Glastonbury, So Much To Answer For

And so, officially starting today, the greatest party on Earth finally gets to celebrate its 50th birthday.

Yes, for the first time since 2019, Covid bloody Covid having taken its toll in the intervening years, it’s Glastonbury time once again.

I say that the festival officially begins today, but anyone who has ever been to Glastonbury knows that’s not entirely true, for the gates opened on Wednesday morning, so festivities have already been underway for two days now. Anyone arriving today and hoping to find a decent place to pitch their tent is in for a bit of a shock. It’s next to the Dance Tent for you, or, perhaps marginally worse, next to the long-drops, where you will be awakened every morning by the sound of 100,00 turds being sucked out.

Sounds good, doesn’t it?

It really is. I imagine anyone who has never been is probably fed up with those that have banging on about how amazing Glastonbury it, but, and I’m not sorry to repeat it, it really is.

And I’m not there. Hel, Neil, my brother and I had planned on going, applied for tickets, didn’t manage to get them when they went on sale, nor when the resale happened, so I’ll be watching the coverage of the festival on the BBC all weekend – and say what you like about the BBC, their Glasto coverage is phenomenal, and worth the licence fee on its own in my opinion – wishing I was there whilst also trying hard not to wish rain upon those who made it.

I’ll be there in spirit though; I’ve bought a load of cider in, a box of cheap red wine; I shall bathe using nothing more than Wet Wipes for the important bits, will form an imaginary queue to use the toilet, and after the activities have finished, will venture out into my garden, sample some of the interesting looking mushrooms I found growing there, and see if I can’t find myself an imaginary acid-frazzled loon to chat to into the wee small hours.

But I digress. Since today is the first official day of the festival, I thought I’d post something from one of the years that I was there.

And what could be more appropriate than Dame Shirley Bassey opening her Sunday Legends set with her version of Pink’s Get the Party Started?

Dame Shirley Bassey – Get the Party Started (Live at Glastonbury 2007)

By the way, since I figure everyone will be watching or listening to the coverage all weekend, there will be no Friday Night Music Club this week.

More soon, though.

Published by

Jez

Contact me by email at: dubioustaste26@gmail.com Follow me on Twitter: @atastehistory Or do both. Whatever.

10 thoughts on “Glastonbury, So Much To Answer For”

  1. I went four times, the last time being the 25th anniversay waaaaaaaaaaay back in 1995. I simply cannot watch the TV coverage. I just can’t get into it, you need to be there I reckon.

    Besides, it’s years since I had a TV licence so can’t watch it anyway!

  2. “I figure everyone will be watching or listening to the coverage all weekend”

    And somehow the support the notion that it’s acceptable for people to leave their houses and congregate in fields? I’m not falling for that again.

    1. I’m really not sure what your point is here. Surely by saying “…everyone will be watching or listening to the coverage all weekend” I’m suggesting the very opposite of what you say….?

  3. I tried and failed to get a ticket in the early 1990s, then I got all snobby and felt that it was too expensive/line ups not as good as they used to be (what did I know?)/would much rather see bands in intimate venues, etc. All of which is complete BS, but to this day I’ve still not been.

    I watched a few hours’ worth last night, belatedly remembering two-thirds through an immensely energetic and enjoyable set by Confidence Man that it was 2.00am and I needed to “get up” at 6.30am this morning. I’m going to crash and burn around 3.00pm today, guaranteed.

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