Glastonbury 2004! Love, Life Rock'n'roll...and mud.
In case you didn’t hear; this years Glastonbury was an almighty test of mans ability to ignore all manner of evil horrors and wet assed weather in order to enjoy some of the finest music one has ever witnessed. Yes it did piss down. So much so, this writer was almost going to give up and go home on Sunday morning upon waking to the plop...Pllop...PLOP...Swssh...Ahh Bo***cks!! Of a submerged sleeping bag, head, person and tent. With not a stitch to wear I bravely soldiered on; but hang on a minute; let’s start from the beginning shall we.
Upon arrival on Thursday afternoon it was already mucky as a pornstars’ pecker, which I was assured is only natural on the well trodden decent into the valley of Worthy Farm. Friday would have fooled us into thinking we were on for a crackin’ weekend though, for it was a scorcher! Jazz World Stage, Friday afternoon - pear cider, Stetson hats, sunglasses, forty f**kin’ million flags blowing in the blue sky and a whole music festival ahead of us, what I ask you could be better than this!?
Kicking off proceedings in typically sexy fashion Polly Jean Harvey struts onto the main stage Friday evening wearing bright orange stilettos and the shortest Spice Girls dress you ever saw. The sky is glowing a burnt orange around the edges and Polly is on fire. The first thing you notice about the Pyramid Stage is the quality of the PA. It’s ace. Really really ace! Loud enough to blow spots of a greedy crisp eating teenager at a hundred yards and as clear as crystal, you have to hand it to Eavis on this one. Not racing, but caressing her way through an even mix of ‘Uh Huh Her’, ‘Stories From The City...’ and ‘Dry’ Polly has people around me slapping their foreheads in amazement. “Shit...she totally rocks man...and she’s a frickin’ minx too!” notes my now bleary eyed comrade. She does. And she is. Today Polly is a cracker, and has this reporter wondering if everything from here on is set to be a sorry disappointment in comparison. Other notables of the first afternoon proper included; Elbow (stunning set from Guy Garvey and co.) NY Gang Of Four-like The Rapture (sound ten times better live than on record by the way), The Bees (awesome set from Isle Of Wight six piece), The Concretes, The Walkmen (New Bands Tent) and Chicks On Speed frazzling away in the Dance tent.
Pyramid Stage, Friday evening: A somewhat under anticipated Kings of Leon failed to win over the Oasis hungry crowd, and could have been amazing on a smaller stage. Molly’s Chambers goes down well, but overall, an uninspired audience will have come away thinking not a great deal about the Kings. A shame really, as under different circumstances they could have really shone. Next up it’s Oasis. Oasis! Oasis! Eh...you what? What is that blurry coat all about then? Oasis? More like Noasis. Having been an impassioned Oasis fan since the word fook, I erupted with pleasure as the first chords of ‘Rock’n’Roll Star’ shimmered out of the huge speakers and across our heads. That I’m afraid was as excited as I got. For Oasis were rubbish. I’m sorry Noel, Liam; but what is the point of headlining Glastonbury for the first time in ten years if at the end of the day, you just can’t be arsed. Poor show fella’s. Although in all fairness, it could have been something to do with the fact that the Oasis sound men appeared to be off smoking incense through wet flip flops, because for one thing, it was near impossible to hear Noel’s guitar. Solo’s drifted aimlessly into the night, as Liam stood back from the crowd looking pretty bored. It’s been a great ride with the Gallagher brothers this last ten or so years, but maybe time is truly up for the troublesome twosome.
Not too dejected we head off into the night in search of some late night Glasto entertainment. After a packed Glade proved too much for our jittery brains we stumble upon the BBC stage! Wow!! Fabio & Grooverider stand before us aloft a towering bonfire; dropping some of the fattest (is that spelt Phat?) drum and bass heavy beats of the entire evening. We party until the wee hours before alighting homewards and cracking on with the obligatory camp fire. Satisfied, tired. Lets have it!
|
About Petrol Records
About Petrol Records
