There are music festivals, and then there is Gazpatxo Rock, the annual February migration to Ayora where thousands of people apparently decide that the most sensible way to spend a winter weekend is to drive into the Valencian interior, eat enormous quantities of local gazpacho, drink whatever is available, sleep in a tent and spend the rest of the day being battered senseless by some of the loudest and most politically charged rock and punk bands in the country. Nobody should need to explain why this is a good idea. On Saturday, February 20, 2027, Ayora will once again become the unlikely epicentre of Spanish punk and rock when Gazpatxo Rock returns with a lineup that looks less like a festival programme and more like somebody emptied an entire Spanish alternative-rock record collection onto the floor and decided to book every band that landed face-up. Soziedad Alkoholika, Narco, Reincidentes, Kaotiko, Manifa, KOP, Momo, Deaf Devils and Combo Calada, with ELE DJ also on the bill, are heading for Ayora, and if you have ever wondered what happens when a relatively small Valencian town becomes temporarily occupied by thousands of rock fans with loud music in their heads and very little interest in going home early, this is your opportunity to find out. Gazpatxo Rock has always operated on a different frequency from the giant corporate festivals. There is no need for artificial glamour here because the whole attraction is the opposite: a proper community festival built around music, food, friendship and the glorious sense that everyone has temporarily escaped normal life. The festival has become one of the country's most distinctive winter gatherings, combining a heavyweight national punk and rock bill with the very specific traditions of Ayora, including its famous popular gazpacho, free camping, a welcome party and the inevitable afterparty when the official programme finally gives up and admits defeat. And this year's lineup is seriously dangerous. At the top of the bill are Soziedad Alkoholika, a band who have never sounded particularly interested in making anybody comfortable. Their mixture of hardcore, metal and punk has made them one of the most formidable live acts in the Spanish alternative scene, and their appearance at Gazpatxo Rock feels almost surgically designed for an audience that has spent the entire day drinking, eating and waiting for the volume to become unreasonable. Then comes Narco, who bring their own beautifully warped collision of punk, metal, hip-hop and electronic aggression. Narco have always had the ability to make heavy music sound slightly unhinged without losing the groove, and that makes them another perfect fit for a festival where genre boundaries are treated more as suggestions than rules. But Gazpatxo isn't simply about putting two big names at the top of a poster and filling the gaps underneath. Reincidentesare being honoured with the festival's traditional Cuchara de Oro, adding a particularly significant moment to the 2027 edition. After decades of turning political anger, social observation and everyday life into songs that have become part of the vocabulary of Spanish rock, Reincidentes have earned the sort of status where the audience doesn't merely know the songs — they have lived with them. Expect the kind of set where the microphone may as well be handed to the crowd because half the field will already know every bloody word. Kaotiko bring another shot of high-energy punk rock, while Manifa add their own rough-edged, street-level attack to a bill that clearly has no intention of becoming comfortable. KOP push the political hardcore element even further, and then you've got Momo and Deaf Devils, ensuring there is enough variation across the day to stop the whole thing becoming one enormous wall of distortion. And then there is Combo Calada, who are scheduled to play one of their final concerts before their farewell. That gives their appearance a completely different emotional weight. There is something strange and powerful about watching a band knowing that the clock is running down, because every chorus suddenly carries a little more history and every final song feels like somebody is quietly putting the lid on a chapter. Which brings us to the real reason Gazpatxo Rock works so well. The people. You can book the greatest punk bands in Spain, but a festival becomes something else entirely when the audience starts treating it as an annual pilgrimage. Gazpatxo has that quality. People return because they know somebody there, because they met somebody there the year before, because they remember a particular gig, because they want to eat the gazpacho, because camping after a twelve-hour punk marathon seems like a perfectly rational thing to do, or simply because they have discovered that February in Ayora is considerably more fun when several thousand people are making a ridiculous amount of noise together. The popular Gazpatxá is part of the DNA of the event, with the 2027 edition once again offering the traditional communal meal accompanied by Ela DJ. There will also be free camping, a welcome party before the festival and an official afterparty once the main event finishes. In other words, the organisers appear to have taken the concept of stopping and thrown it directly into the nearest ditch. That combination of food and punk is one of the things that makes Gazpatxo so gloriously Valencian. You can spend the afternoon eating a traditional dish in the company of hundreds of rock fans and then, a few hours later, find yourself standing in front of Soziedad Alkoholika wondering how exactly the day escalated to this point. The answer is usually another beer. And another band. And another friend shouting that you absolutely have to come and see this one. The festival's own information also makes it clear that the concerts are held inside a large tent, which is a considerable advantage when February decides to remind everyone that winter exists. There is free camping, free parking subject to availability, food stalls including vegan and vegetarian options, and the ability to leave and re-enter the festival with your wristband. So essentially, Gazpatxo has thought of everything except the consequences. And those consequences are likely to arrive sometime around breakfast. This is why the festival matters. In an era when so much live music has become a carefully managed experience, Gazpatxo still feels like something built by people who actually understand why rock music communities exist in the first place. It is noisy, political, funny, communal and occasionally chaotic, but underneath all of that is a very simple idea: get a load of people who love this music into the same place and give them a reason to stay together for an entire day. The music provides the soundtrack, but the festival is really about the connections between the songs. You might arrive specifically for Reincidentes and leave talking about a band you had never heard before. You might come for Narco and end up discovering Deaf Devils. You might have spent years listening to Soziedad Alkoholika through headphones and suddenly find yourself standing in the middle of several thousand people screaming the same words back at the stage. That is the difference between listening to music and being inside it. And Gazpatxo is very good at putting you inside it. By the time the evening gets properly dark over Ayora, the temperature will have dropped outside, but inside that tent things should be considerably warmer. The bass will be shaking the floor, guitars will be scraping against the ceiling and somebody will almost certainly be trying to convince you that there is still time for one more drink, one more band and one more trip to the mosh pit. There probably isn't. You should go anyway.... Because Gazpatxo Rock 2027 isn't trying to be the biggest festival in Spain. It doesn't need to be. Its strength is that it has built its own little universe in Ayora, one where punk still sounds angry, rock still sounds dangerous, food is part of the cultural experience and nobody seems particularly interested in leaving before the last amplifier has been switched off. On February 20, that universe opens again. Soziedad Alkoholika. Narco. Reincidentes. Kaotiko. Manifa. KOP. Momo. Deaf Devils. Combo Calada. ELE DJ. Add the gazpacho, the camping, the welcome party, the afterparty and several thousand people who have apparently decided that February is an excellent month for a punk-rock pilgrimage, and you've got the ingredients for one hell of a day. Ayora is waiting. The amplifiers are waiting. The gazpacho is waiting. And somewhere around three in the morning, when the last chord finally disappears into the Valencian night and everyone is standing around looking slightly destroyed, there will probably be somebody already talking about next year. For tickets and more information: Gazpatxo Rock

Forget the polite autumn concert calendar. Forget the carefully curated playlists, the identikit indie bands and anyone who thinks punk is something that happened to music sometime around 1977. On Saturday, November 21, 2026, Rock a Foc comes crashing back into Valencia, taking over La Rambleta from 9:30pm until 3:30am for six hours of guitars, attitude, sweat, sarcasm, social commentary and the sort of collective madness that makes underground rock scenes worth fighting for. This isn't really a festival in the polished, corporate sense of the word. It is closer to a six-hour family argument conducted at high volume. And everyone is invited. At the top of the bill sit El Último Ke Zierre (EUKZ), the Burriana punk-rock veterans who have spent decades turning social frustration, political anger and everyday Spanish life into songs built for people to scream back at the stage. Their longevity isn't an accident. EUKZ have survived because their music still has teeth, and because their audiences have never stopped finding themselves somewhere inside those battered guitars and shouted lyrics. Putting them into La Rambleta after midnight is the kind of idea that makes perfect sense. This is where things should get loud. But Rock a Foc isn't simply about giving the old guard another opportunity to wave the punk flag. Orkesta Paraíso arrive with their own combustible mixture of rock attitude and live energy, bringing another colour to a bill that refuses to sit comfortably in one musical box. Then there's A Tercio Pelao, bringing a rougher, street-level edge to proceedings. Their appeal lies in the poetry of the everyday — the frustrations, absurdities and small victories that give Spanish rock its particular flavour. This is music that doesn't need to pretend to be glamorous because it knows exactly where it came from. And then you've got Navajazo por un Chándal. Even the name sounds like something that should come with a warning from the local authorities. Their satirical, sharp-edged punk is precisely the kind of thing Rock a Foc needs: irreverent, energetic and entirely uninterested in behaving itself. If the evening starts with everyone standing politely at the back, don't expect that situation to survive for long. This is what underground music is supposed to look like There is something increasingly valuable about events like Rock a Foc. While the music industry continues to polish everything until it gleams, grassroots punk still operates on a wonderfully primitive equation: get some people in a room, plug in some amplifiers, say something that matters and see what happens. No algorithm can replicate that. No TikTok campaign can manufacture it. And no corporate marketing department can quite understand why a room full of sweaty strangers screaming the same chorus at two in the morning can feel like an act of resistance. That's the real attraction here. Rock a Foc is a meeting point for Valencia's rock community — the musicians, punters, photographers, promoters, old punks, new punks, people who have been buying records since before Spotify existed and teenagers discovering that guitars can still be dangerous. La Rambleta provides the walls. The bands provide the ammunition. The audience provides the rest. And six hours is plenty of time for things to get gloriously messy. November in Valencia. Punk o'clock. The festival runs from 9:30pm until 3:30am, which means this isn't an event for people planning to be tucked up in bed before midnight. By the time the rest of Valencia is beginning to wind down, Rock a Foc should be hitting its stride. Rock a Foc represents the part of Valencia's music culture that refuses to disappear — the stubborn, noisy, funny, pissed-off, gloriously imperfect side that keeps producing bands because somebody somewhere still believes a guitar, a microphone and a good song can change the temperature of a room. On November 21, four very different bands get six hours to prove it. EUKZ. Orkesta Paraíso. A Tercio Pelao. Navajazo por un Chándal. Six hours of punk, rock and beautifully questionable life choices. Rock a Foc is back. Valencia, bring earplugs — and leave your dignity at the door. For tickets and more information: La Rambleta

The guitars are getting tuned, the harmonies are warming up and Teenage Fanclub are heading back to Spain — with a particularly tasty stop at Sala Moon in València on October 16. The Scottish indie legends arrive in the middle of an extensive Spanish tour that sees them travelling from San Fernando to Barcelona, bringing with them a new album, a career stacked with classic songs and a rather brilliant addition to the travelling party: Euros Childs. For fans of Teenage Fanclub, Childs is hardly a random support act. The Welsh musician is currently a fully fledged member of the band, contributing keyboards and vocals, touring alongside them and appearing on their three most recent studio albums. This tour, however, gives Valencian audiences the chance to see him step out from behind the keyboards and showcase his own considerable songwriting talents. And that makes the Moon date particularly appealing. Childs first made his mark as the frontman of Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, one of the strangest and most charming bands to emerge from the Welsh scene during the 1990s. Since launching his solo career with Chops in 2006, he has pursued an astonishingly prolific path, releasing music through his own National Elf label and accumulating an impressive 21-album catalogue. His recent run — Thrips (2023), Beehive Beach (2024) and A-Pop (2025) — underlines just how fertile that creative brain remains. Seeing him open for a band he now plays with is a neat bit of musical circularity. But Teenage Fanclub have their own new chapter arriving at almost exactly the same time. Their new album Do Not Dare To Dream lands on October 9 via Merge Records, just days into the Spanish run. The timing couldn't be better for the València show, with new material landing fresh while the band take a deep dive into the catalogue that made them one of alternative rock's most enduring melodic forces. The early evidence is already promising. Singles ‘Day In The Sun’ and ‘There Was You’ suggest that the band's trademark combination of ringing guitars, beautifully worn-in harmonies and deceptively simple songwriting remains firmly intact. And that's the thing about Teenage Fanclub: they never needed to shout. Since Bandwagonesque arrived in 1991, followed by landmarks including Grand Prix and Songs From Northern Britain, the Glasgow band have built a catalogue that understands the power of a great melody without ever treating melody as something lightweight. Their music carries echoes of Big Star, Badfinger and The Byrds, but their particular blend of guitar pop, folk-rock warmth and alternative cool is unmistakably their own. For València, October 16 at Moon offers something more than another date on a nostalgia-heavy reunion circuit. Teenage Fanclub are arriving with new music, a rejuvenated creative streak and Euros Childs along for the ride, while still carrying decades of songs that have become touchstones for generations of guitar-pop obsessives. And with the Oviedo show already sold out, the message from elsewhere in Spain is pretty clear: this tour is moving fast. This could be one of those October nights when guitar music feels exactly right again. For tickets and more information: Just Life

Sunday night in Valencia and Rawayana clearly had no intention of letting the weekend end quietly. More than 10,000 people packed the Roig Arena for the Venezuelan band's only Valencia date on the ¿Dónde Está el After? World Tour, and for almost three hours the place became a giant, bouncing, singing, slightly psychedelic Caribbean party. Calling Rawayana's sound trippy pop is usually the easiest way to explain the cocktail of reggae, soul, pop and Caribbean rhythms, but hearing it at this scale makes the description feel almost too neat. Their music is loose, warm and gloriously difficult to keep still to. The crowd understood that immediately. The opening run of ‘Soltero’, ‘Bienvenidos a la Tierra’ and ‘Dame Un Break’ got the night moving, but the arrival of Beto Montenegro brought the first serious eruption of noise from the floor. From there, Rawayana kept shifting gears without ever losing the thread, moving between laid-back grooves and full-on singalong territory with the confidence of a band completely comfortable in its own skin. ‘Binikini’, their collaboration with Danny Ocean, was one of those moments when 10,000 voices suddenly become part of the arrangement. ‘Feriado’, the Latin Grammy-winning Best Pop Song, landed with equal force, while ‘Hora Loca’pushed the Caribbean influence further into the foreground. Then Rawayana pulled a particularly smart move: they left the main stage behind and appeared on a second stage in the middle of the arena. Suddenly the scale changed. The enormous venue became something much more intimate, with ‘Conga’, ‘Bendito’, ‘Coronando’ and ‘Veneka’ turning the centre of the crowd into a giant communal dancefloor. It was a reminder that for all the production and spectacle surrounding a show of this size, Rawayana's greatest weapon remains the songs themselves — music designed to be shared rather than simply watched. The whole production played into the band's after concept, too. The visuals, movement between stages and constant sense of continuation made the concert feel less like a set with a beginning and an end and more like one long night refusing to call time. By the time they returned to the main stage for ‘Amor de contrabando’, ‘Inglés en Miami’ and ‘Se vienen cositas’, the audience had already been on a three-hour journey and wasn't particularly interested in getting off. What makes Rawayana's current moment so interesting is the way they have managed to take something deeply rooted in Latin American and Caribbean musical culture and give it a distinctly modern, international identity without sanding away its personality. There is polish here, certainly, but also plenty of looseness, humour and human warmth. At Roig Arena, that combination proved formidable. 10,000-plus people. Three hours. One giant after. And when Rawayana finally walked off, Valencia still sounded like it was somewhere in the middle of the party.

Dee Holt’s forthcoming EP "Makes Me Wonder" feels like the sound of an artist finally getting comfortable with uncertainty. Rather than chasing easy answers or dressing emotional confusion in glossy pop clichés, the Montreal indie-pop artist leans into the messier stuff: doubt, anxiety, relationships, grief and the uncomfortable business of figuring yourself out while everyone else seems to have a plan. That gives "Makes Me Wonder" its real strength. Across its songs, Holt moves beyond the immediate bedroom-pop instincts of her earlier releases and into something more considered, spacious and emotionally assured. The melodies remain accessible, but there is considerably more weight behind them. This is pop music with its sleeves rolled up. The already released ‘"Figure It Out" sets the tone beautifully, capturing that familiar feeling of desperately trying to make sense of where you're heading while knowing there probably isn't a map. "Relapse" takes things somewhere more intimate, while "How About You", her latest collaboration with German songwriter Chris James, provides a cathartic moment of its own — the musical equivalent of keeping your head together while everything around you threatens to fall apart. Then comes "A Slow Goodbye", the emotional heavyweight. Written as a tribute to her late grandfather and incorporating his voice in the outro, it sounds like the point where the polished pop exterior drops away completely. It is personal without becoming overly sentimental, and devastating precisely because Holt allows the emotion to breathe. There is warmth here, too. "Feels Like Home" brings a bittersweet sense of acceptance, while "Submarine’" completes a collection that feels less interested in neatly tying everything up than acknowledging that growing up is an ongoing process. That honesty is what makes holt interesting. Her music has already found its way onto Netflix series including "My Life with the Walter Boys", earned attention from Billboard and Teen Vogue, and taken her onto major festival stages alongside artists including Noah Kahan and Marren Morris. Yet makes me wonder sounds like an artist resisting the temptation to simply repeat what worked. Instead, she is pushing forward. There is a refreshing independence running through the whole project, from the international collaborations with Chris James, Tyler Skye, Tonino Speciale and Frida Amundsen to Holt's distinctive hand-drawn visual world. Nothing feels overly manufactured. Even when the production expands, the songs remain rooted in her own perspective. And that's ultimately why "Makes Me Wonder" works: it doesn't pretend Dee Holt has everything figured out. It sounds like she doesn't — and she's perfectly okay with that. For more information: Dee Holt

Round One has barely cooled down, and already Hard Rock Rising is back at Hard Rock Cafe Valencia this Wednesday, September 9, with three more acts ready to put their songs, nerves and stagecraft on the line. After last week’s opening round delivered plenty of drama — including Jhay Onex pulling out before the show, strong performances from Nohe and Sita Rizzi, and Sita ultimately taking the public vote — the pressure now shifts to Moscow, City Of Fury and Horrorwolf. And this is no ordinary battle-of-the-bands pub night. Hard Rock Rising is an international competition spanning 34 countries and 64 Hard Rock Cafes, giving emerging artists a genuine route beyond their home city. In Valencia, nine acts are fighting through three elimination rounds before the September 23 final produces the local champion. The stakes are considerably bigger than a bit of bragging rights. The Valencia winner progresses into the global competition, with the eventual international winner in line for a professional recording session at Coke Studio L.A. Live, music distribution, a performance at Hard Rock Orlando, a $10,000 cash prize and a stack of Marshall gear. Suddenly, getting up on stage on a Wednesday night looks like a rather serious career opportunity. But before anyone starts thinking about Los Angeles, Orlando or ten grand, there is a much more immediate problem: winning the room. Because, once again, the audience is the jury. Fans will be voting for the artists on musicianship, vocal talent, originality, stage presence and fan support, meaning this competition isn't decided by a panel hiding behind a table. The people standing in front of the stage get to have their say. Moscow. City Of Fury. Horrorwolf. Three acts. One ticket forward. Moscow arrive looking every inch the kind of band that belongs in a Hard Rock Rising showdown, while City Of Furywill be looking to build on the momentum surrounding their current Valencia run. Horrorwolf, meanwhile, bring a darker, heavier visual presence to a bill that promises plenty of contrast. That's one of the most interesting things about the competition so far: there isn't a single formula for winning. Last week demonstrated that personality, connection and performance matter just as much as technical ability. Sita Rizzi understood the assignment and walked away with the public vote. This week, the others have to figure out their own version of the same equation. And the crowd will be watching. Hard Rock Rising Round Two takes place at Hard Rock Cafe Valencia on Wednesday, September 9, from 8pm to 10pm. Three bands. One room. One audience holding the voting power. Valencia, get your voting fingers ready. Round Two is coming — and two bands are going home.

Thursday night in Carcaixent is about to get a serious dose of old-school swagger when Midnight Train Trio rolls into El Cafè de la Plaça for a 20:30 show built around the blues, rock’n’roll and classic sounds of the 1950s and 60s. And this is exactly the kind of gig that makes El Café such a good fit. Forget giant stages and ridiculous production. This is music stripped back to the essentials: guitar, trumpet, bass, groove and songs that have survived because they still know how to move a room. The trio features Will McCarthy on guitar and vocals, Stefano Cecci on trumpet, and Rafa Arriaza on electric bass, a combination that promises plenty of room for blues grit, rock’n’roll swing and the kind of loose, intimate playing that works beautifully in a venue like this. The poster itself looks like it has been dragged out of some forgotten American roadside bar, dusted down and given a second life in Carcaixent — and the music follows the same philosophy. Expect classic blues and rock’n’roll from an era when three minutes and a killer riff could change everything. There should be plenty of space for the musicians to stretch their legs, too. McCarthy's guitar sits at the heart of the operation, with Cecci's trumpet adding that smoky, late-night punch while Arriaza keeps the whole train moving underneath. It is a deliberately traditional setup, but traditional doesn't mean tame. Quite the opposite. There is something particularly satisfying about hearing this music in a small room where you can actually see the musicians working. The bends, the breathing, the little exchanges between players — all the stuff that gets swallowed by a huge concert production suddenly becomes part of the show. And then there is El Café itself. Under Enric's stewardship, the Carcaixent venue has increasingly become one of those places where live music feels like part of the community rather than an occasional event bolted onto a bar. Previous lunchtime sessions have brought together musicians, locals, music obsessives and curious passers-by in exactly the sort of relaxed atmosphere that makes the venue special. Thursday's show shifts things into the evening, but the principle remains the same: good musicians, close quarters, cold drinks and absolutely nowhere to hide behind a lighting rig. The choice of repertoire should make this one particularly appealing for anyone who believes rock'n'roll didn't begin with stadiums and laser shows. This is the music of smoky bars, jukeboxes, dance floors and battered records — blues foundations feeding directly into the rock revolution. Midnight Train Trio arrive at El Café on Thursday 10 September at 20:30. If the poster is anything to go by, this isn't going to be a museum piece dressed up as a gig. It should be a proper night of roots, rhythm and rock'n'roll — the sort of small-room show where the distance between band and audience disappears and everybody ends up riding the same train. Next stop: Carcaixent.

Sunday lunchtime in Carcaixent. Paella waiting. Cold drinks flowing. A packed El Café and Òscar Briz standing in front of a room full of people who clearly came to do more than listen. They came to sing. From the opening notes, this felt less like a conventional gig and more like a musical family gathering that just happened to have one of Valencia’s most enduring songwriters at its centre. Briz, joined by his trio, looked genuinely moved by the response, while the crowd responded to song after song with the sort of enthusiasm you simply cannot manufacture. And given what Briz has been through recently, there was an extra emotional weight hanging over the afternoon. Only days earlier, thieves had stolen two of his guitars — a Godin LGX SA and a Rickenbacker 330 FG — instruments that aren't simply expensive objects but part of the machinery of his working life. Yet here he was, back on stage, playing, laughing, singing and doing what musicians do when life decides to kick them in the teeth: carrying on. If anything, the circumstances seemed to make the performance feel even more personal. The room sang with him. Not politely, not occasionally, but properly — voices bouncing around the walls as familiar songs turned into communal property. There was emotion everywhere, particularly in the quieter moments, when Briz's songwriting was allowed to breathe and the audience seemed to hang on every word. Then came The Waterboys’ “Fisherman’s Blues”, a beautiful curveball that fitted the afternoon perfectly. Briz and the trio gave it the kind of treatment that made you forget for a moment that you were sitting in a café in Carcaixent. It felt like one of those songs that had always belonged in this room, surrounded by people who knew every word. And perhaps that's the secret of El Café. Enric Casassús has created something here that goes beyond putting bands on a stage. The venue has become a genuine grassroots music hub, a place where musicians, neighbours, old friends and complete strangers can sit around the same tables, share food, swap stories and listen to live music without the invisible wall that often exists between performer and audience. The lunchtime format only strengthens it. There is something wonderfully un-rock'n'roll about playing a gig before lunch and then sitting down for paella afterwards — until you realise that this is exactly what live music should feel like. No VIP barriers. No corporate polish. No giant production. Just people, songs, food, conversation and a room full of humanity. For Briz, it was also a statement. The guitars may have been stolen, but the music wasn't. And watching a packed El Café sing those songs back to him, there was a powerful sense that whatever had been taken, the community wasn't about to let the music disappear with it. That's what made this particular Sunday special. It wasn't simply a good performance by a veteran Valencian songwriter. It was a room full of people quietly saying: we've got your back. Music, after all, is supposed to bring people together. At El Café, it actually does. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

The Waterboys have never been particularly interested in staying in their lane. Folk? Rock? Celtic psychedelia? Americana? A bit of everything, usually played loudly and with enough conviction to make genre classifications look increasingly ridiculous. At Roig Arena in Valencia last night, Mike Scott and his travelling band of musical renegades turned their Fisherman’s Blues Revue into something considerably more entertaining than a trip down memory lane: a rowdy, beautiful, gloriously unpredictable celebration of what happens when great songs refuse to grow old. The opening was anything but tentative. “Don’t Bang The Drum” kicked the doors open before “A Girl Called Johnny” sent the volume north. Then came “The Whole Of The Moon” and the arena erupted into one gigantic chorus. It is one of those songs that has somehow escaped its own era completely; remove the eighties production gloss and it still stands there, enormous and slightly unhinged, while several thousand people happily scream every word back at Mike Scott. And Scott looked like he was having a bloody good time. There is something wonderfully contrary about The Waterboys. At an age when many artists of their vintage are carefully polishing the family silver, Scott continues to rummage around in the attic, pull out old songs, shake the dust off them and throw them back into the room. “The Raggle Taggle Gypsy” brought the first real taste of the band's Celtic side, followed by the magnificent “Sweet Thing / Blackbird / Wild Jig”, where violin, keyboards and guitars collided in precisely the sort of glorious mess that has always made The Waterboys so difficult — and so rewarding — to categorise. The centre of gravity, though, was inevitably Fisherman’s Blues. Released in 1988, the album represented Scott's great escape from conventional rock and into Irish folk, traditional music and the deep well of roots Americana. Nearly four decades later, those songs haven't become museum pieces. They still feel loose around the edges, still capable of taking a left turn without warning, still alive enough to make an arena full of people forget they're sitting in an arena. Then Steve Earle walked on. Suddenly this was less Celtic folk-rock revue and more a meeting of two musical universes that have always been closer than they first appear. Earle and Scott tore through “Copperhead Road”, “Guitar Town” and “My Old Friend The Blues”, with the Waterboys providing a suitably muscular backing band. Earle's battered Americana and Scott's Celtic romanticism made surprisingly perfect bedfellows, while Steve Wickham's violin provided the thread connecting the whole strange, sprawling operation. There were quieter moments, naturally. “The Stolen Child” pulled the room down into something more intimate, while newer material such as “Come Back To Galway” showed that Scott isn't simply touring the past. The old songs may be the reason people bought the tickets, but the musical conversation is still happening in the present. Then the party started again. “Bang On The Ear” was all swagger and mischief. “Galway Girl” pushed the Roig Arena further towards full-blown Celtic knees-up territory, and suddenly the idea of this being a carefully curated legacy show became laughable. This was a band still capable of making a large room feel gloriously out of control. And then, inevitably, came “Fisherman’s Blues”. You could almost feel the song arriving before the first notes landed. The reaction was huge, but what made it work wasn't simply nostalgia. The song still possesses that peculiar Waterboys magic: romantic without becoming sentimental, earthy without losing its grandeur, and just scruffy enough around the edges to avoid becoming a stadium anthem by committee. The entire arena sang it back to Scott, and for once the cliché about communal concert moments actually seemed justified. The final move — “Will The Circle Be Unbroken”, with Scott and Earle together — brought the evening neatly back to its roots. A traditional song, two veteran musicians, one very large room and a crowd that had spent the night travelling from Scotland and Ireland to Nashville and back again without ever leaving Valencia. The Waterboys don't sound like a band preserving its past. They sound like a band still arguing with it. That distinction matters. Because while Fisherman’s Blues may have provided the headline, Thursday night's show wasn't really about 1988. It was about the strange, stubborn life these songs have acquired since then — and the fact that Mike Scott still knows exactly how to let them off the leash. The Roig Arena may be built for massive modern spectacles, but last night it belonged to fiddles, battered guitars, Celtic melodies, American highways and a roomful of people singing “The Whole Of The Moon” at the top of their lungs. Not bad for a Thursday night. Words and photos: Rhyan Paul You can read our recent exclusive interview with Mike Scott here.

Canadian singer-songwriter Luca Fogale has built his reputation around intimate, emotionally direct indie folk, combining reflective songwriting with a quietly expansive musical approach. The British Columbia-based artist is a two-time JUNO Award nominee, with his previous albums Nothing is Lost (2020) and Run Where the Light Calls (2023) both nominated for Adult Contemporary Album of the Year. Challenger, released in January 2025, is his fourth studio album. What makes Challenger particularly revealing is the degree to which Fogale turns the songwriting inward. Rather than simply documenting the world around him, the album is built around questions of identity, personal history and the things we inherit — emotionally, socially and culturally — before deciding what we actually want to carry forward. Fogale describes the record as an attempt to examine who he has become and what has shaped him, while questioning which parts of his past still serve him and which need to be challenged or left behind. That gives Challenger a sense of movement: this isn't an album about having all the answers, but about being willing to ask uncomfortable questions. The emotional landscape is more personal and raw than his previous work. Fogale confronts subjects including mental health, self-esteem, generational patterns, masculine expectations and wider social unrest. Yet Challenger isn't presented as an exercise in despair. Fogale acknowledges that there is plenty in the modern world to be cynical about, but the album represents an attempt to move in the opposite direction — towards confidence, hope and a greater sense of personal responsibility. The songs were largely written during quiet periods between tours, with Fogale retreating to a secluded cabin deep in the British Columbia interior. Away from the demands of everyday life, that isolation became part of the creative process, allowing him to confront his doubts and reconsider his direction. The album's opening single, 'Begin', captures that idea particularly well, focusing on the struggle against apathy and the difficult process of starting again. Elsewhere, 'Horizon' provides a lighter counterpoint: an unabashed love song about surrendering to something rather than attempting to control it. 'Lost Without You' similarly explores love through gratitude, focusing on the sense of security another person can provide. One of the album's most striking tracks is 'Ashes', a folk-inflected meditation on masculinity and grief. Inspired in part by the death of a friend, the song challenges the traditional expectation that men should remain strong and silent. Fogale connects the song to his own upbringing and describes the experience of rediscovering the ability to cry after a long period of emotional restraint. 'Daniel's Theme' takes another route into similar territory. Built around a deliberately simple harmonic structure, it portrays a man damaged by his past but still capable of kindness. Fogale describes Daniel as slow, gentle, troubled and tempted, yet ultimately someone whose goodness survives everything that has happened to him. The song had remained with Fogale for around five years before finally finding its place on the album. Fogale also produced Challenger himself, reinforcing the album's sense of personal ownership. His evolving view of songwriting is central to that process. Whereas he once thought of songwriting as something almost cosmic — ideas arriving from outside and passing through the artist — he now sees artistic expression as something originating much deeper within ourselves, particularly from the parts of us that are most ready, or most necessary, to emerge. The result is a twelve-track album that moves between introspection, love, grief, identity and hope. Its tracklist runs from 'Everything', 'Begin' and 'For' through 'Lost Without You', 'Hymn', 'Ashes', 'Define You', 'Horizon', 'Relief', 'Daniel's Theme', the title track and 'Yours'. The album has also found a sizeable audience. According to the supplied release information, its singles had accumulated more than five million streams since the beginning of the album campaign, alongside editorial support from Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon Music. 'Ashes' also received more than 300 plays on SiriusXM's North American stations. Fogale has continued to support the record on the road, with headline shows across North America and Europe. His European tour includes dates in Oslo, Stockholm, Copenhagen, Hamburg, Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Munich, Zürich, Cologne, Antwerp, Paris, Utrecht and London, underlining the growing international reach of an artist whose music remains rooted in deeply personal songwriting. At its heart, Challenger is an album about questioning the person you have become and deciding what kind of person you want to be next. Fogale doesn't present transformation as a grand gesture; instead, it emerges through small acts of honesty — confronting grief, questioning inherited ideas of masculinity, recognising the value of love and choosing hope over cynicism. That combination of vulnerability and restraint is what gives the record its identity. That journey now reaches Spain, with Luca Fogale beginning his Spanish dates today, September 3, at Wurlitzer Ballroom in Madrid, before heading to Club Sauvage in Barcelona on September 4. The two intimate dates offer Spanish audiences the chance to experience Challenger in the kind of close-up setting that suits Fogale's music: songs built around emotional detail, vulnerability and the quieter spaces between the big moments. The Spanish shows form part of his wider European campaign behind Challenger, bringing an album that was born in the solitude of the British Columbia wilderness into two very different urban settings. For an artist whose work is ultimately about connection, there is something fitting about that transition — private thoughts written in isolation now becoming shared experiences in small rooms thousands of kilometres from where they began. For Spanish audiences discovering Fogale for the first time, these dates provide a particularly good introduction to an artist whose music doesn't demand attention through volume or spectacle. Instead, Challenger asks listeners to lean in — and, once they do, there is plenty there to discover. We recently caught up with Luca to chat about his new album and his spanish tour: Thanks for taking time out of your schedule to chat with me and I am going to dive straight into the questions: It is your first Spanish tour, what has drawn you to want to perform in Spain? Well, I have only been the one time and that was with my bass player – we took a little vacation after our last tour. We didn’t have any shows, but I have always heard so much about Spain and the way it Parallels Italian culture – the celebration of art and music and food. After the trip, I decided any reason to come back would be good. So, we ended up with shows in Madrid and Barcelona, so this will be my first step into Spanish music and venues. It’s going to be an interesting experience! How do think the audience are going to react to your performance compared to those in Canada? I think I am coming with an open mind, but also, I am hoping for a level of excitement and engagement. England and Germany are very polite crowds, but Italy they are a lot more involved and raucous - I’m hoping for more of that! A new fan discovers your music for the first time; is there one particular song from your back catalogue you would really want them to remember? I think my newest music always reflects how I am feeling at the present and there is a short track on my new album called “Daniels Theme” and it captures the version of a person we all try to be. When I play it, it feels like an interlude in the show or on the album, buts it’s an important piece of music – so that’s the one I would like them to take away. The title of the new album is “Challenger” and that a really powerful title and message. So, what does it mean to you personally? It means a lot to me – over the past couple of years I have thought a lot about the parts of myself that have made me and the things that have shaped me into who I am. And thinking about what parts of myself should I leave behind and what parts should I carry forwards. So, embodying a character that isn’t afraid to challenger every part of oneself and being very honest at looking at oneself and saying “is this the best that I can be”? I am able to experience hurt, apathy, pain and frustration, all the most difficult elements and then reflect strength, grace and patience. So, the character born out the album is someone who is unafraid to change. As will all of my music, the songs shape me and I shape the songs in parallel, I have the last few years trying to embody that in a way that is representative of just how important these songs are too me. I want to grow and change alongside my music. Is there one song that seeded the creative process for the rest of the album? The first song I wrote, which is the second song on the album – “Begin” is very much about starting over and leaving the past behind. In writing that song, it felt like I was pushing myself toward something different. We all understand times of frustration or stagnation and realising our full potential. For me it was a question about - as someone who cares and so many things matter to me a lot – how much you can begin again and how much can you really leave behind. So that song felt like I was shoving myself forwards into a new way of how to grow and how do you grow when you are carrying all of this on your shoulders. And you can find out more about Luca here: Luca Fogale Luca Fogale begins his Spanish tour tonight, September 3, at Madrid’s Wurlitzer Ballroom, before heading to Barcelona’s Club Sauvage tomorrow night, September 4. Two intimate dates, two chances to get close to an artist who has built his career on emotional honesty rather than grand gestures. After spending years turning inward to make this record, Fogale is finally taking Challenger out into the world — and Spanish audiences get their first taste tonight. For Spanish Tour Tickets: Last Tour

Competition can do funny things to musicians. It can sharpen them, focus them, push them into the red — or, occasionally, get inside their heads before they have even walked through the door. That was the slightly surreal starting point for Round One of Hard Rock Rising at Hard Rock Cafe Valencia last night, with Nohe and Sita Rizzi eventually taking to the stage after Jhay Onex, scheduled as part of the opening battle, was unable to make it. The pressure had got to him before the first note was played and he didn't turn up, leaving the night with an unexpected twist before the competition had properly begun. And perhaps that's the first lesson of Hard Rock Rising: this isn't just another gig. There is something very different about walking onto a stage knowing that the people standing in front of you aren't simply there to listen — they're there to judge. Every note, every vocal, every move and every moment of connection counts, with the audience given the final say through the public voting system. Thankfully, Nohe and Sita Rizzi looked more than ready for the fight... Nohe delivered a confident performance that showed exactly why artists like this belong in a competition designed to put emerging talent under the spotlight. There was plenty of personality in the set, but more importantly there was the sense that this was an artist who understood the value of the moment. No hiding behind the band, no waiting for the audience to come to them — the performance demanded attention. Then came Sita Rizzi, who ultimately walked away with the biggest prize of the night: the public vote and a place in the final. The bands performance had the combination that these competitions are built around — musicianship, presence, personality and that indefinable quality that makes people in a room decide they want to see you again. The audience clearly agreed, and when the votes were counted, Sita Rizzi emerged as the winner of Round One. The atmosphere throughout the night was one of the best parts of the whole thing. Fans had clearly come out in force for their respective artists, creating the kind of partisan but good-natured energy that makes a battle of the bands genuinely entertaining. Every cheer mattered. Every vote mattered. And suddenly the room wasn't just a venue — it was part gig, part competition arena, part very noisy democracy. That's what makes Hard Rock Rising interesting. The audience isn't simply there to clap politely at the end. They're the jury. The voting system scores artists across areas including musicianship, vocal talent, originality, stage presence and fan support, meaning the bands have to bring considerably more to the table than a couple of decent songs. For Sita Rizzi, that equation worked. They now moves forward to the Hard Rock Rising Final, carrying the momentum of Round One with her and knowing that the stakes will only get higher. For Nohe, there is plenty to take away from a strong performance, while Jhay Onex is left with the rather brutal reality that sometimes the toughest opponent isn't standing on the other side of the stage — it's the pressure in your own head. Round One, then, belonged to Sita Rizzi. But more importantly, it showed that Hard Rock Rising has the potential to be something genuinely worthwhile for Valencia's emerging music scene. Give hungry artists a proper stage, put their fans directly into the equation and make the result depend on what happens in the room rather than what happens on a streaming platform. Suddenly, things get interesting. Round One is over. Sita Rizzi is through. The microphone is now officially a weapon. Check out Sita Rizzi here: Sita Rizzi And for more information: Hard Rock Cafe Valencia Words and photos: Rhyan Paul

Love of Lesbian are heading to Valencia for what promises to be one of the biggest shows of their career in the city — and there’s a rather important detail attached to it: 11 December 2026 will be their first and only appearance at Roig Arena before the band takes an indefinite break. The Barcelona indie-pop institution will bring their latest chapter to the city’s biggest indoor venue as part of Piñata Valencia, with the concert landing among the final dates of a tour that concludes later that same month. For a band with almost three decades of history behind them, it is an appropriately huge setting for what could be a very significant night. And yet, this isn't being sold as some miserable final curtain. Love of Lesbian describe the coming pause as “un hasta luego de largo aliento” — a long, drawn-out see-you-later rather than goodbye. The emphasis is on celebration: the songs, the stories, the strange emotional chemistry that has connected the band with audiences across Spain and Latin America for years. Right now, Love of Lesbian are hardly winding down creatively. Quite the opposite. The band have just sold out Mexico City's Auditorio Nacional for the third time, while continuing to unveil new material from Nouvelle Cuisine Caníbal Vol. 3. Recent singles ‘Ojalá’, featuring Judit Neddermann, and ‘Ámame lindo’, featuring Andie Gago and produced by Camilo Lara, show a group still pushing forward even as the clock ticks towards December. That contradiction makes the Valencia date particularly intriguing. This isn't a band limping towards the finish line; it is Love of Lesbian arriving at one of their biggest moments with plenty of momentum behind them, before deliberately stepping away. For nearly 30 years, Santi Balmes and company have carved out a singular corner of Spanish alternative pop, building songs where poetry, irony, melancholy and huge melodic hooks can happily occupy the same room. Their catalogue has grown into a collection of modern Spanish-language indie anthems, while their live shows have become a major part of the band's identity. Now the stage gets considerably bigger. Roig Arena can accommodate up to an estimated 20,000 people in concert configuration, making this Love of Lesbian's largest venue appearance in Valencia. That scale matters, particularly for a band whose songs have always had an unusually intimate relationship with their audience. Expect the big songs, the new material, the emotional left turns and the kind of communal singing that comes when thousands of people know precisely where a lyric is going before Balmes gets there. But there will be something else hanging in the air: this is one of the last times. Not forever, apparently. Not a breakup. Not a dramatic farewell. Just a band reaching the end of one enormous chapter, stepping off the road for an indefinite period and giving Valencia one last colossal night before they do it. For tickets and more information: Roig Arena