annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Thank you for the music

Well, I'm in the midst of the usual maelstrom of intense emotional excess, which I am surviving by distraction, which precludes much in the way of writing, so here's the music I caught at Glasto.

Friday was book-making workshops, collapse, find myself on gate duty, 8 till midnight, back to bed. Lots of music around, but not that close.

On Saturday afternoon, as we were packing up the book stuff, a sudden gust of westerly wind brought this (by the magic of t'internet I can bring you the very performances I saw - how cool is that? To get the best out of this experience I suggest you roll a big fat spliff or have a generous slug of warm, cheap vodka, or not, whatever, just a thought) - anyway, there he was, Elvis fucking Costello, giving it plenty, two fields away:

I had arrived at my festival dilemma - almost all the acts I wanted to see were now on at the same time, all over the place. So I walked down through the Pyramid field, listening to Elvis, stopping at the bottom for 'Shipbuilding', and then on and on for fucking miles - on my own as no one else was ready when I wanted to go, which was at once, but it felt good just pleasing myself. To the Other stage for Alabama Shakes, who were just starting, goosebump-inducingly powerful. This was about the third one in

and it finished me off. All the stuff I'd been keeping a grip on just burst out and I fled, amazingly straight into a Samaritans place, in the shade of a tree, with comfy chairs and some poor bloke who didn't quite get that I was going to sit in the shade for the shortest possible time and use all my determination to steady myself for the long walk back uphill to the Acoustic stage for the Proclaimers. I'd kept dithering about them or Alabama Shakes, too cross about having to choose to ever decide, but after the drama of that Hold On, I knew I couldn't miss jumping up and down in a rowdy crowd, shouting along to this. And I didn't, I was deep in the thick of it, joyous and marvellous and quite inexplicable

Then back to camp to meet the kids for the Stones. We were all excited - there was a real buzz about, people going early to get a good view, loads of Stones T shirts being worn, most of them sarky but it was still all about the Stones.

And what can you say, they're the Stones, maybe not the greatest rock and roll band in the world, but bloody up there, still banging out a stonking set, despite Jagger's fading voice. I wanted to play you 'It's only rock'n'roll' but this is the only video on there, all of the last hour. By this time, me and YD were queuing for a piss, having reached desperation, but everyone there was still dancing and singing along. I danced all the way through - if bloody old Jagger can do it, flat out strutting his stuff, then I'm gonna at least shuffle about a bit. And how can you not dance - you just need the opening bars - magic. I'd recommend the last bit of this, from 55mins

On Sunday I saw The Beat in a small side tent and danced harder, faster, for much less time. Man, I love the Beat:

I walked back from my dinner up through Mumford and Sons but they were pretty drony after an upbeat opening and not worth a clip.

I can't believe that was all I saw, but it was. And it was pretty good.

Grateful for: the whole Glasto thing; TinyM having seemingly taken over washing-up duties at my place; having an ex-diarylander (waves at V) come and stay while I was gone to look after the blasted Bobcat; being in control of my feelings rather than the other way round; having found the energy to blog - yay, go me.

Laters, sleep well xxx

12:11 a.m. - 06.07.13


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