Glasto to be a washout this year. I've never been the pop festival type. Calling it a pop festival is your first clue. The most outside rock I've ever done is the Fleadh. One year bright sunshine, the next year knee-deep in beery mud in a humid tent watching a dour John Martyn (a gig I forgot to list).
Uncomfortable feelings, the fear of trenchfoot, and here we are in the middle of London. I left halfway through headliner Neil Young as I was so cold. My Gap kagoul let in the water. What sort of kagoul is that? At least a day at the Milton Keyenes Bowl remained warm and sunny.
So no trips to Glastonbury for me, no matter who's on. I have visited the town, which is all brightly painted veggie cafes and crystal shops (even now) and you really wouldn't want to live there. My borther went to the festival once and someone shat on the side of their tent. That was thoughtful. The very idea of using one of those loos that turn into giant dungheaps horrifies me. Perhaps the person who shat on the tent felt more comfortable doing it there than in the oversubscribed latrine. Who can blame them?
No, if I ever was to go to one the 400,000 festivals that now litter the land, it's the local Hilton for me nor I'm not going. Unless I could go backstage and take full advantage of the hospitality that is.
So good luck at the mudbath this weekend, Glasto-goers. Rather you than me.
3 comments:
This morning, I quite fancied the thought of going to see The Feeling at that Ben & Jerry's gig in Clapham later in the month - metropolitan, just the one day - but then I thought crowds, jostle, only a good view if you are at hte front - I changed my mind and vowed to go and see them when they next play indoors.
I had Glasto tix once, but fortunately sold them, as it was the worst year for weather ever, thank god. And apparently, it's a Glasto tradition to push hapless camper into the pit of slurry from the latrines at the end of the festival. That's nice, isn't it?
Is it going to rain at the weekend? Poo! I'm going to see The Feeling on Sunday.....outdoors.
Ah yes, I remember that Fleadh. Was that the one where we saw Kirsty MacColl, too, just a few months before her sad end? From memory, we also saw Billy Bragg, Bert Jansch, Suzanne Vega and a reformed Undertones minus Feargal Sharkey - a few more for your list there, if you haven't got them already.
After you left, I remember standing shivering at the top of the hill watching Neil Young play 'Like a hurricane' (one of my favourite songs, so it was just about worth the hardship). What with the mud and the cold and the darkness and the flashes of light and the howls of angry feedback coming from the stage, I felt rather like a weary soldier surveying the last moments of a desperate battle...
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