Monday, 29 June 2015

The diary of a non festival goer.

"Time to immerse myself into a weekend of Glastonbury fun!!
... Through the medium of BBC coverage"


(sorry if French is incorrect. J'apprends)

Can I be as cool as Ellie Rowsell?  
And breathe her air of nonchalance?
And be able to stand casually in a dark denim crop top and jeans,
effortlessly playing the guitar like a modern day rock star?
And have that perfect balance of being pretty and lovable with a
a wild side that comes out through outbursts of screams?



With the Foo Fighters pulling out, meaning Florence and the Machine headlining, there was a space in the lineup. The surprise act? The Libertines. Here it is summed up through their performance of 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun'.
There was a time when Pete and Carl made my heart melt. A time when the sight of them together and the sound of them making music filled me with guaranteed joy (This never disappeared but kind of faded over the past few years). That time has come back. Pete's put on weight, John still looks grumpy and the bromance- that oh so endearing Pete and Carl bromance- is like as cute as the good old days. They lovingly shared a mic, they playfully knocked into each other... At the end CARL JUMPED ON TOP OF PETE WHILE HE WAS LYING ON THE STAGE. I grinned. I exclaimed "aaawww". I put my hand to my chest as my insides hyper-actively fluttered with affection. 

Laurence (my brother who was there): No, I'm not going to see Florence. She'll make a rubbish headliner. She only has three albums.
But a headliner isn't purely about their back catalog. Their set doesn't consist of fifty five songs; it's a selection of their strongest and most popular. A headline act displays their right to be a headliner through their onstage presence and how the crowd responds.
Therefore, Florence and the Machine was not a rubbish headliner.
Magical, gripping, energetic (Florence took off her blouse and ran around the stage in her bra at the end of the set) with songs to sing along to.
 Glastonbury's special to Florence. Having played on the Introducing Stage back at the mere beginning of her career, she has made her way up the bill as she's become more and more of a musical goddess. As a headliner, she fitted it well (Although the Foo Fighters would have been amazing too)




Do we not get to see Flo Morrissey?
Young, delightful Flo commence the day on The Park stage. No? Oh... ok then.
Maybe it's only right though that only those at the festival get to experience her charm. Her authentic boho style and dreamy radiance is made for Glastonbury. Her child-like appearance and mature sound makes her intriguing. Her voice trails around like whirls of fairy dust unleashed into the field. So let only the festival goers- those early risers (is 11.30 early?)- witness it. Not me.

A brief look at Kanye
Reverting back to my previous comments on what makes a deserved headliner, Kanye West is a huge personality. Whether you loathe him or love him, he gets people talking. His presence (his ego?) is enough to fill the entirety of somerset- A place that, disregarding the festival, would seem a completely absurd and impossible place for him to step into. From what I saw, his set was boring (and I didn't like the whole being lifted up in a crane so he was performing while looking down on everyone, completely out of reach, as though he was God) and he didn't seem to say a word in between songs, apart from at the end when he was like "you're witnessing the greatest rock star in the world."
The crowd were enthusiastic and full of admiration though so I guess that's all that matters. Other attendees said that his music has no place as the headlining act because it wasn't 'rock' enough but that's rubbish. Glastonbury has become a place of variety and it's the 'daddy' of all festivals. With that in mind, it's not that outrageous that Kanye West headlined.





The Sunday afternoon 'legend' act is like a good afternoon tea. Layers of their extensive musical career gathered together, enjoyed in a pleasantly social atmosphere. If the sun's shining, or the sun comes out, then I guess that's like an extra helping of strawberry jam and clotted cream to accompany the sweetness in front. Lionel Richie was like that. Perfect for a Sunday afternoon. 

I want to aimlessly explore the grounds and get lost among the randomness and creativity.
Wonder with ease past the crazy and exuberant, peruse the fun and artsy.
Stroll to the top of the hill as daylight sinks below, the lights turn on and the magic of the nightlife twinkles.
I want to discover, feel enlightened,
walk and jump and dance until my legs and feet feel satisfyingly sore then relax and doze in the hidden peaceful areas lit up by fires and people's friendliness.
But I write this while sat on my sofa.



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