I Got A Feeling In My Knees

I’d like to say the Glastonbury dust has settled. But there was no dust. Only mud. Terrible, terrible mud.

Since it careered to its inexorably horrific end, with people either running for the hills or crying in car parks, I’ve been trying to decide whether it was any good or not. I’ve decided it wasn’t. It could have been, but it wasn’t.

The music on offer was mostly indifferent and uninspiring. Bjork was Bjork, and you’d expect nothing less. Modest Mouse had a lot of Marr going on. Pendulum sounded mighty for a while. Arcade Fire started looking a bit by the numbers. Long Blondes were good, Klaxons were okay, CSS were okay, Brakes were good. And that was about that. I didn’t see a lot, admittedly, because it was easier to sit down and weep, but that was nonetheless about that.

Now, here I think I need to say I’m not sure I went to the same festival as a lot of other people. Turns that I thought were rubbish, other people thought were ‘amazing’ or ‘refreshing’ or in the case of one lady who should know better, both. So, please bear that in mind as I momentarily spit some bile.

The bill was rubbish. Everything on the Pyramid Stage, with the exception of DSB and one or two doughty others, was pandering to the masses. The thought of the last three acts on Friday night, one after the other, going on and on and on, made my blood turn cold. And worse, the place was packed with people lapping it up, who probably didn’t move from the one field for the rest of the weekend, and probably didn’t know why. I truly got the impression that a lot of people were there because they thought they should like music. There was nothing new, nothing interesting. And it went from there really.

The Other Stage had some mildly better stuff, but too often went for the easy option as well. The Jazz World Stage should probably be called the Jazz Wank Stage from now on – it seemed to coax the worst out of those who stepped out onto it. Now that they call the New Bands Tent the John Peel Tent, does that mean they don’t have to put any new bands on? The Dance Stages were pretty much the most interesting, but they were interspersed with some truly terrible acts. Mika. Seriously.

Now, with Glastonbury, the rubbish bill shouldn’t matter – because there’s plenty more to see and do. Okay. But it’s getting the same, every year. The layout’s the same. The areas are the same. Any new areas are the same as the old areas. The themes are the same. You turn up after your first couple, and it’s all very comfortable and familiar. There might be a couple of new ideas, but it gets swallowed up in the maelstrom of regularity. Comfortable and familiar. This is not a good thing.

So, maybe after a bit of regular attendance, the magic’s gone. My first Glastonbury, not long ago, was pretty amazing. It was something new. This time, it was like watching a repeat of a 70s sitcom. Was great, is okay, but you know exactly what’s coming next. Nothing new, nothing interesting, nothing special.

All that being said, it could have been good – had the sun been out and the mud not appeared, I don’t think the mediocrity would have mattered. But that didn’t happen. And of course, the people that were at the other festival to me had an amazingly refreshing time anyway. So it’s probably just me. No stiff upper lip, that one.

One true highlight to mention though – Chas & Dave on Friday afternoon. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been, but the sun came out, the hay started flying, everyone was happy, and it was good. But I’m not about to post some Chas & Dave now, am I.

Chas & Dave – Turn That Noise Down

Chas & Dave – Give It Some Stick, Mick


Tiny Dancer