Worthy
Farm, Pilton, Somerset: the eyes of the world are upon you. Again.
I’ve read
about 742 blogs and articles with titles like “The Worst Kind Of Person At A
Festival”, or “Nine Wankers To Avoid At Glastonbury”, or “Why Glasto Is Shit”. Reading the first of these, a couple of years
ago, I did raise a chuckle, and nod in agreement: I also dislike mainstream rock bands and
obnoxious people in crowds. So, if
you’re looking for someone to make you feel better about not going, maybe
google one of the titles above. (NB: each of
these articles is less witty and amusing than the last.)
So, this is
neither a “Ugh! Shut UP about
Glastonbury it’s rubbish I’m soooo glad I’m not there the line-up is shit” or a
“LOVE GLASTO #glasters” facebook status, a “H8ers gon’ H8” tweet, or a “Who’s
going on Thursday? Any space in the car for meee?” plea.
For the
record, I’m not going this year, but I have been there, and I don’t think it’s
The Best Thing Ever or The Worst Thing Ever.
For example,
from a personal point of view, Glastonbury 2009 was mixed, at times a bit crap
and underwhelming – but I’ll always remember a great gig in Greg’s little venue
(which I emptied and then filled again – oh yes) in Shang-Gri-La, and drinking
with Glen after. However, above all
else, I’ll always remember it as the time and place I first encountered The
People’s Front Room. I remember Sarah looking
at me the way I have seen her look at many others, presumably thinking: Oh yeah, a dude with an acoustic guitar, that’s interesting. And what makes you so special? I remember
Robbie scratching his naked belly and heckling me obnoxiously – and then him
and Brian feeding me shots of some foul-tasting spirit immediately after my
set. Oh Yes, I loved the place from the
start.
Glastonbury
2010, on the other hand, was possibly my best ever festival experience
(probably joint winner with Shambala 2013); The PFR in full effect, blazing
sunshine throughout, great company, beautiful sunrise/sunsets, some superb
music, and all capped by dancing my cute and sober little ass off at the
Pyramid Stage with Stevie Wonder and a million others, and then heading
straight to Arcadia for the big fire show.
#glasto
#goodtimes
(Also,
Germany humped England in the World Cup, which is pretty good fun for a
Scotland fan.)
Every other
year I’ve been has been better than ’09, but not quite as good as ’10.
The
Glastonbury Festival for Contemporary Performing Arts is a lot like London:
it's
big, it's exciting, it's dirty, it smells, it takes an hour to get anywhere,
you know loads of people there but never see any of them, everyone elsewhere
wants to be there without realising what it's actually like, it’s crowded but
can be very lonely, the very best and very worst of humanity is on display
(though the best tends to be quieter than the worst), there's some
really great bands, some really terrible bands - and an endless supply of
very average, very ambitious bands.
It’s
Rome, all roads lead to it, it’s the British Empire on which the sun never
sets, it’s puffed up on its own importance (and cocaine), it’s the centre of
everything – and there is plenty of sex, drugs, rock, roll, disillusionment,
vomiting, bad trips, good trips, political indifference/naivety/apathy/radicalism,
drunken twats, hilarious, people, big-hearted, generous people, big groups of
friends who don’t talk to people they aren’t already friends with, sound
systems, record company wankers, over-priced food, stupid hats, people saying
It’s Not As Good As It Was Ten Years Ago, It’s A Nightmare Now and horrible
public toilets to go round.
It’s
full of its own significance – a significance which is, from the outside,
recognised and resented in equal measure.
It’s on
the BBC morning, noon and night, and 99% of the coverage is focussed on the
bland or obnoxious, even though anyone who has been there knows there is an
almost infinite supply of interesting people and experiences to meet/have/talk
about.
And
that's my review of the recent years of Glastonbury.
Obviously, my
experience of London was very similar to the above. With regard to both places, I’m glad I was
there, I enjoyed myself a lot, had some great times and some awful times, some thoroughly
underwhelming and wonderfully overwhelming experiences, met some interesting
and/or lovely people (and, of course, a few really awful people – a very, very
small proportion, it must be said) and made friends with some of them, marvelled
at the human capacity for drugs, parties, sexual tension, public idiocy, love,
greed, repression, indifference, extreme twattishness, joyous co-mingling, and
everything else we might reasonably expect in a place crowded with humans from
a wide variety of backgrounds.
It was
everything that’s good and a lot of what is not so good about being alive in
this place at this time. I spent much of
it in a smoky haze, and I was younger and less healthy. And I am glad to be in a calmer place (both
physically and mentally) now.
It’s a great
place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to be there all the time….anything that big
and varied can’t be just one thing (or, at least, not for very long).
I like Glastonbury a lot but I felt
like a break was over/due: I’ve been to the last five, and they were mostly
really good, but it is all pretty hectic. I’ve found that as I get older, as much as I
like a drink, it’s more fun if I do it a bit less….so, it’s kind of like that,
which is why this year I went away for a great trip (more on that later) that
over-lapped Glasto just slightly. If I’d
really really wanted, I could have done both, but it would have been hassle, so
it seemed like a good time to sit one out.
Hopefully I’ll be able to go next year and will have the old excitement
back.
If you’re there, hope you’re having a
great time.
If you’re not there, hope you’re
having a great time.
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