I’m no stranger to the festival so I shouldn’t knock one I’ve never attended. Too much of the CBA attitude for me though if I’m honest. It just looks too massive and it’s on in term time so I’d have no chance of getting the time off anyway.
However… I had high hopes for this years BBC coverage. My Glasto app was downloaded to my phone (and to the Bear’s iPad). I could stream the entire MoFo from the comfort of my own bed and immerse myself in the full virtual experience with a mug of tea in hand and no possibility of having to share my ablution space with 30,000 campers (or trustafarian Hoorays with plastic flowers in their perfectly coiffured hair).
If I’m honest though I felt slightly ripped off.
Sadly lacking in enough ‘behind the scenes’ weird and wonderful of the Shangri-La area and the ‘hippy’ shit for my liking and if I saw the feedback fest of those young lads from Ireland (Strypes?) I saw them a dozen times! Feck off!
What I did see on prime time viewing was a selection of generic, carefully crafted ‘just got out of bed’ barnetted acoustic jockeys. All doubtless spawned in the same lab as Ed Sheeran and that odd-faced little fella who married Roald Dahl’s grand-daughter.
Also – Example? Chase & Anus? Professor ‘I’m not Eminem but think I am’ Green? Really?
Thank christ for Public Enemy (though lacking a certain edge without Flav and a bit weird with Chuck D urging everyone to Tweet him). #Prophetsofrage ?
The S1W’s looked more like they’d been securing the biscuit barrel for their own ends rather than securing the First World over the last 20 years if I’m brutally honest… (but I can talk!)
Also great to see the Stones out of cryogenic stasis long enough to strut about a bit before the Deep Heat wore off and they had to be returned to their hermetically sealed Winnebago before sun-up.
What better way to drift off to sleep on a Sunday night though than to listen to the dulcet tones of Bobby Womack (and his amazing voiced daughter too!)
And all without having to trudge back to tent city with a couple of bailing kids trailing behind me, mithering me for late night chips.
I think the older artists rocked it personally – The Stones, Portishead, P.E, Seasick Steve, Tom Tom Club, Kenny fecking Rogers FFS!!
Maybe next year I’ll go (but probably not….)
I’ve nicked this from a friend on FB, who shared it from The Guardian’s Grace Dent. (Same friend also summed it all up for me with his status which read:-
“The One Show – Live from Galstonbury – I despair!” – which made me chuckle no end.
I can sympathise and I know my childerbeast can. They will no doubt need therapy in years to come, as the subconscious memories resurface of me, going the full Kinetic two-Step in my wellies and poncho to Inner City last year at Magic Loungeabout, whilst urging them to join in.
We’re going on a proper holiday this year kids. I promise. (So OK it’s still self-catering but at least we’re don’t need to queue up to shit in a portaloo!)
Remember though campers. These opinions are mine and mine alone (apart from the people who feel the same way of course).
I love a good festival as much as the next man but sometimes the nation forgets that there are dozens of others going on every year that are just as good but never get the airplay. Just because they haven’t got Bruce Forsyth as a novelty act or a bunch of 70’s year olds gyrating about in skinny jeans and presented on TV by vacuous liggers pretending to have a real job.
Am I jealous? I might be a little bit. (But a lot of it still looked and sounded crap).
I should perhaps post ‘Don’t Belive the Hype’ but instead I am going for ‘Fight The Power’:- (One of my favourite tracks ever – and I will always be amused at the memory of doing the washing up with the kids to this on Y6 residential earlier this year!)
Thanks to The Independent and my old backpacking recycling pal – David Rankin