Kalorama, Day 1: Dancing Like Pop Kids

First of all, let's face the elephant in the room: it's always a cause for celebration to have a band of the calibre of the Pet Shop Boys in Portugal, but their performance on the main stage on this first day of MEO Kalorama was the second that the London duo had in the space of two years in our country, still as part of the same greatest hits tour, Dreamworld . In 2023, they came to Primavera Sound in Porto; before that, we have to go back to 2010. Is it a case of using the cliché “there's no hunger that doesn't result in plenty”? Perhaps, but the relevance of being treated to an almost identical line-up and the same visual spectacle is questionable — especially considering that, in the meantime, they released Nonetheless in 2024, an album that didn't have a single song tonight.

However, this is probably a negligible criticism given the way in which the audience — far from being in overwhelming numbers, but energetic — gave themselves over to the almost hour and a half concert. And those who were in Porto two years ago and returned here at least got to see a better concert, without the sluggish sound that characterized the previous one. It is true that the beats called for more power and that David Tennant's voice — which has never been a prodigy — revealed itself to be brittle at times, but the parade of hits that the Pet Shop Boys brought is undeniable and could sound here with the triumphalism that is required.

We are, after all, talking about a synth pop institution that has made shamelessly synthesized music a major art form — and, as a result, has its fingerprints all over the charts of the most listened to songs, from Lady Gaga to Disclosure. Yes, it is true that what once might have sounded futuristic today seems fondly associated with a certain era, but these will always be hasty conclusions that become short-lived during the performance. Some of the songs could not sound more “today”: Vocal , the closing, with an almost techno pulse, is one of them; the nostalgic The Pop Kids — perhaps the most recent one they played — is an example of this: it recalls the band’s past and sounds the same.

The performance began with Suburbia's own melancholy, with Tennant and Chris Lowe wearing futuristic masks, under two spotlights imitating lamps, part of a formidable visual spectacle (or maybe that's one of their trademarks). They remained that way until the panel at the back rose and revealed three more members, two on percussion and a keyboard player, Clare Uchima, who had a highlight when she had to take the place of Dusty Springfield singing a duet , What Have I Done to Deserve This?

Listing the classics that the band performed on stage is a task as exhausting as it is fruitless, given how many there were. However, it is worth highlighting the relevance that Panimero and Rent continue to have (despite their apparent simplicity), the way in which the versions of Where the Streets Have No Name (I Can't Take My Eyes Off You) and You Were Always on My Mind drew the audience into song that never stopped dancing, and the pure delirium caused by Domino Dancing and It's a Sin . The encore of West Side Girls and Being Boring didn't need to raise the energy levels for an audience that was already surrendered.

After the warm-up, the dance session continued on the San Miguel Stage. After Paredes de Coura , it would be hard for L'Impératrice to surpass themselves. As the stars of one of the most magnetic and beloved performances of last year's Portuguese festivals, the Parque da Bela Vista would never have the capacity to transform itself into the natural amphitheatre of Minho — especially since we are in the city, without all the ambience (and magic) of a festival that allows us to escape from everyday life, and this Friday is a work day for many.

In addition, there was another challenge for the French band to overcome. L'Impératrice had lost their lead singer, Flore Benguigui, who decided to leave the group after a series of internal disagreements. Although she was not the most important member of the band's compositions and music, she was still a very important element due to her charisma in the performances.

At MEO Kalorama, in front of a crowd of people ready to dance but lacking the spirit of a remote summer festival, L'Impératrice did what they could, betting on their strongest assets. They are heirs to French Touch, the funky and cheerful French electronic music, with seductive bass lines and irresistible beats. Live, they are able to embody this with special virtuosity, as they are a true dance music orchestra.

On stage, the multi-instrumentalists swapped guitars, basses and synthesizers, giving the concert an exceptional dynamic. Positioned majestically, with the drummer on top of a shiny structure with the keyboards coming out to the side, they appeared surrounded by many lights — and they themselves held one on their chest, which changed color according to the songs.

The new vocalist, Maud “Louve” Ferron, may still be green but she managed to fulfill her role as frontwoman , encouraging the audience — and, after all, the voice is not at all the most decisive element in L'Impératrice's music, where grooves and rhythms reign supreme. Danceable music so contagious that, curiously, one of its highest moments was the only song released in this new phase of the group, Entropia , revealed this year and which could be a great omen for the future of the collective. Challenge overcome, even if the mission of surpassing the glory of 2024 was truly impossible.

“Does time make fools of us?” That was the question on Josh Tillman’s lips when he returned to Portugal to play Father John Misty . It’s true that the American no longer inspires the same kind of canine dedication he did when he emerged as the new great face of indie music — and perhaps that’s reflected in his position on the line-up at the end of the afternoon — but he’s never stopped knowing how to put on a good show, as he clearly demonstrated.

Tillman has been in our country for a relatively short time — he played at Meco in 2023 — but something happened between these two years: Mahashmashana , his sixth album, celebrated as a kind of comeback and whose name, in Sanskrit, means “large cremation ground”. If this term suggests introspection, it is no coincidence. What we saw on the Kalorama stage was a more mature and less hyped artist, sparing in his interaction with the audience, but maintaining that debonair manner of a master of ceremonies who does not need much more than a slight sway of his hips and letting the lyrics — full of observations, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes introspective — speak for themselves.

Fitting into the lineup like tailor-made costumes, the quality of the new songs made up for a concert that was short and had too many “hits” — if there are such things as “hits” in the indie universe — from outside, such as Holy Shit , Chateau Lobby #4 or I'm Writing a Novel . I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All , with a lounge-like start, turns into a funk wonder, while She Cleans Up showed a rock swing like we haven't seen from her in a long time. Screamland , with a more orchestral arrangement and a dramatic chorus loaded with reverb , served as a sort of central element of the concert, and the title track is a monument that ranks among the best she has ever written.

What remains from this concert is that, where his troubadourism could have sounded hollow and loaded with a mixture of pretension and honesty (a porous border that he always knew how to maintain) a decade ago, when he emerged in the eyes of the general public with I Love You, Honeybear , today, in an era of chaos and uncertainty, the pair of lyrics from that song that closed the concert — “Everything is doomed / And nothing will be spared” and “But everything is fine / Don't give into despair / 'Cause I love you, honeybear” — resonates especially in 2025. Time can make fools of us all, but this is not the time that Father John Misty has become a tired joke.

In another type of reflexivity, this one more physical, attention turned once again to the San Miguel Stage as Sevdaliza burst onto the scene. Originally from Iran but raised in the Netherlands, the 37-year-old artist gave an explosive performance in keeping with her image. Tall and with long black hair, Sevdaliza is a seductive and empowering figure with an easygoing attitude. “Portugal has a very special place in my heart,” said the singer, who performed at Sónar Lisboa last year and who maintains a strong connection with the Portuguese language, having already recorded songs in Portuguese, especially due to the relationship she has built with her Brazilian fans.

There is no mistaking it: this is an upbeat, intense song that turns anguish into fuel, as can be seen from the many words that flash across the screen — “anger”, “the girls are angry”, “made in pain” — interspersed with images of weapons, explosions, the hustle and bustle of the city, the turmoil of modern life. The lights complement the picture: a show not recommended for the faint-hearted, but which helped to turn the secondary stage of MEO Kalorama into a vibrant dance floor. Despite its roots in Iran, and the Palestinian flags that could be seen in the audience, there was no mention of the war that is taking place in the Middle East.

With an engaging performance and never stopping dancing, Sevdaliza proves her effectiveness in winning over the audience. But her avant-garde pop music, which becomes increasingly electronic as the concert progresses, seems to try to go too far, which in contrast ends up making it somewhat generic — a nod to Brazilian funk, reggaeton and different sounds of electronic music, from a beat from the depths of techno to a lighter aesthetic that seems to have come straight out of Eurovision.

Accompanied by drums, keyboards and a dancer, Sevdaliza was anticipating her third original album, Heroina , which should be released soon — Messiah, Eternity and Stripper were songs presented for the first time to the Portuguese public and which also certainly served to introduce her for the first time to many festival-goers.

“Thank you for being here in this heat, friends, while you’re here I won’t take my coat off”, said David Bruno, faced with the inclement temperature that was felt during the afternoon in front of the Kalorama stage. But “when I take it off, you’ll never forget it”. That’s what happened before singing Bebe e Dorme , showing that, on the inside lining, there was an image of the Capela do Senhor da Pedra in Gulpilhares, “where Nicole Scherzinger was proposed to”.

If all this seems strange to you, it’s because you’ve never seen the rapper and producer perform live. You don’t expect virtuosity in one of his performances, except for the guitar leads of Marco Duarte, affectionately known as Marquito, but rather a natural charisma and a disarming sense of humour, capable of making many comedians envious — “every time I’m going to make a sausage, I follow his tutorial”, he says, regarding Isaltino Morais. To top it all off, he has an excellent hypeman , António Bandeiras, the “Robert de Niro of Caxinas”, who pulls the audience in ways we thought unimaginable, from eating a banana, dancing the Macarena and throwing roses from the stage to ripping his trousers to get a hybrid skirt-shorts and throwing the leftovers to the audience.

The formula has been more or less the same since his solo debut — he is one of the members of Conjunto Corona — with O Último Tango em Mafamude , in 2018: languid beats, delicately sweet melodies that touch on olive oil and explorations of the regional idiosyncrasies of this beautiful country of ours, in its most unique aspects. Live, however, everything changes. Take, for example, when he arrives armed with a stainless steel platter, the same one he uses to present Mesa para Dois at Carpa and ask influencers to “leave the taverns alone”: “who asks for a giveaway where they serve daily allowances?”, he asks.

Unlike what happened a week earlier, at Primavera Sound , he couldn't count on Rui Reininho to sing Tema de Sequeira with him, but he once again recruited Presto, from Mind da Gap, for 10 em 10 , and Mike El Nite for Interveniente Acidental and Inatel , the latter enhanced by the fact that the two went to sing in front of the audience. At the end, after beautiful moments of complicity with the few who braved “shitty temperatures [that wasn't the right word]” to be with him, he left the motto: “Be proud of your Portuguese identity, without looking down on others”.

If this is a measurable characteristic, Cara de Espelho exudes it. One year later, the band is still on the road presenting its self-titled debut album . Dressed in black, with the exception of vocalist Mitó who wore a red dress, they prove on stage that the title of super-band is no exaggeration. After all, it was with this status that they appeared on the scene when they brought together in the same group Pedro da Silva Martins (Deolinda), his brother Luís J. Martins (also from Deolinda), Carlos Guerreiro (Gaiteiros de Lisboa), Sérgio Nascimento (Humanos, David Fonseca and Sérgio Godinho), Mitó (A Naifa) and Nuno Prata (Ornatos Violeta).

“We are Cara de Espelho and we are here to reflect you”, Mitó began by saying in his clear and impeccable voice, without a single syllable out of place throughout the hour-long concert. This is sophisticated music, composed mainly by Pedro da Silva Martins but with superb arrangements by the entire band. It is impossible not to highlight the feats of Carlos Guerreiro, an inventive builder of a series of musical instruments, placed on a table, which are handled throughout the show. They evoke a popular side, a mystical aura embedded in the bagpipes and flutes, almost at the level of the pagan.

The provocative lyrics reflect contemporary society but above all the times in this garden planted by the sea. They are intelligent, creative, elevated but with humor. They put their finger on the wound with class, are politicized but with an elegant subtlety, and songs like Paraíso Fiscal , Fadistao , Dr. Coisinho or the new singles — already from this year — Elefante no Hemiciclo and O Que Esta Gente Quer were precisely the most applauded. Essential music by people like us that reflects these times so well.

On a day when there wasn't exactly a crowd — Observador asked the organization for official figures, but didn't receive them before this article was published — The Flaming Lips might have felt discouraged when they saw the number of people leaving the venue after the L'Impératrice concert. However, pay attention to the verb tense — not only did this not happen because, frankly, we suspect that Wayne Coyne and company would have been content to play for five people, but there was also a decent group of die-hards who thought the best was saved for last.

One of the great institutions of post-60s psychedelic rock, the band led by Coyne is on tour playing one of their most celebrated albums, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots , in its entirety. However, unlike other dates, The Flaming Lips only had time here to play exclusively the 11 songs from that album, so time was of the essence. All We Have Is Now , one of the last songs played, sealed this mantra in one of the most beautiful moments of communion of the entire day, with band and audience singing in unison.

“Come on, come on, keep going”, were the words repeated most often by the vocalist and leader throughout the concert, something that could seem insecure or presumptuous if it weren’t the result of his crazy attitude of always pushing the audience, who responded accordingly. This healthy madness, in fact, was reflected not only in the garish visuals that appeared on stage, but also in the inflatable pink robots that were inflated on stage or a giant balloon that said “Fuck Yeah Kalorama Lisbon”.

If part 1 of Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots inspired jumps of joy and genuine trepidation, Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell, for example, invited a more contemplative moment. Trumpets, virtuosic bass performances, slide guitar and even rap-inspired beats crowned a concert that was as bizarre as it was revealing of how rock is a world beyond three chords linked together. After revealing that they had had problems on the journey and that they risked missing their flight, Wayne Coyne made this promise: “We hope to play 100 more times at your festival”. We hope so too.