Optimus Primavera is a festival that ticks every box

It’s not often that a festival ticks every box, but this one really does. First up, it takes place in the magnificent city of Porto. Where Barcelona, the home of Optimus Primavera Sound’s bigger sister, can prove threatening and tourist-trappy, Porto is a real European haven - a stunning city full of welcoming cool folk, of friendly late night party haunts, beautiful architecture, weird statues, some exceptional record shops and the best custard tart you’ll ever eat. In other food news, there’s this cheesy fish dish called baccalau and francesinha, a cheesy meaty sandwich in gravy with chips and a fried egg on it. Not as rank as it sounds when you’re hanging.

With the festival kicking off at around 6pm each evening and very much carrying on until 6am, you get the opportunity to explore the beautiful Portugese city (unless you’re a total victim of the night before, which many people were). The pretty terraccotta rooftops creating a sunshine mosaic of a city scape, with a looming Sydney Harbour style bridge and fantastic cable car running alongside the water’s edge. On the first day of the festival we walked about 6 miles along the coastal path to reach the festival site from the city. You’d be much better off sharing an 8 euro cab.

The festival billing may have seemed a bit sparse next to its bigger Spanish sister, but there was no shortage of multi-genre music to listen to on the Friday and Saturday. Thursday was a bit thin on the ground, but it gave you the chance to head back into the city and enjoy some cheaper booze and food in the company of fine Portugese hosts, with no shortage of fab bars - we ended up in a hidden dive above a shop with table football, a DJ and some homemade mango liquor.

Thursday evening was one for the female-fronted groups, with Sky Ferreira strutting her Breakfast Club style vibez for teenyboppers and older men with questionable taste. Dressed in an oversized denim jacket, shades, skirt and no tights (chilly!) she blasted out some 80s inspired pop - dampened down with some pretty dire sixth form poetry lyrics. Song titles such as ‘I Blame Myself’ and ‘Everything Is Embarrassing’ as well as the knowledge she’s pals with Miley Cyrus kinda tells you everything you need to know here.

A later set from HAIM kept Sky’s crowd happy, as did a headline slot from Kendrick Lamar, while the rest of us hit the town/sack dreaming of the comprehensive weekend line-up. Saturday got off to a dreamy start with prog Americana songsmiths Midlake treating an early evening crowd to a swooning set of Nick Drake tinged tunes; rich layers of guitars, bass, drums, keys and the odd flute accompaniment - playing songs from their first couple of albums somewhat more suited to former singer Tim Smith - including the ‘hits’, ‘Roscoe’, ‘Young Bride’ and ‘Head Home’ as well as more recent material, including ‘Antiphon’, which takes them off in a different direction but one which gives them a bright future.

Television took to the ATP stage next to play their seminal album Marquee Moon in its entirety. They curated one of the last ever UK ATP festivals at Pontins and have been enjoying a resurgence among a new generation of music fans; but it’s hard to describe this gig without mentioning the sniffs of Razorlight in the music and vocals. Of course, it’s not that Television sounds like Borrell and co. but rather the other way round.

Another veteran band, Slowdive, put in a solid set of bizarrely timeless sounding shoegaze. They’re pretty much playing as many festivals as Neutral Milk Hotel this year, but they’re yet to seem totally jaded and were doing their thang with aplomb, rather than any sort of notion of going through the motions. There were inevitably some tears in the crowd as those UK guys in their late 30s/40s recalled these sounds from their youth.

Pixies put in an acceptable performance, but when you spend most of the set focussing on the sunglasses marks on Frank Black’s face or the Lego-style haircut of the Kim Deal replacement, then you know the show’s hardly earth shattering. *cough cough* That said, new Kim (Paz Lenchatin) puts in a very respectable performance and manages to suitably lift songs such as ‘Velouria’, ‘Gouge Away’ and ‘Here Comes My Man’ to the dizzy heights of the great anthems that they are.

Trentemoller, Loop, Darkside, and Shellac all prove other highlights of the Friday of the festival with Todd Terje pulling in an impressive super late night crowd in the Pitchfork tent, creating a credible dance vibe which left you in no doubt of how to see the new morning in - dancing your feet off. And if that wasn’t enough for you, Hard Club in Porto lived up to its name, hosting an afterparty from 6am until noon. Not a pretty sight.

Two parts of Sonic Youth eased us into Sunday with their effortlessly cool set of swooning art rock - the lesser known members of Sonic Youth, Lee Ranaldo and The Dust, looked genuinely thrilled to be there (a common occurrence among bands this weekend, all of whom had a stab at the Portugese for ‘thank you’ - ‘obrigado’).

If there’s a band you’re going to see at a festival this summer, it’s probably Neutral Milk Hotel - which appear to be on every bill from the UK to Poland and back. Hitting the road a few years back for some ATP shows, Jeff Mangum has re-united his mid noughties band to play the much-loved hits from ‘Two Headed Boy’ to ‘King of the Carrot Flowers’. The band looks like a motley bunch of folk from a typical Ellen Page/Michael Cera movie; from garden gnome chic to Noddy fanclub vibes and Mangum himself looking like Tom Hanks circa Castaway, there was always something to keep you entertained on the stage (though no photos please) and as the sun set on the final day, filling the sky with a purple haze, the mass singalong for ‘In An Aeroplane Over The Sea’ provided the perfect soundtrack.

John Grant has gained a cult following since pals Midlake persuaded him to record a solo album. The former Czars singer has since created one beautifully poignant keys/vocals reliant masterpiece, from which he showcased a selection of material at this gig, including title track ‘The Queen of Denmark’ and the spellbinding ‘Where Dreams Go To Die’. But this was interspersed with material from his recent album, ‘Pale Green Ghosts’ - which is a lot more experimental, the result of months spent recording in Iceland. These songs seemed to fit better with this festival, this crowd and he left the stage to a rapturous applause

Another act touring its ass off at the moment is The National - who took the crown as main stage headliners for the Sunday night of Primavera Porto. The American indie group rarely disappoint and tonight was no exception. Playing a greatest hits style set (‘Squalor Victoria’, ‘Ada’, ‘England’, ‘Graceless’ and too many to mention), Matt Berninger cut a breathtaking figure on the stage, hanging off the mic and regularly coming to the front to sing directly to his people; he took this even further when he clambered over the barrier during ‘Terrible Love’ and hung a right through the front row to the edge leading a half love in half singalong affair. With the backing of the Dessner brothers and some awesome accomplished musicians, his deep vocals, inspirational lyrics and showmanship create a real spectacle.

A quick jaunt over to the ATP stage allowed us to catch a solid set from Slint, who played a bunch of material from their powerful Spiderland album. Mogwai, who’d played this festival earlier on, were unsurprisingly in the crowd for this set as Slint are one of their key influences. Hailing from Louisville, Kentucky, Slint were charged with kickstarting the early math rock revolution and have gone on to influence an entire genre of bands. This was something of a moment for many people in this audience.

Ending the weekend for many (but not all, as Cloud Nothings played a late set at the Pitchfork stage) was Ty Segall. The San Fran garage rock outfit didn’t let early sound problems (his mic was way too quiet) get in the way of a raucous set of awesome. Sniffs of Black Flag, Black Sabbath and Nirvana sitting pretty alongside T-Rex, Bowie and Beatles vibes. Slightly psychedelic in places, but channeling fuzzy and firey blues to strike a chord with the crowd and entice out the obligatory crowd surfer. A belting end to a blinding festival. Same time next year.

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