Festival season is in, if not full swing, then at least a moderate sway. London has built up an enviable range of festivals over the last few years, from the fun of Victoria Park’s Lovebox and Field Day, to the less-fun ‘O’ ‘2’ ‘Wireless’, bringing the Kooks to the capital’s densest denizens.

These latter messes have been enough to make people look to continental Europe for a decent fest, like Serbia’s Exit and Spain’s Benicassim. Barcelona’s Primavera was one of the first this season; yet despite a line-up boasting Devo, the Sonics, Public Enemy, and stars under the pensionable age like London’s Lightspeed Champion and Harvard’s jangliest graduates Vampire Weekend, it was strangely empty. Barcelonans evidently don’t know how good they’ve got it.

Still, London will be seeing one of the festival’s highlights Health at the Old Blue Last this Thursday. The noise rockers flood out their lyrics – and pretty much else – by the pounded-out drumming of the enormous Benjamin Miller. He may be terrifying to watch thumping the heck out of Glitter Pills, but it’s incredible to behold.

While Health got the coveted sundown spot on the Vice Magazine stage overlooking the Mediterranean, Vampire Weekend were, bizarrely, the stage’s closing act on day one. Indeed, after a night when Portishead created a noise riot with Machine Gun, VW were left wide open to their oft-accused crime of being a bit Ivy League, a bit knowing.

They’re playing Primavera, and the audience are looking for something with more bite, but the band seem eager to finish up and take their private plane somewhere with fewer oiks. As if to underline the point, only their singles get any traction with the audience. Despite the unhinged scheduling, they could have done more with the slot.

The same can’t be said of middle-aged flowerpot men Devo who bring the energy, but are rather creaky, running around stage looking in need of a nice sit-down. The tight choreography and music seemed to become something of a chore, as they propped the whole shebang up with increasingly forced visuals. By the end, it was getting uncomfortable to watch (see also: the Sonics).

Ageing but not tiring, Public Enemy toured their way through (nearly) the whole of “It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back”. Given his reality TV rebirth you would half-expect Flavor Flav to be getting lazy, but he’s got easily as much thrust as Chuck D. He’s nothing if not the consummate entertainer.

On a quieter note, Cardiff’s reformed Young Marble Giants took the auditorium by twinkly fairy dust, led by little puffling Alison Stratton through their thirty-year-old material, which sure as heck held up better than Public Enemy’s charade.

As, indeed, did the festival bill in general. We could do with a festival cull here in London – and it’d be worth it for one as decent as this.