holy quadrilogy of Episode, Visions, Destiny, and Infinite. This isn’t just a set—it’s a pilgrimage. Bring tissues, a notebook, and at least three spare souls. Then there’s Dartagnan , returning by popular demand—apparently fans howled so loudly last year that the organizers had no choice but to unleash them back into the night. And with a nocturnal set, expect something between a medieval tavern brawl and a heroic drinking contest soundtracked by fireworks. What’s thirty-two more bands in a festival already overflowing with steel, sweat, and sonic devastation? Thundermother , Tailgunner , Jordi Wild DJ Set (because even metalheads need a 3 AM identity crisis), Lèpoka , Ankhara , Guilt Trip , Signs of the Swarm , Employed to Serve , Evo , Chained Saint , Wings of Steel , Injector , Lándevir , Celtibeerian , Killus , Bolu2 Death , Salduie , Blaze Out , Death & Legacy , Hadadanza , Against Myself , Daeria , Mind Driller , Ekyrian , Xeria , Aneuma , Prom Kinks , Fallen At Dawn , Heleven —the sort of line-up that makes your doctor shake their head slowly while muttering something about “hearing loss” and “lifestyle choices.” And that’s before you even look at the titans already crowning 2026: Helloween, In Flames, Arch Enemy, Slaughter To Prevail, Savatage, Godsmack, Warcry, Sepultura, Black Label Society, Saurom , and assorted heavy-metal patron saints summoned specifically to bless (or destroy) the fields of Villena. Mark it down. Tattoo it. Carve it onto your fridge. Leyendas del Rock 2026 lands from 5th to 8th August , and Villena, Alicante will once again turn into the sunburnt Valhalla of the Iberian Peninsula. Hydrate or die. Mosh carefully. Pack sunscreen and maybe a small will. The festival is now officially full-power operational , meaning day tickets and four-day passes are on sale: Single-day ticket: €99 + fees Four-day pass: €180 + fees (available until December 31) Pool and shade-camping passes: last units remaining because comfort is the first casualty in metal warfare. If you want in—and you do—run, don’t stroll, to the ticket portal before some helmeted fanatic buys the last wristband and laughs in your face. If you survived reading this, congratulations. Now grab your ticket, polish your boots, and prepare for Leyendas del Rock XX —the anniversary where Villena burns hotter than the sun and louder than reason. For tickets and more information: Leyendas Del Rock

Some shows are dates. Others are obligations. But 14 February in Valencia feels like a weird cosmic alignment in which a chunk of Spanish music history has decided to celebrate its 40th birthday by marching straight into the city’s newest concrete cathedral — Roig Arena — and detonating four decades’ worth of folk-punk storytelling in the middle of Valentine’s Day like a romantic flower bomb packed with fiddles, guitars, and cultural memory. To understand the significance, you have to rewind to the summer of 1984 , when a group of young musicians in Valladolid formed what would eventually become Spain’s most improbable musical collective: a folk-rock-punk hybrid wielding fiddles, whistles, Celtic ornamentation, political lyricism, gallows humor, and the sort of melodic euphoria that makes beer taste colder and life feel navigable. They took the name Celtas Cortos from a brand of cigarettes — an appropriately European mix of irony, vice, and working-class aesthetics — and built one of the country’s great storytelling machines. Their sound evolved into a wild Iberian fusion: Celtic folk energy fused with electric guitars, ska rhythm, punk urgency, violin lines sharp enough to perform surgery, and lyrics that oscillate between melancholic introspection and beer-soaked celebration. By the early 90s they were national phenomena. Albums like “Cuéntame un Cuento” (1991) and “Tranquilo Majete” (1993) became generational artifacts, time capsules you can still hear pouring out of bars, fiestas, and family cookouts from Burgos to Cádiz. They wrote songs for heartbreak, for youth, for political frustration, for friendship, for the times Spain felt too big or too small for its own skin. And unlike many bands from the same era, they refused to ossify . Lineups changed, aesthetics mutated, and they kept releasing records — over a dozen albums , several compilations, soundtracks, collaborations, and more gigs than any reasonable calendar should be able to support. Where many bands age into caricature, Celtas aged into institution . This 40th anniversary tour isn’t some dusty museum tour where the hits are squeezed out like toothpaste from a nearly empty tube. It’s a demonstration of socio-cultural persistence: four decades of troubadour warfare, of fiddles plugged into amplifiers, of audiences who never stopped showing up. Their catalog is built for participation rather than passive appreciation. When Celtas play “20 de abril,” for example, you can watch entire generations calculate how much time has passed, why it hurts, and why they’re smiling anyway. And then there’s the container: Roig Arena , Valencia’s newest multi-purpose mega-structure and the city’s most ambitious love letter to sports and large-scale entertainment in decades. Rising beside Feria Valencia like a futuristic sibling, the arena promises modern acoustics, more seats than some small municipalities, and the kind of infrastructural swagger that says: We are done borrowing other cities’ venues. We will host our own damn spectacles. Valencia has been circling the arena with civic curiosity since construction began. Now it’s operational, it’s rapidly becoming the room for massive musical and cultural events: the kind of place where 10,000 humans can chant, cheer, or emotionally disintegrate in synchronized civic harmony. Celtas Cortos stepping into Roig Arena on Valentine’s Day feels symbolic: generational Spanish folk-rock claiming one of the newest and most high-tech stages in the country. Tradition meets glass and steel. Fiddle meets LED rigging. Beer meets blockchain ticketing. The whole anthropological circus. Choosing 14 February is either genius or sabotage. While other couples exchange chocolates and obligatory displays of affection, Celtas fans will be shouting choruses about memory, heartbreak, youth, politics, and the bittersweet price of time — which arguably makes for a more honest Valentine’s ritual than whatever Hallmark had in mind. Expect couples. Expect groups of old friends. Expect thousands of people who grew up with these songs and have no intention of letting them fade quietly into nostalgia’s nursing home. This will not be a polite recital. Celtas Cortos are not a relic. They’re a living folk organism , a Spanish Celtic punk circus with 40 years of receipts and a fanbase that still treats concerts as semi-sacred communal therapy. 40 Años ontando Cuentos is not just an anniversary slogan. It’s a threat to keep going and on a February night in Valencia, in a brand-new arena engineered for spectacle, Celtas Cortos are going to tell those stories louder than ever. For tickets and more information: Roig Arena

Dust off your boots and loosen your voice box — Gazpatxo Rock is barreling back into Ayora, Valencia on 28 February 2026, and this ain’t your grandma’s festival. What started in the early 2000s as a grassroots punk-rock rally has mutated into one of the fiercest annual gatherings of loud guitars, sweat-soaked skin and communal fury in the Spanish music scene. Forget midday playlists and posh wristbands — Gazpatxo Rock is about rock & punk in its purest form: bands that bite, crowds that shout back, and a vibe that feels like invasion, not entertainment. This year’s lineup is a brutal cross-section of the state’s most combustible rock forces, ready to tear the roof off the Recinto de Carnavales de Ayora: Non Servium — bastions of street punk brutality that hit like political lightning. El Último Ke Zierre (EUKZ) — anarchic punk snarls with melodies you’ll be screaming for days. Los de Marras — veterans of raw rock & roll with a voice for the underdog. Biznaga — post-punk instigators with razor-sharp hooks. Rat-Zinger — full-blast punk rock steamrollers. Juantxo Skalari & La Rude Band — ska-tinged revolution for sunburned hearts. El Reno Renardo, Arpaviejas, DJ Trapella y Periferia — all adding flavor to the sonic gumbo. The sheer diversity — punk, urban rock, ska, rap-infused grooves — makes Gazpatxo Rock feel less like a “festival” and more like a riot in technicolor. ( Modo Festival ) Gazpatxo Rock isn’t run by corporate bean-counters; it’s a cultural machine driven by punks, locals, drummers with calloused hands and fans who treat rock & roll like oxygen. After 20+ years on the circuit, it has become one of the most authentic rock gatherings on the Spanish calendar — a weekend-in-a-day where history and future collide in a wall of amps and attitude. If you’re chasing polished production and Instagram moments, look somewhere else. Gazpatxo Rock is dust, sweat, guts and noise — the kind of festival that punches you right in the solar plexus and leaves you grinning. 28 February 2026. Ayora, Valencia. Bring your voice, your rage and your thirst. Gazpatxo Rock is ready to spit you into the deep end of the rock & punk underground — and nobody’s coming home unchanged. For tickets and more information: Gazpatxo Rock

Aúpa Lumbreiras!! hasn’t even cracked open a single beer yet and the damn thing is already sold out —gone, vanished, hoovered up like communion wafers at a starving saints’ convention. It’s only December, the festival isn’t until 13–15 August 2026 in Villena, and yet the entire punk nation has snapped up every last ticket like they were buying passage off a sinking ship. If Spain ever needed proof that the underground is not only alive but kicking holes in the floor, here it is: Lumbreiras returns, and the people have responded like rabid dogs finally hearing the dinner bell. And who can blame them? Look at that poster—it's not a lineup, it’s an act of war. Soziedad Alkohólika sitting at the top like a smoking cannon, El Drogas stalking the field like a bearded general of righteous chaos, Narco sharpening their riffs for industrial carnage, and The Toy Dolls grinning from the corner like neon anarchist gremlins. You’ve got Boikot , Talco , Los de Marras , Def Con Dos , Porretas , Sinkope , Envidia Kotxina , Kaos Etíliko , Gritando en Silencio , Me Fritos and the Gimme Cheetos —a whole battalion of bands engineered specifically to test the limits of Villena’s municipal structure. The fact that this comeback edition sold out instantly isn’t just fan enthusiasm—it’s a cultural reflex. Aúpa Lumbreiras! has always been the dirty beating heart of Iberian punk, ska-punk, hardcore, and street rock. It’s the place where the tattoos glow brighter, the boots stomp harder, and the bars run out of beer faster. When it vanished years ago, people mourned it like a lost lung. Now that it’s back? The tribes of Spain pounced like wolves on raw meat. You can practically hear it already:Three nights of sweat, dust, anti-establishment sermons, and choruses shouted by thousands of sunburnt misfits who wouldn’t trade the feeling for all the sanitized, influencer-friendly festivals in the world. Villena’s Polideportivo Municipal may not survive, but the crowd will. The message is clear: AÚPA LUMBREIRAS!! HAS RISEN. And the faithful have already locked in their place at the altar. If you didn’t get a ticket?Well, amigo… start bribing, begging, or building a catapult. Because this August, Villena is going to explode—and you’re going to want to be airborne when it happens.

Valencia, get ready to feel something—hard.On December 19 , Vera GRV rolls into Sala República with her “Se Me Pasó, Llamarte, Mamá” tour, a title that sounds like a late-night confession left on someone’s voicemail… and the music hits exactly the same way. Vera GRV has spent the last two years bulldozing her way out of the underground and into the spotlight with a sound that crackles between alt-pop heartbreak, urban melancholy, and that unmistakable Gen-Z emotional voltage—equal parts gloss and wound. She writes like someone who’s lived twice as many lives as her passport says, and she performs like she’s trying to burn the stage down just to keep warm. And Valencia is catching her at one of those rare, electric moments: the exact point where an artist stops being a secret and becomes a movement. The setlist is expected to swing between soft-focus bruisers and explosive, beat-heavy bangers—songs built for anyone who’s ever texted someone they swore they wouldn’t, or danced their way through a bad decision. “Se me pasó” and “Llamarte” have already turned into emotional grenades among her fanbase, and live they hit like a diary being read under strobe lights. But don’t let the vulnerability fool you—Vera knows how to command a room. Her shows feel like confession booths charged with neon, a blend of catharsis and chaos where you’re as likely to cry as you are to scream the lyrics in someone’s ear. Sala República is the perfect battlefield: big enough to feel like an event, close enough to feel personal. And if her recent performances are any sign, she’s bringing everything: the cinematic staging, the razor-edged band, the raw, cracked-open honesty that has become her trademark. Expect an audience that knows every line, every whisper, every wounded syllable—this is an artist people claim, not just listen to. In a month crowded with tours, reunions and end-of-year blowouts, Vera GRV stands out because she isn’t offering nostalgia—she’s offering now. Messy, brilliant, painfully current emotion wrapped in a sound that refuses to sit still. For tickets and more information: Sala Repvblicca

After two months of pure live-music combustion—amps buzzing, floors shaking, bars sweating— San Miguel On Air is barreling into its December endgame like a tour bus with no brakes and a cooler full of cold beers. Until December 21, Valencia becomes a sprawling, nocturnal treasure map of venues, sounds, surprises, and beautiful musical chaos. Diversity? Check. Intimacy? Double check. New bands ready to blow your eyebrows off? Absolutely. This whole thing isn’t just a “cycle”—it’s Cervezas San Miguel’s loud, unapologetic love letter to the city’s clubs, and to every restless beer-lover who prefers their music raw, real, and dangerously close to their face. This edition plants its flag across Valencia’s sacred nightlife constellation: Rock City, 16 Toneladas, Radio City, Electropura, Loco Club, The Hops, George Best Club, El Volander… all those stubborn rooms that refuse to die because live music still pumps their blood. December kicks off like a double punch to the jaw on the 3rd :At Rock City , The Baboon Show and Deaf Devils will likely shake loose a few ceiling tiles, while simultaneously, over at 16 Toneladas , Bob Wayne & Munly J Munly will deliver a different flavour of beautifully unhinged Americana grit. On December 5 , Perrícolas + Ramito Records detonate inside Radio City.On December 11 , Poesía Sintética turns George Best Club into a poetic pressure cooker.Then comes December 13 , when Estrella Fugaz melts Electropura into a dreamy dimension of reverb and stardust. One of the month’s crown jewels hits on December 17 , when Tuk Smith & The Restless Hearts storm Loco Club—an appointment for anyone who likes their rock ’n’ roll sweaty, loud, and wearing eyeliner. The final stretch feels like the last shots at a long, righteous bar session: Burguitos at The Hops on December 20,and the cycle’s final exhale on December 21 , at El Volander, with Farren El Guiri closing the book on this year’s San Miguel On Air odyssey. Tickets start at 5 euros , which in 2025 is basically the price of a strong coffee, making this entire adventure criminally accessible. The full schedule and updates? All on the festival’s website—not that anybody checks websites sober. With this final burst of shows, San Miguel On Air wraps up more than three months of injecting live music straight into the city’s bloodstream—boosting local venues, energizing Valencia’s cultural circuit, and giving curious minds and thirsty hearts a place to gather, sweat, shout, and discover something new. 3 Dec — Rock City: The Baboon Show + Deaf Devils 3 Dec — 16 Toneladas: Bob Wayne & Munly J Munly 5 Dec — Radio City: Perrícolas + Ramito Records 11 Dec — George Best Club: Poesía Sintética 13 Dec — Electropura: Estrella Fugaz 17 Dec — Loco Club: Tuk Smith & The Restless Hearts 20 Dec — The Hops: Burguitos 21 Dec — El Volander: Farren El Guiri San Miguel has spent 133 years messing with the rules of beer, pushing boundaries, chasing flavour like a religion. Their family of brews spans creative twists on the classics—Especial, Selecta, Yakima, Magna, Tap Station—and racks up international awards like bottle caps on a tour bus dashboard. They brew for the curious, the adventurous, the people who want more than “just a beer.” A century-plus titan of the Spanish beer universe: independent, family-rooted, and spread across 70 markets with 12 breweries, water springs, distribution networks, and a history that zigzags through Mahou, San Miguel, Alhambra, Solán de Cabras, and even the U.S. craft-beer insurgents Founders Brewing. They’re everywhere, they’re relentless, and they fuel nightlife like few others can. San Miguel On Air closes the year the only way it knows how: with guitars humming, cold beer flowing, and Valencia wide awake. Exactly as it should be. For tickets and more information: San Miguel

Valencia, 26 November 2025 — The circus has landed again. Locos por la Música is crashing back into Valencia for its second edition, and this time it’s not settling for the old confines of La Fonteta. No—like a band that suddenly realizes it’s too big for the garage, the festival is hauling itself into the Roig Arena , the city’s newest, loudest, biggest temple of noise. If it’s good enough for Valencia Basket’s reinvention, it’s good enough for a full-blown musical riot. Mark it down: Saturday, December 13, 2025 , from 17:00 onward—seven hours of pure sonic overdose, the kind that rattles your bones and rewires your nostalgia. The lineup reads like a fever dream of Spanish pop-rock royalty: bands and artists who etched their hooks into the national psyche long before algorithms decided what we listen to. To light the fuse, the festival threw a stunt this morning inside Valencia Airport —yes, the airport—where Aena and Binter helped stage an explosive showcase starring Seguridad Social , blasting riffs between boarding gates like a musical hijacking. They’ll be joined in December by the rest of the essential crew: Revolver, Los Rebeldes, La Guardia, Amistades Peligrosas, Girasoules, Rafa Sánchez … a cavalcade of icons ready to drag us through the anthems that shaped the 80s and 90s, back when the world felt reckless, sweaty, and gloriously alive. After storming other major cities with sold-out crowds and delirious fans, Locos por la Música has become the pilgrimage festival for anyone who still feels music in their spine—people who live off emotion, memory, and the eternal echo of the songs that won’t let go. The whole operation is engineered by Sena Productions , backed by Aena and Binter , and supported by Fundación Asindown , the social heart of the event, pushing for real inclusion for people with Down syndrome and intellectual disabilities. This isn’t just a festival.It ’s a reminder—loud, bright, and impossible to ignore—that music still has teeth, history still has rhythm,and Valencia is ready to howl again. For tickets and more information: Roig Arena

There are bands that tour.And then there are bands that return, stumbling out of the fog of their own mythology like half-remembered ghosts who suddenly kick your door down and ask for a drink. On December 13th, at Sala República, València is about to receive the second kind. Immaculate Fools, the cult romantics who smuggled heartbreak into the bloodstream of the ’80s and carved out their own corner of the pop-folk underworld, are rolling into town with the force of a band who’ve survived four decades of beauty, bruises, and the kind of stubborn magic that refuses to die. Forty years—forty!—of bending melancholy into an art form, and somehow the fire still looks fresh in their eyes. Sala República, with its concrete bones, industrial glow, and habit of turning nostalgia into something feral, is the perfect arena. When the Fools hit that stage, expect the old songs—yes, the ones you whispered into the night back when life felt like a storm you could surf forever. Expect new blood too, rearranged shadows, melodies that now carry the weight of decades lived, lost, and clawed back. The band’s sound still moves like a knife dipped in honey: sharply emotional, deceptively warm, sweet until it suddenly isn’t. There’s a defiant pulse beneath it all, the feeling that these musicians have earned every note they play the hard way, by living long enough to understand what their younger selves were only guessing at. Forty years after they first stepped into the light, Immaculate Fools aren’t just celebrating a milestone. They’re proving the strange alchemy of music:that some things don’t age—they deepen,they widen,they hit harder. And in València, the impact is going to be felt.See you at República—bring your heart, your past, and maybe a tissue or two. For tickets and more information: Sala Repvblicca

If you wander past 16 Toneladas on December 4th and feel the pavement humming under your shoes, don’t panic. That’s not an earthquake—it's the gravitational pull of Drink the Sea, the traveling supernova made of musicians who have already shaped half your record collection without asking for permission. This is a group stitched together from the DNA of alternative rock’s most persistent troublemakers. Peter Buck, the unfazeable architect who helped steer R.E.M. into global consciousness; Barrett Martin, drummer-shaman of Screaming Trees and Mad Season, a man who plays like every strike is a message to some ancient god. Alain Johannes, the spectral wizard behind Eleven and Queens of the Stone Age’s most shadowy corners. Duke Garwood, the Mark Lanegan Band’s desert-soul gunslinger. Plus percussionist Lisette Garcia and bassist Abbey Blackwell, the rhythmic conspirators making sure the whole thing doesn’t levitate off the stage midway through a song. Together they’re dragging their Drink the Sea Tour 2025 into València like a drifting meteor—ready to unload songs from their two debut albums, a handful of resurrected ghosts from their legendary past bands, and a hypnotic set of films by PBS filmmaker Tad Fettig, stitched into the night like strange moving prayers. It’s not just a concert. It’s a séance. A travelogue. A ritual disguised as a gig. 16 Toneladas, that dark and stubborn temple of R&B and rock ’n’ roll, is the perfect bunker for an event like this. Low ceilings, loud everything, sweat that drips from the walls even when nobody’s playing—exactly the kind of environment where a band like Drink the Sea can pull the floor out from under a crowd and watch everyone fall together. Expect strings that sound like sirens from another planet. Drums that feel like a warning. Songs that wander, burn, bloom, and collapse like collapsing stars. And expect a room full of people who, for one night, will swear they saw something holy. On Thursday, December 4, València won’t just hear Drink the Sea, It’ll drown beautifully in it. Be there. Or stay home and wonder why your friends came back glowing. For tickets and more information: 16 Toneladas