Wed 24 Jun – Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts
It’s taken me bloody ages to write this. Not because I’ve spent a lot of time on it, but because I’ve spent very little time on it over a long period. The result is that as I complete it my memory and enthusiasm have both waned slightly, but I hope you still enjoy it anyway (I’m currently completing this section at 2 in the morning as I can’t sleep. My creativity and grammar is not at its strongest level). If I’ve tagged you it’s because I’ve mentioned you or you’ve expressed interest in reading it. Here’s a guide to the review system I’ll be using:
* Shite
** A Bit Meh
*** Good Stuff
**** Excellent
***** Legendary
Important Appreciation for all the “John Doe”s.
Everyone bangs on about the sheer scale and size of Glastonbury and they’re not wrong. The place is friggin’ huge. But what the BBC coverage of Glastonbury doesn’t get across is the importance of the little tents. Scattered across the site are tens of venues, all housing band and artists that you may not have heard of but are probably much better than household names over on the main stages.
Over the course of my time I saw a lot of bands whose names I never found out, yet most of them dazzled me and were easily the highlights of my weekend. So credit to that great funk band I saw on Thursday in a marquee I never saw again. Or the modern Ska band that were so energetic I thought the lead singer might explode. I’ll forgive them for their blatant rip off of Immortal Techniques’ “Dance With The Devil”, as they produced a set that made Madness seem moribund (in fact I didn’t bother seeing Madness the next day because I knew they’d seem stale in comparison). And props to the psychedelic folk band that provided the perfect soundtrack when I started having “flu-esq”, dreamy semi-hallucinations that I was a flea on Lee Morris’ beard.
However the top prize goes to the jazz/fusion/dance/techno outfit I saw after Blur. After Damon and Co’s epic set I was determined to keep of dancing, and this unknown band was fucking unbelievably tight and intense. When I entered the tent nobody was grooving, but by the time I left there was a dance floor of love. The perfect end to my first Glastonbury experience! But hang on… I haven’t even talked about the beginning yet…
WEDNESDAY (aka The Big Queue)
The party atmosphere kicked off on the train. A load of mouthy Londoners proceeded to shout at platform dwellers on every station that “*insert city here* was a shit hole”. This was accompanied by a live soundtrack as two DJ’s performing at the festival were sat opposite me, deciding what tunes to play by blasting them on their mobile phones.
Arriving at the tiny, two-platform station of Castle Cary we were informed that disaster had struck on both the M4 and M5, with diversions sent via the Glastonbury road. The coachers were backlogged, chaos everywhere, a 3 hour wait for the coach. Fitzy and I killed the time by playing a sad Dream Theater based game, and the crowd pleasing A-Z game (If you can’t think of a “U” for foods, sweets, snacks etc – always go with Umbongo). The atmosphere in the queue was grand, a band set up and starting blasting out various jazzed-up cover versions, and we started playing trivia games with a lovely middle ages woman.
By the time we arrived the sun had set. Once we finally found a spot (although it involved kicking somebody’s fire away) pitching a tent in the pitch black (ho!) was actually a lot easier than I’d dreaded. This gave us time to skin up and have a (relatively) quick tour of the festival site (a lot of the main areas and stages were closed off). This is when the size of the place really hit me. Along our travels I noticed a loud woman pushing a pram exclaiming “come on – out of my way!” As I glanced down I saw a small 4 year old girl with a handlebar moustache. This was my first official Glastonbury “did I just see that?” moment. Later on I used common sense to figure out it must have been a stick-on moustache, but by God did it throw me at the time.
We eventually ended up at the Stone Circle where a band had struck up and were covering the “Thomas The Tank Engine” theme tune in a gypsy punk fashion. 5 stars to them.
Sleepy time came early as I was exhausted after a long day of travelling. Just as I was about to drop off I was awoken by a torrent of abuse. “Which CUNT has pitched his tent where I planned to have my fire!? Right that’s it I’ll start a fire out the front of his tent, I don’t care if it catches fire. He hasn’t even pegged it in properly, I could rip it all off”.
Oh great. I was camped by a nutter.
THURSDAY (aka Stoned in the Stone Circle)
With a whole day to kill before the music kicked off Fitzy used his noggin and suggested going into Glastonbury town to pick up some cheap alcohol. A wise idea I’d recommend to anybody (I got to buy some cheap food, use a decent toilet and have a reasonably priced White Russian in the warm comfort of a pub).
On returning back I was confronted by my nutter. “Why the fuck have you put your tent there?” I’ll be honest with you all, I was slightly petrified. I calmly explained the situation of how we’d arrived extremely late, had searched for a camping space for ages and we’re generally fed up and wanted to make camp.
“Oh well that’s alright then, you seem like nice lads. I understand. Sorry about last night”.
It was that simple. His name was Arin and he slowly became our festival legend. But more on him later.
We plodded on over to the Stone Circle to meet up with Lee and Natasha, two lovely people I’d met at Zappa Plays Zappa. The Stone Circle in the day is a lovely place to relax and many spliffs were shared as we discussed wrestling, music and the amount of coprophiliacs at Glastonbury. Lee discussed his upcoming evening/gig called “Night of the Living Ched” that was going to feature S&M Karaoke, Musical Unstatues and an entire band of people miming to Frank Zappa songs. It sounded like heaven (why don’t we have anything remotely interesting like that in York? I think it’s up to Lee and I to provide at Kaptain’s Komedy Klub – coming to you this October!). Unfortunately I ended up getting too stoned (it has been a while since I smoked that much) and it made me all introverted and slightly paranoid. Still a very enjoyable afternoon… if only life could be like that all the time.
Night came and the music began. Proceedings commenced with a bit of dub step in the form of Raffertie (*** - Dance Lounge). Surprisingly this was the only dub step of the festival I witnessed which is strange due to its ever growing popularity. The “yoot” fucking love dub step, myself included. It’s interesting because I remember being played some dub step a few years back and found it lacklustre and repetitive. The genre really seems to have progressed at an extraordinary rate. Raffertie was your standard dub step affair but got myself and everyone moving.
We were really here for Beardyman (** - Dance Lounge) though. I’d seen the cheeky beatboxer a couple of months ago in York and he’d put on a belter of a show. That gig lacked atmosphere but the Glastonbury crowd exploded when he started dropping his beats. However it soon became apparent that he was doing a (dare I say it?) “commercial” set for the masses. The structure basically went: beatboxing dnb – chart song – beatboxing dub step – chart song – beatboxing trance – chart song. It’s fucking cool what he does, but all the really special elements of the York gig were dropped (cleverly looped songs about cheese, Dougal & Gammer style rave sections and improvised songs based on audience requests – in York he did “Once In A Livetime” by Talking Heads over Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” completely off the cuff).
After that we did some tent strolling and saw John Doe(s) before settling on Deathray Trebuchay (**** - Club Dada). Now I wish I could tell you more about this band, but this is one of the surprisingly few Glastonbury occasions where my memory betrays me. All I remember is that they were bat-shit mental, completely all over the place but consistently rocking and danceable. The audience loved them and they official started the moment where the party REALLY kicked off…
FRIDAY (aka Mal Webb Raises the Bar)
If you told me my first official day at Glastonbury would have started by watching Bjorn Again (*** - Pyramid Stage) in the drizzling rain and actually quite enjoying it, I would have laughed you off the face of Pilton. Still such is the spirit of Glastonbury that is what happened. The highlight was “S.O.S” which, after much teasing, segued into The Police song of the same name. It made me remember that Abba’s music is actually quite good (but I still refuse to watch Mama Mia) Even a bizarre and pre-emptive cover of “Rocking All Over The World” couldn’t put a dampener on the proceedings.
The hybrid sounds and electric oud of Speed Caravan (*** - Jazz/World) were excellent but seemed slightly ill suited for a bright mid-afternoon spot. A lack of atmosphere forced us inside, just in time for a live stage version of BBC Radio 4’s The Early Edition (**** - Cabaret Tent) featuring Marcus Brigstocke and Phil Jupitus and two other people discussing the day’s papers. Of course there was a lot of emphasis that Farrah Fawcett had died, but this soon became a discussion of how dead Minks can be used as serviceable condoms. The big news though was that Phil Jupitus is actually funny, it seems having free range to use naughty language and discuss adult topics brings out the best in him.
Ah Regina Spektor (**** - Pyramid Stage), I was warned I would fall in love. With the sun finally breaking through the setting was perfect for Miss Spektor and her small band setup (Cello, Violin, Drums). Her voice sounded as wonderful as it does on record, yet with new arrangements that offered a unique live experience. In between songs she upped the cute factor; gushing about how happy she was to play in her adorable voice (although she got a little rude when she claimed people were “fucking next door” to her music). Back off Ollie Bucket, she’s mine.
You’ve probably heard The Egg (*** - Dance East) even if you haven’t heard of them, because one of their songs features of the Citroen C4 advert. I hope for their sake that isn’t the high point of their career as their electronic dance, funk and improve was tight and really got the crowd moving at half past two in the afternoon.
Then it happened. Strolling over for a bit of relaxation at Future Fields we stumbled across Mal Webb (***** - The Bike Powered Stage). It’s hard to capture in words how his hour long set made me feel. It’s also quite hard to describe exactly what he does. But in a tent of about 20 people, when I least expected it, I witnessed the best act I saw in Glastonbury. I will attempt to describe Mal’s set now, but I know no words can do justice to the sheer enjoyment I felt.
Mal is a bald, Australian man. He’s an extremely talented multi-instrumental and beat boxer. He uses a looping pedal to maximum effect to create an entire, and wholly convincing, band. He writes interesting and happy, occasionally complicated and complex, songs which always have a catchy chorus and memorable melody. His lyrics make you think “God, I wish I was that witty”, and his in-between song banter is on par with an amazing stand-up comedian. He’s genuinely piss-pantingly funny; the comparison of his head to the African continent, that was filled with cheekily tortured (and clever) puns, was a genius routine. On top of this he made a sound based on "The Molluscum Contagiosum 12x12 Triangle" (see here -
http://malwebb.customer.netspace.net.au/triangle.html) while doing interpretative dance in an almost Brasseye-style spoof of a way.
See does that really do him justice? No it doesn’t.
The good news was that he was playing again the next day.
Meeting up with Minja was swift and easy meaning I got to witness the Easy Star All Stars (*** - Dance East) performing “Dark Side Of The Moon” in it’s eternity, dub style! This CD has been a favourite of mine for quite a while now, but unfortunately something seemed to be missing from the live performance. The sound mix wasn’t great which isn’t going to help for such a dense sounding piece of music. But it wasn’t just that, something else seemed to be missing… a lack of energy maybe? A good performance, just not “great”.
After failing to hold our interest for very long last night, Fizy and I were very interested to see how the Beardyman with The Bays (*** - The Glade) collaboration was going to pan to out. I have to confess that my memory fails me slightly here. I remember it being pretty intense with some epic sections and build ups. I certainly danced a lot. Yet overall it didn’t leave a massive lasting impression. Er, sorry that’s about the best I can do :p
The rest of the night was spent wondering around the various tents.
SATURDAY (Rocking on a Sex Farm near Stonehenge)
After failing to convince Minja and Fitzy to witness Rolf Harris (to be fair it was stupidly crowded) we trotted into the final performance of The Early Edition (*** - Cabaret Tent). It wasn’t as funny as the previous day. However Mr Bridgestock got some solid laughs out of me just by being a very angry man. I’ve always been undecided on Bridgestock, leaning more to “dislike”, but after this and what happened later on… I have a newfound respect for the man.
Strangely the first music of the day came in the form of one of my favourite comedy films of all time. This was undoubtedly the only chance in my life I was going to get to see the mighty <b>Spinal Tap (*** - Pyramid)</b>. It was a humorous and fun yet slightly odd experience. The most interesting factor of seeing Tap live is that the parody is so good the lines of reality and comedy are rather blurred. I wondered how many people in the huge audience thought the band were “real” (My Mother and Nan certainly did when they played Live8). Minja confessed to being quite bored. It also made me realise how subtle the comedy of Guest and Co. is. If you don’t find song titles like “Warmer Than Hell” funny then you’re probably not going to enjoy the rest of it. However for a fan such as myself it was very satisfying to see the infamous Stonehenge (complete with dancing midgets, oh yes) and the band stay completely in character as they flaunted their full-on metal poses. And the songs aren’t bad either really, certainly better than Status Quo (but more about them tomorrow)
I can only think of one person in the world that would make me want to miss Dizzee Rascals’ first time on the Pyramid Stage under the baking sun and that man is the truly legendary The Actor Kevin Eldon (**** - Cabaret Tent). However just as we’re about to enter the tent who do we see recording a VT for TV but Adam and Joe (**** - Cabaret Tent). If you Rascal/Eldon conflict weren’t bad enough I was suddenly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of “celebrity mania”. Stood a few metres away from me were Adam Buxton and Joe Cornish, two men whose voices that I’ve listened to though cheap plastic headphones for somewhere in the region of 300+ hours. If Angelina Jolie, Martin Scorsese or Tervor McDonald (ie. a megastar) were stood to the right of them I’d still be 100x more excited to see A&J. We got asked to “star” in the VT (see here -
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/video/video.php?v=123278124256&subj=647784256) however this meant missing the beginning of Eldon’s set. Unfortunately I didn’t get to “meet” A&J either. I did manage to catch the last 10 mins of Eldon’s set which was hilariously funny, and I very much enjoyed A&J’s “Made-up Jokes” bit too.
It was time for another John Doe (I believe somebody Fitzy enjoyed very much called Jamie Woon) over in the wonderful “Future Fields” before sneaking into a crammed marquee for Mr Bad Science himself Ben Goldacre (**** - Speaker’s Corner). It’s only a few minutes before he announces “Sorry I don’t think I can sit down for much longer…” and kicks the chair away while he carries on his passionate and occasionally humorous rant, challenging everything from “cures” for sexual impotency to the names of mathematical equations with some nerd in the audience. Very enjoyable but alas we had to leave early for…
Shlomo and The Vocal Orchestra (***** - The Glade) plus special guests. And how special they were too; Miss Imogen Heap, DJ Yoda, Jarvis Cocker and er… Marcus Bridgestock of all people. But, in the politest way, FUCK the special guests. The Vocal Orchestra is one of the coolest and mind-blowing projects of all time; a collection of the world’s greatest beatboxers and singers coming together to create a… well… orchestra performing contemporary hits, original improvisations and banging tunes. You know that the project is impressive when Imogen Heap comes on and simply joins the pecking order rather than having her own song. DJ Yoda just manages to “beat” them in a classic call and response decks n beatbox battle. Bridgestock comes on and proceeds to beatbox to a pretty good standard against the latest female world champion who makes the most brilliant chicken noises ever. This is all topped off but a soulful Stevie Wonder cover. When we arrived at the stage the audience was sparse but by the end it’s tailing back as far as the eye can see. Everyone there knows they’re witnessing something special.
What on earth could top that? Mal Webb (***** - The Bike Powered Stage) does a pretty good job with a completely different set from yesterday (although he did include the “African head” routine, but this time sped-up to avoiding pissing off people who can yesterday which made it even funnier). One of the many highlights includes an improvised audience participation song, in which a young and slightly confused blonde girl gets up on stage and is encouraged to come out with whatever she likes. “This Guy Is Really Weird” becomes my official Glastonbury anthem. Mal builds a full hip-hop song around this sample. He then performs a song about a “pac-rack” singing it in various different languages. It’s mental. Mental and brilliant. I impatiently buy 2 CDs afterwards even though I can’t afford it.
And this, my friends, is where my night ends. Well not really of course, it’s just I’ve spent too long getting round to writing this review and that factor – mixed with the fact I was very intoxicated – means I have no idea what happened the rest of Saturday night. I’m pretty sure we sure some amazing unknown bands, a bit of Bruce Springsteen and free Hare Krishna food. But trust me it was epic…
SUNDAY (Just a flea on a beard... (And Jack's Top 10 Tips))
“Unfortunately we’ve had to cut down our setlist” moans Francis Rossi, which I find rather ironic as Status Quo (* - Pyramid Stage) really could have benefited from a shorter stage time. Some of you might think “why the hell go and see Quo in the first place?” and that’s a valid point, but I hold sentimentality for essentially the greatest pub band in the world. However the Quo don’t seem to be enjoying themselves despite the old todgers being lucky enough to play in front of Christ-knows-how-many on a beautiful day. The problem is that Quo fill most of their set with songs nobody has heard of and they’re really quite dire. We leave long before the inevitable smash that would have been “Rocking Over The World”, but the patience to wait for it simply isn’t worth it. What was going on at The Other Stage?
I’d seen Art Brut (**** - Other Stage) about 5 years ago playing with The Hot Puppies and decided to take a punt. My, how they’ve progressed! Within a few minutes front man Eddie Argos was crazily leaning over the barriers into the crowd ranting about trips to art museums. Humorous songs about chocolate milkshake, 15 year old girls and loving public transport swiftly followed, all to a pulsing beat and memorable riffs. During one song the band spitefully mocked the Kings of Leon and The Killers in a relentless, monotone and repetitive fashion (akin to a Stewart Lee routine). You could tell they were getting off on the possibility of offending people, and along with some crowd surfing Art Brut made me feel happy to be a young person again listening to young people’s music. If only all “cool” NME indie rock music shite was this good.
The Welsh flags are out in mass, which can only mean one thing. Unfortunately Tom Jones (*** - Pyramid Stage) is having sound problems. Luckily, thanks to a mass audience chant of “turn it up”, this is rectified in time for “Green Green Grass of Home” which starts a monsoon of middle-aged Welsh women crying into their 2 litre cider bottles; a truly beautiful moment. Hit after hit after hit follows accompanied by mass singalongs and Tom, to his credit, sounds really, really good. Quo could learn a thing or two by spreading out the hits throughout the set. Minja and I leave during a strange cover version of EMF’s “Unbelievable” to try and catch the end of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs set. However the Other Stage is running 20 minutes under schedule and we arrive in time to see Nick Zinner smashing his guitar to fuck. Oh well… there’s always Leeds, isn’t that right Jew?
Some John Doe(s) (including the hippy band where I started having a mini-hallucination) and a “legal pill” (ignore the doubters, the things work) follow before Minja gets her big wish – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (**** - Pyramid Stage). From the moment Cave walks on stage I instantly feel about 10x cooler than I ever have. Even though I’m not overly familiar with most of the songs I instantly feel attached to them and the (admittedly) short set absolutely flies by (the ultimate highlight being “Right Red Hand”). Not all of the crowd seem to be able to get into it however, which creates even more of a “fuck you, we’re genuinely rock n roll” feel as they create all sorts of noise and distortion during most of their songs. There’s something in the air and with the sun slowly setting behind him Nick Cave and his band create an undoubtedly memorable moment, made all the more memorable by the split of opinion in the audience. Just a shame the set was FAR too short.
I remember the first time Glastonbury really entered my consciousness. It was on BBC Three in 2003 when Radiohead headlined. I remember thinking that particular set (and setting) was absolute magical, and it was that concert that got me into Radiohead. The following year people went mad for Paul McCartney and the mass “Hey Jude” sing-along was an undeniably awesome moment. I desperately wished I was there. Blur (***** - Pyramid Stage) may have not been the “best” artist I saw that weekend, but they did provide that truly wonderful “moment”. There’s not much I feel like I can add to what’s already been said but the “Tender” sing-along, the mass pogo-ing for “Girls and Boys”, the epic “The Universal” and the mental reaction to “Song 2” will stay with me for the rest of my life.
It was at some point during “The Universal” that I truly came to terms with how magical Glastonbury is. It was at this point I decided I was DEFINLY going next year (even if I had to get a credit card to pay for it). It really is one of the best places of earth, and I wish I could pay and take all of my friends with me.
I wasn’t sure how the night could get any better… but as mentioned in the first part of this review we stumbled across a band that sound like a bunch of musical nerds had literally taken ecstasy for the first time. A dance floor of about 20 people threw every last bit of their energy they had after a truly exhausting 5 days to make sure Glastonbury went out with a bang and as the mass circle hug and dance concluded and I’m pretty sure I was definitely the happiest person on the earth.
The next day’s travel was fucking awful.
Jack’s Top 10 Tips and Things about Glastonbury Festival!
i. If you’ve never experienced constipation before, Glastonbury is the perfect place to start. I didn’t poo for about 3 days (Fri evening to Monday) and it caused me no discomfort whatsoever. Brilliant!
ii. However if you do have to use the loos, they are a bit daunting at first but you do get used to it. A good idea is to wait until a truck comes along and empties them. Take toilet roll and handwash and you’ll be fine. It’s a very small discomfort, and you’ll be having too much of an amazing time to really care about it.
iii. Nobody “owns” camping land. If a group of people have made a camp and been completely unfair taking up loads of room they don’t need, pitch your tent down. You can’t reserve land for other people. They’ve paid the same as you.
iv. Talk to everybody.
v. The cheaper and more homemade the “food outlet” looks, the cheaper and better the food probably is. I bought fish and chips from this posh van for £7 and they were fucking awful. However the little crappy looking food place in Future Fields did a filling breakfast (with proper mug for tea) for £4. The £2.50 bacon sandwich was also a lot more packed than the £4 bacon sandwich I bought from somewhere else.
vi. Need to chill out? Need to sit down and skin up away from the hustle and bustle? Want to see some great bands in a tent of about 12 people? The Green Future Fields is your haven. The Green Fields get stick for being a bit “too” hippy and shite, but the “Future” section contains some great music and is such a quiet haven compared to everywhere else. It’s also a great base for meeting up with people you’ve been split up from.
vii. If you’re going to take a flag, don’t buy the pole at Glasto. Stupidly expensive.
viii. Need to get to the front of stage to see your favourite band but have arrived too late? Simply buy a tray full of beer and pretend you have friends at the front waiting for you. Ideally latch onto someone else who’s walking through the crowd with beers so you don’t have to buy them yourself. (I did this with a foxy looking girl before Blur and it worked a treat)
ix. Hare Krisha’s do free food. Find the tent. But stick around for at least 5/10 minutes so you don’t seem like a complete knob.
x. And finally – EXPLORE.