NAO: WHAT’S RESCUED FROM PS2016

After hours watching how the rocket was waiting to launch, the moment arrived; we were able to see what Primavera Sound 2016 was going to be. One more time, there are as many reactions as personalities. There’s the one that shouts and celebrates, the one that doesn’t really know what to say and the typical “well it could be better, right?” guy. In my case, I got three big questions: why did we doubt PXXR GVNG were going to be there? Why didn’t I check Grimes’s agenda before dreaming of watch her live at Fórum? And, above all: why aren’t Los Chichos one of the headliners?

We’ll criticise the band mash up, we’ll state who’s missing and then we’ll spend the next months trying to listen to some of the artists to make us like them and not have to re-sell our pass. I recommend you one: NAO, probably the name that thrilled me the most to read. The most informed ones will recognize her as the vocalist (and composer) of “Superego”, song included in Caracal, last album by Disclosure. But the truth is that this English girl was already causing expectation with her first two EPs, thanks to which the media and their recurring rankings can’t avoid placing her as one of the up and coming names of this year that has just begun. Nao is cool. Real soul, no pretending, with a feeling but electronic and from the city. Nao is cool and we’re gonna watch her live.

JONPAUL DOUGLASS: LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

The infinite scroll of Tumblr or Pinterest are just evil vice, specially when you’ve got a thousand million mails to answer and you can’t be less bothered. Having a look at your phone is a synonym for going on Instagram and the same happens with Tinder and Jonpaul Douglass’s webpage; it’s impossible to stop going down and wanting more and more and more. This LA photographer enchanted us months ago with this “Pizza In The Wild” series, but this time we’ve also fallen in love with his still life and sense of humour. Jonpaul likes dogs, dinosaurs, Nintendo and coffee. And we like him.

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SÓNAR 2016: NOT MUCH TIME LEFT FOR THE NEW YEAR

We’re gonna try not to bother you with the pre-Sónar excitement we feel; for the moment, we’re only going to offer you a sneak peek. You well know our year begins in mid-June, specifically when we start dancing with a couple of beers already inside our hot bodies in the Sónar by day area. Well, beloved readers, the countdowns begins; the very famous electronic music festival has announced 40 more artists for this year’s edition and our eyes are already sparkling (not for the meat delights of the video). To the already confirmed Anohni, John Grant, New Order, The Black Madona and Skepta, now we got new names on the list, such as, watch out, Jean-Michel Jarre, Bob Moses, James Blake, Jamie Woon, Club Cheval, Kelela, Flume… And Four Tet and Laurent Garnier djing for the stunning amount of 7 hours. We got the shakes already.

TONY IS BACK: PROSTITUTES, TERRORISTS, BEAT UPS AND FROSTIES

Remember when you were 5 years old and you wanted to be a policeman, a fireman, a detective and a football player by the age of 40? From our monotonous and sedentary adult life we see how we’ve turned into that we feared; cussing dirty beings way too close to toxic dependencies.

Some months ago, the marvellous bin that the Internet is started showing a series of Frosties ad that perfectly reflect how our generation has degraded. In them, Tony the Tiger, the brand’s mascot, steps out to the streets and solves the dramas of those kids he fed 20 years ago. He helps a prostitute taking out the “tiger inside” and perform a pro level BJ, a cop beat up a woman and a suicide terrorist to kill herself in a burger restaurant. Tony is worried; he’s opened a webpage for us to tweet whatever can solve our generation.

Kelloggs has already said these fake ads have nothing to do with the company so who’s behind this piece of art? They have a pretty admirable production in the level of a big advertising firm and a very strong critical component to our generation and probably (though it’s not noticeable) to the Kelloggs politics. This is the new age Area 51.

RIIKKA HYVÖNEN: POLYCHROME BUTTS

One more year, we’ve overcome Xmas time and the cycle of family meetings, Xmas carols, over-sugared kids and corny TV shows with it. We proudly say goodbye to all those elements that diabolically represent this festivity, but we can’t say cheerio to the lamb, pork, booze, pies, yorkshire puddings and cocktails that are hanging to our abdominal area like a chav to a Primark top. “It’s normal, it’s January” is the weak excuse that we all use whilst trying to believe that February will be a magical corset that will leave you with a lovely post-war body; let’s face it, you’ll have to sweat it all. Your new friends the love handles will only leave facing our demons at the gym.

There’s tonnes of ways to do it and all of them are horrible; beginning with zumba with a bag full of bricks to sauna yoga with steam, pain and zero dignity. Riikka Hyvönen shows us on her painting the suffering of different butts when, wearing roller skates, have kissed the ground. Polychrome butts that clearly reflect the martyrdom against Xmas excesses.

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MOLLY CRANNA: THE MASTER OF STILL LIFE

We’re already in 2016, last year is far away by now and everything we posted back then it’s forgotten, so we wanted to start the engines again with a new post on still life and clean images, this time brought by artist Molly Cranna. She works with pink, blue and white and does wonders with them, she likes flash and we’re sure her storage room must be paradise for those who like to hoard a little bit. Molly Cranna makes everything that her camera captures shine and turns scrap into “holy crap!”.

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LA MONDA MAGAZINE WISHES YOU A HAPPY NEW YEAR

You began just like we did, waking up on the 1st of January thinking very hard on how 2015 was going to be your year. Then you blinked a couple of times and it was December and the month looked at you like real rappers must look at Kanye West and said “nah, just no”. We understand the feeling; we’ve been through that too.

However, let’s just think about it for a minute. In 2015 we’ve survived natural, economic and cultural catastrophes, Xmas bacchanalia, the “hello, it’s me” madness, detox juices and whatever normcore was with more or less elegancy. We’ve made a fool out of ourselves, we’ve done bad, good, not too bad, awful and Sonar. We’ve been rewarded, we’ve learnt, we’ve forgotten. Enrique Iglesias survived a drone attack and we didn’t magically wake up one day being as retrograde as Donald Trump. We didn’t prove that spontaneous combustion, in fact, exists. There’s been 365 dawns and sunsets, and for free.

2015 was our year, as the one that starts today will be, because every year is our year. Look around a lot, not in a horror film style, but as if you just arrived from Saturn and everything was new. Happy 2016!