A fourth day of a festival is a bewildering concept for some, and we’ve still got one more to go at Mad Cool 2022. Still, one mustn’t grumble when we had the likes of Royal Blood, Florence + The Machine, Pixies, Kings Of Leon, Zara Larsson and Mura Masa to keep us going with the feel-good Saturday night vibes.
Here are the best bits of what went down on day four (July 9) of Mad Cool 2022.
Words by: Sam Moore, Hannah Mylrea, Andrew Trendell, Kyann-Sian Williams, Sophie Williams
LEON BRIDGES SPREADS THE LOVE

Strutting on to the stage to funky guitars and sweet jazzy sounds, Atlanta-born Texas-based crooner Leon Bridges has come out to play. And he looks good doing it: wearing a floundering polka-dotted blouse with the largest bell sleeves youâve ever seen. The neo-soul veteran has the sound to match his look, too: like vintage vinyl playing in a speakeasy.
Love is in the air: while playing the minimalist âBeyondâ, Bridges tells the crowd that he âloves love: I donât love someone right now, but I love music and I love yâallâ. After reassuring us of our sexiness (âyâall are so sexyâ, âyâall sound so goodâ), we float away from his Mad Cool set with a heightened sense of self-love. KSW
GANG OF YOUTHS GIVE APATHY THE MIDDLE FINGER

âWhoâs never seen us before?â asks Gang Of Youthsâ Dave Le’aupepe to an impressive early evening crowd at Mad Coolâs Region Of Madrid stage. âWhoâs never even fucking heard of us before? I promise weâll massively fucking disappoint you.â
His brutal Aussie self-deprecation lies at the heart of GoYâs DNA (âThank you for missing an infinitely better band to come watch us,â he later says to those of us who are missing Pixies to be here), but thatâs not to say that heâs on a downer. From the euphoric arena indie of opener âAngel Of 8th Aveâ to the chest-thumping âThe Heart Is A Muscleâ and âLet Me Down Easyâ, the bandâs spirit is infectious. For a man so solidly built, Le’aupepeâs lounge lizard dance moves can only be described as fluid. Introducing the sing-along banger âIn The Wake Of Your Leaveâ, he berates those feeling âtoo cool to danceâ, adding ânow is not the time to be too apathetic to fucking move â if you think thatâs cringe, you can fuck offâ. Amen. ATÂ
PIXIES SHUT UP AND THE PLAY THE HITS

Things you donât expect to see at your average Pixies gig: a man in a full green bodysuit, quite possibly in tribute to Charlie Kellyâs âGreen Manâ alter ego in Itâs Always Sunny In Philadelphia, darting through the crowd and throwing shapes. Things you do expect to see at your average Pixies gig: hit after hit after hit. âGouge Awayâ? Check. âWave Of Mutilationâ? Of course! âCaribouâ? Naturally. No banter â just bangers.
You want more? Donât worry: Black Francis and co. have got you, with âHeyâ, âTameâ, âMonkey Gone To Heavenâ and âVamosâ (which goes down particularly well with the Spanish crowd) all getting an airing during their peerless Mad Cool main stage set. Unsurprisingly, âWhere Is My Mind?â gets the biggest response of the night as seemingly every phone on the festival site lights up to capture the moment, before âDebaserâ gets everyone jumping one last time â with Green Man no doubt leading the charge down the front. SM
MURA MASA KICKS OUT THE JAMS

The electric shock you get from Mura Masaâs pulsating pop is just what you need while cloaked under a tent at a Madrid festival. Mad Cool’s The Loop, therefore, becomes a sweat box full of tunes: not one body is standing still.
Watching one of the newest leaders of new-school pop music in action, you can see first-hand how Mura Masaâs hypnotic jams have got him to the top. Youâd think heâd do a DJ set like most producers do: no. The Guernsey guy comes out with the whole shebang – keyboard, two drum kits, a guitar â like a multi-faceted rock star. Aided by a guest vocalist who hypes up the crowd even more, as well as filling in the instrumental space with the lyrics of Mura Masa’s absent collaborators, itâs the perfect concoction to throw down at Masaâs lilâ get-together. KSW
KINGS OF LEON FOLLOW THEIR HEROES

âDo you know how intimidating it is to play after Pixies?” observes Kings Of Leon vocalist Caleb Followill with a grin, as he drinks in the vast crowd before him. “We love Pixies. They taught me how to scream.” Not only do the frontman and his band have to rise to the challenge of playing right after their heroes, but they also draw in one of the largest crowds that Mad Cool has seen at this yearâs festival; thousands of fans spilling out beyond the confines of the Madrid Is Life stage.
Followill and his Nashville family of rockers eschew all fireworks and instead rely on the emotional power of their enduring anthems to power through their hour-long show. Subtle rainbow lights may accidentally cut out during a soulful rendition of âManhattanâ, but the powerful thrash of âWaste A Momentâ that swiftly follows offers a greater visceral experience. Thereâs a layer of real grit to the group vocals displayed throughout the soaring choruses of âFind Meâ and ‘Milk’, while they hammer their guitars as âRadioactiveâ begins to fade out. Even if that final eruption inevitably comes with âSex On Fireâ, storming newer material such as âThe Banditâ is evidence of a group with more than just a storied history, but a future as well. SW
ZARA LARSSON LAYS ALL HER LOVE ON US

Over on the Region Of Madrid stage, dramatic lights are flashing, people are screaming and the bombastic opening to ‘Love Me Land’ is blasting through the speakers, which can only mean one thing: Zara Larsson is about to take to the stage. âI didnât bring my band with me today, so you have to sing with me extra loud,â she tells the throng of revellers early on, and it’s something that is well and truly taken on-board.
Larsson pulls out all the hits for her evening show. Flanked by four dancers, she blitzes through slick choreography all while belting out a set of career-spanning tunes. From the pulsating electro-bounce of âI Would Likeâ to the jubilant orchestral-pop of âSymphonyâ and a throbbing cover of ABBAâs ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’, itâs outrageously good fun. By the time she closes with the enduring summer hit âLush Lifeâ, the crowd are sweaty, hoarse and thrilled to have watched an hour of pure pop euphoria. HM
EDITORS BOSH OUT SOME BRUMMIE DOOM

ââEditors have Mad Cool in the palm of their hand as Saturday night becomes Sunday morning, drawing impressively big numbers to the festivalâs modest-sized Region Of Madrid stage. The seasoned Birmingham band kick things off with their April single âHeart Attackâ before their synth-drenched 2009 track âPapillonâ inspires one big Mad Cool dance-off.
Old favourites âAn End Has A Startâ, âBloodâ and âSmokers Outside The Hospital Doorsâ carry on this good feeling as the set progresses, before the driving and still-sublime âMunichâ â which, weâre afraid to report, is now 17 years old (!) â ends the night on just the right note. SM
FLORENCE + THE MACHINE INVITES US INTO HER CULT

It’s gone midnight in Madrid, and a constellation made from thousands of flashing phone lights is twinkling into life across the crowd over on Mad Coolâs main stage. Seeing Florence Welch perform âCosmic Lifeâ live, aglow not just with the washes of bright light before her but a sense of unbridled joy, is like briefly entering a parallel universe where she is seen as a Messiah figure: when the London vocalist leans down to kiss the head of a fan on the barrier, they begin to sob with disbelief. Itâs a beguiling, otherworldly moment.
Welchâs voice sounds clear and resonant as she runs laps across the stage in time to the euphoric rushes of both noise and emotion that define her celestial, anthemic pop. âMy Loveâ is a swell of hallucinatory disco, while the closing crescendo of âKingâ comes off to thrilling effect. And when the crowd yells an impromptu final run through the chorus of breakout hit âDog Days Are Overâ, Welch looks truly overjoyed. âYou are now all part of the cult of Florence + The Machine,â she tells us later, before stepping back into her dream world once more. SW
ROYAL BLOOD SPREAD A LITTLE SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER

âIâve gotta tell ya, my mind is blown by how many fucking people are here,â Royal Blood frontman Mike Kerr tells the shedloads of revellers who fill this dusty plane of AstroTurf at a time when many usually make the early morning crawl home. âWeâre here to have a lot of fun,” he continues. “Would you like to meet Ben Thatcher?â The drummer then takes a bow, regularly stalking the stage and necking tequila like he owns the place.
The dancefloor hedonism of their latest album âTyphoonsâ turns this rock bash into a house party, with the shimmy of âBoilermakerâ and wedding disco strut of âMillion And Oneâ spreading a nice bit of Saturday night fever. The extended bass solo of âHook Line And Sinkerâ and the feral âLittle Monsterâ also let the rockers get their mosh on. âSometimes I wanna play, and sometimes I just wanna take it all in,â adds Kerr. âWhat I wanna say is: I fucking love youâ. Mad Cool feels exactly the same. AT
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