Florence and the Machine

In fact, one of the big hits, “Dog Days Are Over,” which usually closes their concerts, was played early on. It was the last dance floor hit before entering the ritual the singer-songwriter had prepared. She started by addressing the audience, thanking the festival and Madrid, and then asking everyone to put their mobile phones away. No more recording, no more talking. Full communion and hugs among everyone. A rock mass whose soundtrack was “Big God”—Florence Welch has the ability to eroticize even Jesus Christ to whom she whispers with moans—and “Dream Girl Evil” while hugging some ecstatic front-row spectators. The ritual erupted like a volcano with “My Love.”

After another hit like “Spectrum,” there was another intimate moment of the night: Florence confessed that she hadn’t sung “Never Let Me Go” for ten years because it reminded her of a time in her life when she had problems with alcohol. It is, in fact, a song from “Ceremonials,” her second album, which left the audience overwhelmed by the singer’s vulnerability. She wrapped up the show with “Hunger,” another disco banger, which was followed by “Shake It Out,” though it didn’t last long as the singer, who didn’t stop running from side to side of the stage for two hours (without dropping even half an octave), ended with “Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up),” which closed the setlist. By then, the audience would have had the singer—who, by the way, seemed like she didn’t want to leave the stage (the smiles were constant)—there all night long. Because when it ended, everyone knew they had just witnessed one of those legendary moments that are rarely experienced and that no mobile phone, no matter how many songs were recorded, can ever reproduce.