After greenly hearing reports of jaw-droppingly brilliant 2005 performances, as recounted by contented friends, I had made it my personal goal to get my butt to Barcelona to experience one of the most innovative art, music and multimedia festivals on the planet, otherwise known as Sonar.

As per previous years, the festival was spread over three days and two nights (June 15 to 17), and this year’s focus was that of showcasing Black music and artists from the innovator of the Orient– Japan.

Sonar de Dia (Sonar By Day) is tucked away, in the heart of Barcelona, between noisy graf-ridden building sites and tiny streets littered with tapas bars, punk record shops, and the hideously cool albeit ticket-less Barcelonans (both Day and Night gigs were sold out)– drinking, hip hop pumping from boom boxes and comparing low riders.

After preparing ourselves for a strict search upon entry, we were surprised when Security failed to check our bags – a tip – alcohol can be smuggled. Although with beer at €3 a pop, and mobile ‘Duff’ men and women servicing your cerveza needs, it’s hardly worth it.

Beer in hand and a fist full of drink tickets in the other, we ventured into the fray, being SonarVillage. Picture a beautiful sunny day, rays beating down on half naked bodies, grooving in an arena laden with astro turf for maximum comfiness and minimum dirtiness. Populate this area with a laid-back and easily approachable mulleted (still huge in Spain) mix of all types from all corners of the globe, each with their own style and agenda of enjoying the sunshine and soaking in everything Sonar has to offer.

Beatmaster G was the first artist to astound me, the complexity of sounds coming from that single mouth was truly astonishing. Although cheesy, he beatboxed every single beat, melody and vocal of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean flawlessly to hollers of appreciation from the Village.

Hesitant to leave the sunshine, it was time to dive into Escenario Hall to see The Knife. A totally pitch black hall, seethingly packed, the crowd surge us towards the stage. Massive roars eminated from the depths urging the two Swedes to show us what they’ve got.

The stage was a void of blackness, instruments barely visible, when Olof and Karin appear, stiff and dressed in black Kraftwerk-esque suits totally covering their bodies except for fluorescent pink painted faces and ears. The eerie yet beautiful first chords of The Captain resonate through the hall, and visuals of submarines and planes dropping bombs light up the AV screen at stage rear, while trippy acid visuals are projected onto a black flyscreen in front of The Knife at stage front. Relying as heavily on the importance of a visual treat than an audial one, retrospectively The Knife were the pick of the day. The random synth arpeggio of Silent Shout whipped the room into a blackened frenzy. My only tip for most of the acts in Escenario Hall is to get there early – the Hall, over-capacity, was closed 10 minutes before the start of their set.

Time for some Japanese goodness in the form of Marina Yanagisawa, part of the featured troup. For the ten or so minutes I spent (perhaps ’lost’ is a better word) watching Yanagisawa, he played abstract, angry and deafening noises not dissimilar to a quartet featuring a hacksaw, a police siren, an angle grinder and a child squealing. Personally, I was unable to understand the attraction of most of the Japanese artists, a little too ‘po-mo’ for me.

I stumbled across a big white tent behind where the Japanese were stationed, being SonarDome. The best way to describe the vibe of this arena is to compare it to the breaks tent at the first Field Day, although add better music (and ventilation) and subtract the General Pants massive. A DJ from Dusseldorf, Frank D’Arpino was spinning some of the best boompity house I have ever heard. Mix that with a calf-deep carpet of tiny coloured pieces of foam and it was hands down the best fun I had at Sonar Festival. Foam fights, foam angels and solid jump-up house – a recipe for a good romp. I remember looking around SonarDome and every single person around me had a cheshire grin planted from ear to ear.

Too many beers meant a sleep-in was definitely in order on day two of Sonar. I arrived at SonarVillage just in time to hear Barbara Preisinger tickle my ears with some glitchy house, just before Senor Coconut & His Orchestra graced us with their prescence. Featuring the very charismatic Argenis Brito, I was super excited to see the band in the flesh after falling in love with Smoke on the Water after hearing it on Akufen’s Fabric album. And they did not fail to impress, and by all accounts was the pick of day two. Smoke on the Water, Riders on the Storm, Tour de France, We are the Robots. Uwe had everyone jumping with My Name Is Coco, the crowd was so happy that we didn’t care one little bit about the long-haired Spanish guy touting a whistle 30cm from our ears. What a high.

It was time for Sonar de Noche (Sonar By Night), which was inside a disused aircraft hanger in an industrial area on the way to the airport, about a 15 minute cab ride from the city. Security searches were a more strict this time, although still lax compared to some Australian standards.

We arrived in time to Rahzel and DJ JS-One in SonarClub, which was the ‘main’ indoor arena. While Rahzel is no doubt talented, he had nothing on Beatmaster G, who we had seen the day before.

No matter, as one of the acts I was most interested in seeing was about to start – CHIC featuring Nile Rodgers. Rodgers being responsible for some of the defining feel-good tracks of our time, their set was a rapturous experience. Full band, slinky chocolate-skinned women with tight white dresses and flaming red hair on stage, they were brilliant to watch. Le Freak, Be Faithful, Sister Sledge’s We Are Family, Good Times – good times indeed. My pick of the night.

Off to SonarPub (outdoor arena) to see Laurent Garnier. I was primed and ready for some ten-minute-Man-With-A-Red-Face-with-live-sax action. I waited. And I waited. And I waited. The beginning of his set was very disjointed, hard to describe but the tracks and sounds weren’t gelling. He dropped some drum and bass which there was a distinct lack of at the festival (guess it’s not minimal enough), but then continued on his ambient trip so I left. And I missed it. Ten minutes of cheesy saxy goodness at the very end of his set.

I found myself back at SonarClub, hearing all the same Jeff Mills classics he has been playing forever. Call me cheesy but I do still love The Bells, Alarms, Stardancer, Jaguar, but then I noticed a distinct change in pitch, change in direction. It started to get hard. And harder. And harder. And then some. I couldn’t train spot any of the tracks, but he played more like a techno dj and less like a trick dj. In comes the 909, and he worked that like I’ve never seen him work it before, and actually enjoying it. He grinned from ear to ear and actually cheered the crowd. What a sight.

I hot footed it over to Herbert with excitement at the prospect of hearing Something Isn’t Right from the new album. Disco influenced and achingly soulful, with solid vocals – but was Dani Siciliano absent? Better placed at Sonar By Day, it was DJ Shadow time.

The moment we walked in, DJ Shadow did Organ Donor live, which absolutely made my night. But the joy was short-lived as once the track was finished, Keak Da Sneak, Turf Talk & Nump wobbled on stage – cue The Hyphy Movement, which was total rubbish. They yelled, they screamed, they talked over the top of each other, they crowed about how good they were which took me back to De La Soul’s atrocious Gatecrasher Summer Sound System “buy our album” performance. Shadow would do his live thing for one track, which was brilliant, and then let The Hyphy Movement do their thing for another track, although it seemed like an enternity. The room literally had about 200 / 300 people in it, and for a draw card act, it was embarrassing. Australia, you have been warned.

It was home time, we stumbled out into the outside world with the idea of hailing a cab. Sonar tip #684 – take the free bus. We walked for two hours up Parc de Montjuïc, a mountainous road, in search of a taxi. What a beautiful view of Barcelona but exhausting and scary at 6am.

The need for sleep unfortunately limited my prescence at the final Sonar de Dia, I arrived just in time to catch Fat Freddy’s Drop and their beautiful dubby goodness, such a perfect way to spend an afternoon – cervesa in hand, bopping along to classy true-to-form reggae sounds, mastered by the tight seven piece band from NZ. The extraordinary vocal talents of Hollie Smith were certainly proven by rocking SonarVillage with Hope.

Earlier in the day I thankfully missed The Scissor Sisters, who were billed under the pseudonym White Diet (how appropriate), and a surprise appearance by James Zabiela in the hot, sweaty and over-packed Escenario Hall. No matter, it was time for Sonar de Noche!

We arrived just in time to catch the end of Hot Chip’s set in SonarPark. The UK’s hottest ‘pop’ band of the moment; their rocky, synth-driven, if not predictable sound was fun to jump around to, intensified even more so by their tongue-in-cheek attitude to performing. On a stage so big, some artists tended to get ‘lost’, but the band certainly had presence. What struck me at first was the angle of the camera providing the live feed for the visuals, which were projected onto three huge screens behind them. The cameras were hung from the ceiling, pointing directly toward the floor below Hot Chip, so every knob twiddled, every key pressed was as plain as day for the audience. At a festival where we sometimes struggled to see the artist let alone exactly what he was doing, it was welcome and interesting relief.

Time for Goldfrapp, and not having seen them before I was expecting something sexy, something quirky, for Alison to make a provocative entrance onto the stage. After much delay, the band poured onto the stage, in matching and very daggy black shorts with pink t-shirts. There was no velvet bellbottomed suit. No painfully high heels and no mane of a thousand curls. She barely managed the typically breathy electro-pop numbers she’s famous for, failing to hit most of the high notes. Bikini-clad werewolf dancers couldn’t save it. And to top it off, the sound in that arena, at least for Goldfrapp, was sub-standard considering what an international and cutting-edge festival it was. We left.

Another UK post punk funk band (a dime a dozen in London) The Infadels were playing outside at SonarPub, which was practically empty (most arenas throughout the whole of Sonar By Night were not full by any standards). While I enjoyed We Are Not The Infadels, they are a band which are only justified by their live performances. Full of energy, they blasted out the bouncy Love Like Semtex, with more enthusiasm than most artists I had seen at Sonar.

We stayed put for Isolee, which was a horribly boring sight, multiplied ten fold when the visuals feed died at the beginning of his set. A fan of especially We Are Monster, I was especially excited to see him, ideally in a dark, dingy, tiny club with a crystal clear system, where the clicks and pops and twangs would resonate and drag me into his world. Well, the outdoor SonarPub was not that place. The sound was good (near the mixing desk) and although he ventured into harder electro driven tech territory, Mueller was interesting but Ijust wasn’t into his sound at that place and time.

It is at this stage where my mind and memory ventured elsewhere, shameful considering I missed most of the Spectral Sound showcase, including Hawtin, Villalobos and what I have heard was a fabulous set by Ryan Elliott I am sure I would have loved. But that’s more often the case than not at Sonar, missing artists you had every intention of worshipping front and centre, as the programme is simply too packed.

Although I feel it’s not as ‘underground’ as it once was, on the whole, the 14th Sonar festival was a fantastic experience, one I would recommend to anyone considering travel to Spain. Although if I had my time over, I would spend more time at Sonar By Day, and less time at Sonar By Night – and reserved the precious moonlight hours for exploring the smaller and more exclusive clubs and parties around Barcelona. And as with any big festival, it’s all about pacing oneself as to gain maximum enjoyment from being in one of the most wonderful cities in the world. Disfruta!

Check out my photos HERE