Week 25
Glastonbury - Friday - Part I
“If this is a rom-com, you’re gonna die too!”
Friday is when Glastonbury really begins. All the stages open, and the big acts show their faces. There were of course, no bigger faces than the ones that were headlining the Pyramid Stage that night. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Headliners with big faces are just a small part of a big event, and every face, big and small, plays its part in making Glastonbury what it is.
Metronomy, one of a number of bands playing Glastonbury who have already featured in Gigaweek, were the first that Sandro and I saw again. The Pyramid in the rain at midday is a slightly different prospect to Clwb Ifor Bach at night, and I’d say Metronomy are more suited to the latter, which they’d no doubt prove at their second show on Sunday in the Dance Village, where their chest-lights could be used to greater effect.
Next were Two Door Cinema Club, who we’d seen on The Other Stage last year, and having since listened to their very good debut album, I expected them to be even better this year. Salazar, Flapjack and I wanted to see Miles Kane at the John Peel Tent so sadly we missed the last few songs from Two Door, but making difficult decisions is a big part of Glastonbury. There are usually about four or five places you’d like to be at any one time, which is why it’s such a great festival, but it’s no place for the indecisive. Or is it?
As we were leaving we heard ginger singer Alex Trimble asking the crowd to participate in a bit of piggybacking and glancing over at Flapjack who was eager to climb aboard, I knew that leaving was the right decision.
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After being impressed by Mr Kane at Camden Crawl a couple of months ago, Sal and I were excited to see him again. Flapjack however, must be sick of the sight of him. The resemblance between the two was startling, and even as I looked from the stage to the face on my left I wondered why I’d never seen them in the same room together.
Citizen Flapjack played a great set once again. Sandro, The Wiggler, Cousin Bish, and P. Mushy all turned up once Two Door had finished and got to see a finale that featured ‘Come Closer’, which saw us obey by gathering around Flapjack and pawing at his face.
The boys stuck around for Cage The Elephant, but the girls, Sal and I, headed to The Other Stage to see The Wombats, much to the disapproval of Sandro, who described them as “Toilet”. The Vaccines were on stage before them, and we heard the last thirty seconds of their set, three songs worth, before parting with a whopping £6.50 for a burger.
That price is average among the diverse food stalls of Glastonbury, which is why our tent was packed with breakfast bars, beans, rice, Pot Noodles and caviar. With the rain still pouring, and having wisely brought only T-Shirts and shorts with me, I was understandably delighted when a familiar voice called out the words I was hoping to hear. “I love you! You have a very nice face!” no, not that voice, the one that said “Ponchos! Get your ponchos! Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head!”
It was none other than the man who’d recited a poem for our pleasure the previous day at the Stone Circle. He was selling ponchos like hotcakes for three quid a pop or two for a fiver, but as soon as I declared my interest a rival entrepreneur, Stuart Baggs ‘The Brand’, offered me one for two quid instead, much to the irritation of the poet. I didn’t approve of such salesmanship, so I scorned the stooge and traded with our old friend who, I was impressed to discover, recognised me. “Where’s your mate with the big nose?” he said, “I just realised the bugger gave me a shoddy Home Bargains lighter!”
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T-Reez was also keen to watch The Wombats, who she said were the third biggest act in Germany behind Rammstein and Die Scheiße Frites. In the UK the Liverpudlians are considered to be about as cool and as cutting edge as U2, but although some of their lyrics are unintentionally amusing they’ve got some enjoyable tunes, the undoubted highlight being ‘Let’s Dance to Joy Division’, which closed the set.
There aren’t many respectable songs about rom-coms, and Sal’s version of the lyrics to ‘Kill The Director’ were of course superior to those sang passionately by lead singer Matthew Murphy, but even so we couldn’t resist singing “This is no Bridget Jones!” for the rest of their performance. Gigaweek, of course, is no rom-com, and it most certainly isn’t Bridget Jones, although she and Sandro wear similar underwear.
The man with the big briefs then joined us to see Bright Eyes, whose maestro Conor Oberst appeared on stage in a cape, which was probably more sensible that the white suit Murphy had worn. Although I’m unfamiliar with most of their music, Conor and the rest of the band were an impressive live presence, keeping me and the rest of the soaking masses entertained and attentive.
Admittedly we did mix their music with a contest to see who could kick highest, using the muddy marks on our ponchos to measure, but who wouldn’t? We knew the risks involved in such a dangerous sport of course, and when a powerfully welly from Sal damaged all of my internal organs, there were few complaints. I was too winded to talk, and none of the others cared.
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Word had spread throughout the day that tonight’s ‘Special Guests’ at the Park Stage would be none other than Radiohead. Radiohead. I could scarcely believe it. What would Kesha say? The two-time headliners created a lot of excitement, and were a band well worth making the long haul in the pouring rain to the Park Stage, and we joined thousands of others in doing so.
Playing the slot before them were Big Audio Dynamite, who include The Clash’s Bridget Jones, Mick, who had headlined the Pyramid Stage last year with Gorillaz. We only caught their last couple of songs, but Cousin Bish had been there for the duration and was in the centre of the crowd out-dancing Bez of Happy Mondays fame, who he was standing next to.
Even at that point, the crowd was huge, stretching right up the hill to the Glastonbury sign and beyond. Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood had played as special guests last year, and according to many of those who were lucky enough to witness them, it was one of the highlights of the year. There were no surprises when Thom took to the mic and announced his band’s name. The reception that greeted them this time was just incredible, but surprisingly the show itself was a bit of a let down.
The entire set comprised of songs from their two most recent albums, save for the encore. Neither are bad albums by any stretch, but neither are Ok Computer or The Bends. The dwindling audience suggested that plenty of others felt similarly, and as the rain continued to fall, we were left feeling low and wet (or high and dry?).
In other circumstances we’d have stayed ‘til the end, and I later regretted leaving early, especially when P. Mushy and Flapjack revealed that they’d rewarded the diehards with an encore of ‘Street Spirit (Fade Out)’, which would definitely have cheered me up. There were other things on my mind though. I’d long before chosen to resist Primal Scream for the promise of the spectacular on the Pyramid, but I had a much bigger problem to consider: Candy.
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