If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if a herd of mutant reindeer armed with electric guitars crash-landed in a neon-soaked future, you’re about to find out. On Saturday, December 20th , at 16 Toneladas Rock & Roll Club (Valencia) , the glorious lunacy known as El Reno Renardo returns — and they’re bringing Golden Peluco along for the ride. This isn’t just a concert. It’s a full-blown sci-fi fiesta , a chrome-plated orgy of riffs, satire, and questionable fashion choices. The promotional image alone looks like a mash-up between Tron , Mad Max , and a Mercadona Christmas catalog. Four shiny warriors in reflective armor, their faces bathed in LED glory, stare down the camera as if preparing to defend Earth from an invasion of bad taste. El Reno Renardo — Spain’s most beloved heavy metal parody act — are veterans of the absurd. Expect them to deliver a setlist that zigzags from medieval madness to internet memes faster than a caffeinated ferret. Their lyrics will make you laugh, cry, and possibly question your life choices. One moment you’ll be chanting along to a hymn about technology addiction, the next you’ll find yourself headbanging to a reworked children’s song about social decay. It’s art. It’s chaos. It’s beautiful. Supporting act Golden Peluco are equally committed to the sacred craft of nonsense. Their name alone suggests a man who moonlights as both disco prophet and failed shampoo commercial model. Together, these two bands promise a night of wild costume changes, sing-along anthems, and enough decibels to exfoliate your soul. Doors open at 23:00 , with the madness officially kicking off at 23:30 . Advance tickets are 25€ (or 30€ at the door), but the first 50 brave souls to commit get in for 22€ — a small price to pay for eternal bragging rights and mild tinnitus. So, if you’re tired of the same old Christmas playlists and want to swap “Jingle Bells” for “Reno Renardo Blows Up the Internet,” mark your calendars. On December 20th, 16 Toneladas becomes ground zero for the most gloriously unhinged metal night of the holiday season. Long live the Reno. Long live the Peluco. And may your hangover be gentle. For information and tickets: 16 Toneladas

The unbreakable legend of national punk-rock will review his entire career - in La Polla Records, The Kagas, The Meas, Gatillazo and his current band Tropa do Carallo - in what will be his only concert in 2026 in the province of Valencia and Castellón. Pirata Beach Fest will hold its eighth edition on July 8, 9, 10 and 11, at the Polígono Benieto de Gandía. In addition to Evaristo, groups such as La Fúmiga, Molotov, The Tyets, Talco, Non Servium, Mägo de Oz, Benito Kamelas, Boikot, La Fuga, Els Catarres and Buhos are part of the first poster preview of its eighth edition, tune, many more to be announced! Evaristo will approach the Pirata Bech Fest of Gandía accompanied by his band of musicians with great history, who have been part of his most recognised projects at the state and international level, especially throughout America. His audacity, courage, commitment, provocative lyrics and his iconic voice have earned him great respect and recognition in the Spanish music scene. Evaristo not dead! It will be a fast, vibrant and intense concert; full of emotions, where the anthems of punk-rock that have marked several generations will sound - loud and loud... And with classics that are still in force after more than 40 years! Gandía will once again become the epicentre of live music with the celebration of the eighth edition of the Pirata Beach Fest. The festival, consolidated as one of the great summer musical events at the national level, being held on the Valencian coast, offers a brave, intense and diverse programming that covers genres such as rock, rap, mixing and fusion ... Rays and sparkles! Located in the Polígono Benieto, a few minutes from the beach, it combines music, festive atmosphere and the Mediterranean breeze, attracting thousands of "pirates" from all over the national territory in search of free, committed and peacefully vindictive fun. Among the more than thirty proposals already discovered in this first poster advance, the presence of Evaristo, La Fúmiga, Molotov, The Tyets, Talco, Non Servium, Mägo de Oz, Benito Kamelas, Boikot, La Fuga, Els Catarres and Buhos. Without a doubt, a spectacular and vibrant cast of groups and artists that will make the "pirate life" even better... Watch out for the patch! Segismundo Toxicómano, La Élite, Auxili, Los de Marras, Linaje, Biznaga, Itaca Band, Sons of Aguirre & Scila, Malifeta, En Tol Sarmiento, Reincidentes, Doctor Prats, Green Valley, El Último ke zierre, El Diluvi, Naina, Manifa, Me fritos & the gimme cheetos, La Sra. Tomasa, Pedro Pastor, Afónica Naranjo and El sombrero del abuelo complete this first advance of a Pirate Gandía Fest that every year works hard to improve itself in the artistic and organisational. Highlight one more year the important presence of Valencian groups in an unequivocal and faithful commitment of the Pirata Beach Fest for the scene of the best rock, rap and local miscegenation. For tickets and more information: Pirata Beach

There are concerts — and then there are industrial awakenings. On December 11th , Valencia’s Sala Moon will turn into a mechanized temple of noise as Nitzer Ebb — the godfathers of EBM (Electronic Body Music) — march back into Spain to deliver a sermon in rhythm, rage, and pure analog adrenaline. Presented by Sturm Promotions and 16 Toneladas , this isn’t some nostalgic synthpop night for museum dwellers. No, this is the real thing : raw, pulsing, militaristic body beats forged in Thatcher’s Britain and sharpened over decades of sweat-soaked warehouse floors. “Join in the chant,” they once commanded — and Valencia will obey. Nitzer Ebb don’t just perform; they invade. Expect strobe lights slicing through the fog, metallic percussion hitting like hammer blows, and that signature command-vocal bark from Douglas McCarthy that could still start a revolution in a Berlin basement. The air will vibrate with the ghosts of “Control I’m Here” , “Murderous” , and “Let Your Body Learn” — songs that still sound like blueprints for rebellion. And opening the gates to this industrial inferno: Spammerheads , the Spanish electronic agitators who’ve been quietly crafting a sound that’s more virus than music — distorted, infectious, impossible to ignore. They’re the perfect prelude to Nitzer Ebb’s mechanized gospel: think cyberpunk sweat, flashing LEDs, and an audience moving like a single organism under machine command. Valencia might be known for paella and sunshine, but for one December night it’s turning cold, hard, and beautifully brutal. The floor will shake, the synths will scream, and the faithful will dance like factory sparks in the dark. So lace up your combat boots, polish your leather, and leave your subtlety at home. December 11th, Sala Moon — the machines are coming, and they want to dance. For tickets: Nitzer Ebb

By the time the sun dipped behind the cranes of Valencia’s Marina Norte, Festardor had already transformed into a glorious madhouse of riffs, rebellion, and very questionable footwear choices. It smelled like beer, freedom, and the faint singe of someone’s eyebrows after one too many flare ignitions. Five bands, one night — and a crowd that looked ready to overthrow a small government. Let’s get one thing straight: no one expected the openers to torch the place so early. But Me Fritos and the Gimme Cheetos came out swinging like punk rock gremlins hopped up on orange dust. Fast, filthy, and funny, their set was a fistfight between surf-punk riffs and pure chaos. They sounded like The Ramones if they’d grown up in a kebab shop. The crowd didn’t stand still for a second — and neither did anyone’s beer. Then came the legends of Galician ska anarchy — Dakidarría.Their brass section hit like a freight train of fiesta, and the whole Marina turned into one massive, sweaty dance floor. The horns screamed revolution while the guitars preached joy — a socialist conga line for the soul. By the third song, shirts were optional and morals were negotiable. Lendakaris Muertos stormed the stage next — furious, fast, and funny as hell. Their set was a blur of pogo pits, Basque sarcasm, and 30-second anthems that hit like espresso shots of pure dissent. One moment they’re mocking the system, the next they’re mocking themselves, and the crowd loves every savage second. If sarcasm were an Olympic sport, these guys would have gold medals and restraining orders. Then came El Drogas, the elder statesman of Spanish rock fury, dressed like a pirate philosopher who’s seen too much and still wants more. His voice is gravel, his energy nuclear. Every lyric lands like a punch to the ribs, every riff smells faintly of history and whiskey. You could feel generations colliding in that crowd — punks, poets, and parents shouting the same choruses like it was mass at the Church of Rock & Roll. And just when it felt like the night couldn’t burn any hotter, Talco marched in and dropped a sonic bomb. The Italians turned the pier into a riot with horns blaring like sirens from a revolution that never ended. The crowd went ballistic — chanting, crowd-surfing, and spilling beer like a communion of the damned. “Bella Ciao” hit, and suddenly, we weren’t just at a festival — we were part of something bigger, louder, sweatier. By the time the amps shut down, Valencia Marina Norte was still shaking. The sea breeze carried the echoes of trumpets, laughter, and one last shout of ¡Festardor, cabrones! Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

By the time Talco hit the stage, the Valencian night was already boiling — that peculiar Mediterranean chaos, half salt, half sweat, and 100% cerveza. The Festardor crowd had been fed on punk riffs and political rage all day, but when these Italian ska-punk anarchists rolled in, everything ignited like a Molotov under a full moon. Talco don’t play gigs — they stage revolts. Horns blared like sirens in a street protest, guitars slashed through the sea air, and frontman Dema spat verses like a man possessed, preaching solidarity and defiance with every syllable. The band ripped through St. Pauli, Bella Ciao, La Torre, and Combat Circus with the precision of a marching band on speed. It was sweat, ska, and social fury in perfect sync — a brass-fueled riot made for the people, by the people. The crowd turned into one massive organism — bouncing, shouting, chanting slogans that blurred the line between gig and demonstration. Flares went off, flags waved, and beer rained from the sky like a baptism of rebellion. You could feel Festardor’s concrete quiver under the stomp of thousands of boots shouting “¡No pasarán!” Talco have always been the street poet laureates of Europe’s punk underground, but here in Valencia Marina Norte, they felt like prophets of the people. Every trumpet blast sounded like hope breaking chains. Every chorus was a middle finger to apathy. By the end, we weren’t watching a concert — we were part of a cause. Dema raised his fist, the crowd answered, and for a few furious, beautiful minutes, it felt like the revolution might actually dance its way into being. Talco didn’t just headline Festardor. They hijacked it! Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

November 4, 2025 | Emo’s, Austin TX It was an Auckland-meets-Austin night when The Beths headlined Emo’s, touring behind their fourth album, Straight Line Was a Lie. Released in August on ANTI- Records and once again self-produced, the album is filled with the usual concise hooks, restless guitars, and Elizabeth Stokes’ lyrics that undercut their brightness with quiet unease. Opening were fellow New Zealanders Phoebe Rings, making their first Austin appearance on their first-ever U.S. tour. “We’re still a bit jet-lagged,” said singer and keyboardist Crystal Choi, who added, to the delight of the crowd, that they’d already made a stop at Buc-ee’s. Before “Fading Star,” she mentioned someone once described their sound as “sleepy disco.” It fits: ethereal synths, restrained beats, and melodies that floated throughout the venue. All around, a fitting opener to the headlining act of the night. When The Beths walked on, they went straight into “Straight Line Was a Lie” and “No Joy.” The last time they played Austin, they were opening for Death Cab for Cutie and The Postal Service in 2023, bands that have perfected the “sad song that doesn’t sound like a sad song” delivery. The jangle of “No Joy” recalled the sunlit melancholy of Death Cab’s “No Sunlight,” but Stokes’ delivery was dryer, the humor sharper, the unease more self-aware. Halfway through, the band paused to trade introductions and plug their tour blog, breakfastandtravelupdates.com, where they’ve documented every show (and meal) since 2019. They also joked about skipping the Austin barbecue this round, a practical move for anyone who has to sit in a tour bus for hours on end. Stokes later played “Mother, Pray for Me” solo, a quiet moment that made the room stand still. The band returned for “Little Death,” “I’m Not Getting Excited,” “Expert in a Dying Field,” and “Take.” The songs were faster and leaner than their studio versions, ending the night on a high note. Before leaving, Stokes thanked the crowd in their trademark dry humor: “We know you have Tuesday options. Thanks for choosing The Beths.” A small, perfect send-off from a band that never makes performing look effortless. Words and photos: Victor Gonzalez

The night started like a hangover waiting to happen — the kind of electric chaos only Festardor can birth. The sea was breathing diesel and cheap lager, kids were already half-feral, and then Dakidarría stormed the stage like a socialist thunderclap in Doc Martens. This was war disguised as a concert — a brass-soaked, punk-drenched declaration from the Galician underground. The horns screamed like sirens from a sinking ship, guitars shredded through the humid night, and the frontman spat every lyric like it was the last transmission before the system collapsed. There was no divide between band and crowd — just one sweaty, unified mob throwing fists, beers, and maybe a few moral codes into the sky. When they tore into “Fogo ao Sistema”, you could practically hear the sound of corrupt governments trembling somewhere far away. The pit was a whirlpool of limbs and liberation — no phones, no influencers, just pure, glorious disorder. At one point, they slipped into a reggae groove — a strange, hazy interlude where everyone caught their breath and swayed like revolutionaries at a beach party. But soon enough, the calm snapped. The next blast of brass hit like a caffeine overdose, and we were right back in the eye of the storm. The air smelled of sweat, weed, and defiance. The Mediterranean wind carried the noise out to sea like a pirate broadcast, and for one cracked-out hour, Marina Norte belonged to Dakidarría — no sponsors, no pretense, just truth, volume, and rage set to rhythm. By the end, people were hugging strangers, screaming slogans, and wiping saltwater and beer from their faces. You couldn’t tell if the tears were from joy, exhaustion, or politics — probably all three. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

Valencia, brace yourself — the city’s getting its holiday jingle shaken and stirred by David Bisbal, and unless you already scored a ticket, you’re out in the cold. His “Todo Es Posible en Navidad – Gira 2025” stop at Roig Arena on December 6th is officially sold out , and that’s not just hype — it’s full-blown festive mania. Bisbal isn’t just singing carols. He’s detonating them. The man who gave Spain “Bulería” , “Ave María” , and a thousand perfectly timed hair flips is back with a sleigh full of pop energy and Latin soul. Expect sequins, snow machines, and enough vocal fireworks to light up the Mediterranean coast. This isn’t your average Christmas concert — it’s Christmas on caffeine , powered by Andalusian charm and arena-sized joy. Roig Arena, the new cathedral of sound in Valencia, will be dripping with tinsel, sweat, and euphoria as Bisbal turns the stage into his personal North Pole. Fans know what’s coming: he’ll croon, he’ll spin, he’ll shout “¡Vamos!” and ten thousand voices will answer back in glorious unison. It’s the kind of show that leaves you breathless, teary-eyed, and wondering how the hell a Christmas gig just turned into a full-blown fiesta. Tickets vanished faster than Santa on Red Bull, proving once again that Bisbal doesn’t just have fans — he has disciples. So if you missed out, grab your coat, find a hill near the Roig, and let the echoes of “Corazón Latino” drift through the Valencian night air. Because when Bisbal says “Todo es posible en Navidad” , he’s not kidding — miracles happen. Just not the miracle of extra tickets.

Festardor didn’t ease into the weekend — it got dropkicked straight into chaos by Me Fritos and the Gimme Cheetos, the most gloriously unhinged opening act Valencia Marina Norte has seen in years. Before the sun even dipped, these punk freaks came roaring out of the speakers like a car crash set to a 200-BPM beat — loud, snotty, and beautifully stupid in all the right ways. The frontman strutted the stage like a man who’d sold his soul for a bag of riffs and a can of cheap beer. He screamed, sneered, and spat through every verse like it owed him money, while the band behind him hammered out a wall of distortion so thick you could spread it on toast. It wasn’t tight — it was dangerous, raw, and exactly what Festardor needed to wake the hell up. The crowd went from half-curious to fully feral by the second song. Beer cups flew, heads banged, and everyone looked like survivors of a glorious sonic explosion. By the time they staggered off stage, they had done the impossible: they made the early slot feel like the main event. Pure, greasy, punk-rock theatre — equal parts garage fire, comedy act, and riot. Filthy, fast, and full of flavor. Me Fritos and the Gimme Cheetos turned Festardor’s opening slot into a mosh pit breakfast buffet. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

On 24 January 2026, Valencia is set to shake off the winter chill with a surge of raw emotion, electrifying rock and unforgettable melody. That’s when Fito & Fitipaldis—one of Spain’s most beloved rock ensembles—take the stage at the brand-new Roig Arena as part of their much-anticipated Aullidos Tour. This isn’t just a concert: it’s a cultural moment, a reunion with a band that has soundtracked generations and now comes roaring back into the spotlight. For more than 25 years, Fito & Fitipaldis have been more than a band—they’ve been storytellers of Spanish rock. Led by the charismatic Fito Cabrales, their music blends gritty rock, blues-tinged soul, flamenco-tinged hues and poetic storytelling that feels both personal and universal. Songs like “Soldadito marinero”, “La casa por el tejado” and “Por la boca vive el pez” aren’t just hits—they’re anthems that resonate across generations. Their lyrics channel life’s contradictions—vulnerability and defiance, love and regret, joy and aching nostalgia—making every performance feel like a heartfelt conversation with the crowd. The Aullidos Tour 25/26 marks Fito & Fitipaldis’ return to live performance after more than two and a half years away from the road, a hiatus that made fans’ hearts grow only hungrier for their return. This extensive Spanish tour spans 28 cities from Santander to Valencia and beyond, a testament to the band’s enduring appeal and the breadth of their fanbase. Valencia’s stop at Roig Arena sits at the heart of this powerful run, inviting old fans and new listeners alike to share in a night of celebrated classics and fresh material. While Fito & Fitipaldis have been synonymous with beloved hits for decades, the Aullidos Tour promises something else: a first live encounter with material from their eagerly anticipated eighth studio album, El monte de los aullidos, scheduled for release in autumn 2025. Fans can expect a tapestry of songs that not only honour the band’s roots in rock but also reflect deeper emotional currents—innovative riffs, storytelling lyricism, and the raw heart that has always defined Fito’s work. Whether it’s a timeless crowd favourite or one of the new tracks, each song feels like part of a shared history between the band and their audience. Roig Arena isn’t just another concert hall—it’s Valencia’s newest multi-use venue destined to become a cultural landmark. Backed by ambitious design and top-tier acoustics, the arena promises an immersive concert experience capable of elevating every guitar riff and vocal note. For Fito & Fitipaldis, performing here is symbolic: not just a gig, but a statement of arrival. It’s a stage that matches the magnitude of their return, and its location in the heart of Valencia ties the city deeper into Spain’s thriving live music circuit. For tickets and more information: Roig Arena

Right from the first crack of the drum and the scratch of the guitar, “ Festín de Cuervos ” feels like someone lit a torch in a cage and tossed in a handful of raven feathers just for the hell of it. Fatiga isn’t playing it safe — this is art with claws. The atmosphere: gritty, unpolished, urgent. The vocals lean ragged, as if the singer’s throat has been chafed by years of shouting truths no-one else wants to hear. It’s raw, wounded but defiant — a voice that has seen shit and still wants to scream. The instrumentation backs it up: jagged chords, a bass line that prowls, drums that thump like a heart preparing for the kill. Lyrically, the song takes flying-vulture imagery and turns it inside out: vultures becoming carrion kings, circling the carcass of a world that’s let them feast. The title — Festín de Cuervos — suggests both a banquet and a reckoning. It’s the sound of scavengers that weren’t invited, arriving anyway, and shaking the table. There’s an undercurrent of betrayal, survival, the idea that when the empire falls, the scavengers become the sovereigns. Fatiga has crafted a cinematic spine to the track: you can almost smell the burnt-out urban wasteland, hear the iron taste of twilight in the air. The chorus hits like a rallying cry: something between “we are the leftover soldiers” and “we are the ones you forgot.” The bridge tosses in a sudden shift — a minor key descent, acoustic strings or maybe synthesized equivalents, a hush before the last wave of noise hits. “Festín de Cuervos” is a triumph for Fatiga — a track that doesn’t just sound angry, desperate or hungry, it feels it. It doesn’t offer solace; it offers recognition: that sometimes you are the carrion, sometimes the vulture, and sometimes the feast itself. It invites you to join the table or watch it burn. If you’re up for something fierce, uncompromising, and electric, this is your track. Don’t listen when you’re half-asleep. Listen when you’re alive. Have a listen here: Fatiga Spotify and check out the band here: Fatiga

The now legendary Valencian group will return to their favourite festival to say goodbye, offering an exclusive concert with many invited artists on a night that, without a doubt, will be historic. Pirata Beach Fest will hold its eighth edition on July 8, 9, 10 and 11, at the Polígono Benieto de Gandía. In addition to La Fúmiga, groups such as Molotov, The Tyets, Talco, Non Servium, Mägo de Oz, Benito Kamelas, Boikot, La Fuga, Els Catarres and Buhos are part of the first poster preview of its eighth edition, tune, there are many more to be announced! "WE ARE BACK TO SAY GOODBYE," this is how La Fúmiga has announced a unique and, therefore very special concert, one of those that we will remember all our lives. They will offer an intense show, full of surprises and with many guest artists who will come to share with the iconic Alzira band a night that promises to be historic in a festival that, as they say: "It has taken care of us since the first year and where we could not miss this farewell tour. See you as always at the Pirata Beach Fest, from July 8 to 11!" Tickets will be available next Sunday, November 11, at 12 noon, on the festival's website. It will be an unrepeatable party! And as they say La Fúmiga: "See you at the Pirate, with more emotions and more energy than ever to say goodbye properly with a unique concert!" It is one of the most beloved, celebrated and relevant groups of contemporary Valencian music. Thirteen years of career, more than 500 concerts, a great collection of record hits and two gold discs are a thrun. His concert at the Pirata Beach Fest 2026 is more than just a farewell. It will be the celebration of the great songs of the Valencian group that has marked an entire generation. The band will offer special and unique, will have the collaboration of groups of friends. It will be a tribute to Valencian popular music. La Fúmiga says goodbye to the stage at its most popular time, after a tour of festivals and concerts in 2025. Gandía will once again become the epicentre of live music with the celebration of the eighth edition of the Pirata Beach Fest. The festival, consolidated as one of the great summer musical events at the national level, being held on the Valencian coast, offers a brave, intense and diverse programming that covers genres such as rock, rap, mixing and fusion ... Rays and sparkles! Located in the Polígono Benieto, a few minutes from the beach, it combines music, festive atmosphere and the Mediterranean breeze, attracting thousands of "pirates" from all over the national territory in search of free, committed and peacefully vindictive fun. Among the more than thirty proposals already discovered in this first poster preview, the presence of La Fúmiga, Molotov, The Tyets, Talco, Non Servium, Mägo de Oz, Benito Kamelas, Boikot, La Fuga, Els Catarres and Buhos is unleashed. Without a doubt, a spectacular and vibrant cast of groups and artists who will make the "pirate life" even better... Watch out for the patch! Segismundo Toxicómano, La Élite, Auxili, Los de Marras, Linaje, Biznaga, Itaca Band, Sons of Aguirre & Scila, Malifeta, En Tol Sarmiento, Reincidentes, Doctor Prats, Green Valley, El Último ke zierre, El Diluvi, Naina, Manifa, Me fritos & the gimme cheetos, La Sra. Tomasa, Pedro Pastor, Afónica Naranjo and El sombrero del abuelo complete this first advance of a Pirate Gandía Fest that every year works hard to improve itself in the artistic and organisational. For more information: Pirata Gandia