Sabrina Carpenter dazzles and confuses a Spring divided in two at the same time.

Midnight, the witching hour, was the moment chosen by Sabrina Carpenter to take the stage and begin one of the strangest, most confusing, and most random concerts in the history of Primavera Sound. With a retro set straight from a variety show on the old Broadway, Sabrina looked like the star of a remake of "Bewitched," a return to the naive spirit of those wonderful early sixties.

Mimicking a game show broadcast, the singer appeared with her mischievous smile and long, curly hair. On Thursday, it was Charli XCX 's brunette curls. On Saturday, it was Chappell Roan 's redheads, but on Friday, it was all Sabrina Carpenter's blondes. "Barcelona, ​​it's the first time I've played here. Ohhh, you guys are a really beautiful audience," she said, perhaps unaware that the audience could be the same one she would find in London.

And here the music began. The artist's slick, almost-sweet pop reached fans who knew every word to the singer's songs. Like the Beatles, you could barely hear her over the roar of the crowd. With "Taste" and "Good Graces," the hype was absolute, and the high-pitched voices of Sabrina's fans were even more so.

Sabrina is a very stage-smart woman who knows how to move and find her best attributes. Her strengths are her voice and her hypnotic charisma. That's why she distanced herself from any cheesy choreography from the start. She doesn't foolishly pretend to know how to dance, like others; she doesn't need to. She's an actress and a singer, and that's what she does on stage: she acts and sings. She already has a dance team for the rest. The only problem is that she talks too much.

The concert was hampered by these downtimes. With too many dramatic interludes to simulate commercial breaks, the show moved along in fits and starts. There was no structural coherence, and it felt like a simple retelling of scenes perfect for TikTok . The stage was a simple platform lined with stairs for the singer to climb up and down. But everything happened too quickly, with the song-cut-song pattern too heterogeneous.

There were some good moments, of course. She even debuted a song live, her latest single, "Manchild," another pop masterpiece without much of a run. And then something strange happened. Sabrina Carpenter froze, as if surprised by the number of people staring at her. "You guys have no idea how slippery the stage is. This is your fault, because you're so horny," she said, and went back to singing, something she seemed to do only rarely. Almost 40 minutes had passed, and she'd only performed four or five songs.

And here the eccentricities began, like a sped-up version of "It's Raining Men " or a competition between the singer's dance troupe. She also spoke to José, a Mexican in the audience, to show us how relatable she is. Or she confessed that she had just seen "The Cheetah Girls II." At least then it was time for one of her best songs, "Feathers," and we forgot a little about so many "random" details. Although normalcy didn't last long, because then she got on her knees and started frolicking on the floor during the guitar solo of "Juno."

Finally, of course, "Please, Please, Please" and "Espresso." Impossible to listen to. Too bad. Her fans love to sing along to her songs, and live her songs, and sing them aloud, and they have such high, drunken, and loud voices that it's a little annoying at times. Overall, Sabrina Carpenter delighted a devoted audience, but one that was somewhat confused by what they were seeing. That's all.

On what was a day of absolute female dominance, Waxahatchee kicked off the evening with their exquisite blend of indie folk and Americana. Katie Crutchfield took her band name from a river next door and began singing songs that seemed to be coming from the house right next door. Her voice vibrates like the strings of a violin, which makes her unique. Combined with her unique ability to find earthy, organic, tribal melodies, her set was a kind of oasis in the desert. At the end, she bid everyone a fond farewell and left her guys to finish the concert for her. That's what it means to be the boss.

Another boss was Ellie Rowsell, the singer of Wolf Alice . Her indie rock songs aren't going to revolutionize the music scene or save anyone's life, but they're effective. Ellie at least never gave up trying to put on the best show possible. She even grabbed a megaphone to scream until her voice cracked. With "Silk," her most popular song, she sent us straight to the depths of the dampest and most decadent streets with "Transpotting II." At the end, there were nods to Black Sabbath and White Stripes before finishing with "Don't Delete the Kisses." "Some things are true: it's Friday, Haim will be playing next, and we're going to have a blast," said a dedicated diabetic bassist. There are few, and it's a feat.

And Haim appeared next. The three sisters are no longer as cheerful and spontaneous as when they debuted at Primavera some 15 years ago, but they're still endearing. Hampered by a clear lack of rhythm, their performance became somewhat stiff and lacked the vitality that had once been their hallmark. They even started asking questions to a lighted sign behind them. Like Steve Martin in 'LA Story,' this sign took on a life of its own. IA? More like IO! "Now that I'm single, will I find a boyfriend tonight at the festival?" asked the brunette, Danielle, before launching into their classic "Don't Save Me." These are the moments that are worthwhile. Their first songs will always be young. That's what music is all about, freezing exact time. Praise be.

At the same time, Zaho de Sagazan confirmed herself as one of the big surprises of the day. This petite Frenchwoman, dressed as an altar boy, revolutionized the amphitheater stage with her colorful and theatrical techno-pop. Her deconstruction of Neo-chanson was full of passion and left her and her audience on the floor. "I'm very sensitive and I cry a lot. Until recently, I thought that was bad, but now I make songs and cry at the piano, and that's changed my life," she said, returning to her emotional electronic music with shouts of "Sadness! Sadness!"

Earlier, Stephen Malkmus returned to Primavera with a new lineup, The Hard Quartet, and here they are… A dad rock band for the festival's most veterans. The concert screens are so high-resolution that you can see time captured in every wrinkle of each musician. You also perfectly see the sweat and fatigue of the singers, which yesterday seemed about to melt away due to the terrible afternoon heat. Malkmus was no exception. Even so, the Pavement singer moved like a fish in water with his band's eccentric rock with retro blues rock touches.

And here the enthusiasm slowed down a bit, as the lineup didn't seem to support Sabrina Carpenter, but rather to go against her. Primavera literally split in two. Completely. On one side, young foreigners in search of pop lightness and abandon. And on the other, the more mature crowd in search of the classic beauty of alternative music. Just think of the atmospheric tedium of Beach House, in one of the longest sets of the night. Or at least that's how it seemed. Dream pop, when it doesn't inspire, lulls and depresses, and that's what happened to the Baltimore band, something Sabrina Carpenter's fans didn't want to experience now or in the coming years. Not even unquestionable songs like "Myth" sounded convincing.

Finally, Stereolab returned to their influential and effective French-inspired 1960s pop, without much more to add. "A round of applause for Stereolab, one of the best bands out there," said Tunde Adebimpe, singer of TV on the Radio, in one of the night's highlights. Their performance of "Wolf Like Me," their classic, took the audience back to those nights in the early 2000s when avant-garde guitar rock swept New York and then the world. And then there was Diego Ibañez, singer of Carolina Durante, heroically on crutches. The Spaniards didn't look out of place and attracted many new foreign fans.