I Don't Get Glastonbury

I consider myself a modern progressive sort of guy. Musically I don't want to return to the days of "How much is that doggy in the window". I like music, and I'm eclectic about it too. But I just don't get Glastonbury at all. Not one bit of it, and its continuing popularity. I can just about see the appeal 40 years ago when the whole thing started. A bunch of the more eclectic music bands take up a Somerset farmers offer to use his field as a rock venue in the dying weekend of June. Keep a bit of the 60's alive into the next decade. Perhaps re-create a spirit of Woodstock festival in the green and Gentile interior of rural England, reputedly where Jesus stood in ancient times. (so some historians reckon.) But like many things it seems to have dissipated it's original cause in the face of growing popularity (the numbers attending continue to grow.) and public recognition. I just can't fathom what is about today? Apart from bands plugging themselves, and an opportunity for 47 year old Guardian lifestyle correspondents to look hip by association, when they write about how they rubbed shoulders (and spliffs) with Pete Doherty in a puddle of mud. Or if it has some greater meaning than just a well known concert in a muddy field. It doesn't seem to cater to any particular musical taste. It seems like anyone who's famous in music and who wants to show up with their band is free to do so. I certainly don't think I'll be showing up there any time soon.

I have nothing against the festival and the people who go there. Good for them. But Glasto would only end up depressing me. I nearly got roped into going about 6 years ago, but it all fell apart for one reason or another. (a clash with a holiday I recall.) And the only thing I felt was relief. I just knew in the back of my mind, that if I had gone; it would just be four of the most depressing days of my life. Firstly it involves camping. Camping is horrible and stupid. I've only done it twice, both in the Air Cadets, and I hated everything about the whole fucking experience. From setting up a tent (It'd have been easier setting up a new nation in that Yorkshire field, from what I remember), to feeling cold and depressed. To that constant smell of rain and soil. I remember thinking that I'd missed watching "Wings of the Apache" in the comfort of my own home for this! Camping was utter crud. How anyone can call sitting in a bit of cloth, in a soggy field - fun, I'll never know. It was the antithesis of fun. Everything about it is designed to drive even someone with the emotional robustness of Mr. Spock off Star Trek, into a primeval state of rage and teary angst. It was awful. Don't talk to me about getting back to nature. Why did our ancestors spend thousands of years getting out of it in the first place?? Exactly. And to top it off, if the camps flood at Glasto, and everyone gets caked in mud and dirty water, and other waste (work it out.) That's supposed to be even better. Brilliant! That is called a humanitarian crisis, and a gateway to a medical crisis, in anywhere else in the world. Not called fun. Glastonbury is basically a displaced persons camp, with better music to bolster spirits, and populated by non conformists and trendies. It is a recreation of the sort of refugee camp that would spring up if lots of Daily Mail readers created an army, conquered most of England (except Somerset obviously) and sent all the undesirables into exile in a field.

Secondly it is commercialised these days. I'm not saying that's 100% bad (it was pretty much inevitable). But it means queues and high costs. I'd imagine 70 percent of Glasto involves queuing. 56 hours for a cold overpriced burger and a warm overpriced drink at a food tent. 230 hours to cross the camp to see an act performing. 567 hours to get in the entry and pitch a tent. 7 weeks to get out again. And several years in a tailback on the M5 all the way to Weston Supermare, getting home again. That doesn't sound too great. I know it is an inevitable consequence of popularity, but the commercialism of the event would also gnaw away at me. However much it might want to deny it, Glasto is as commercial these days as a Tesco Express in Macclesfield. I know they have all those spiritual tents these days, but Waterstones has spiritual books, so there. This would jar more at Glasto, than say somewhere like Disneyworld. I don't just hate everything commercial. I liked the latter for a start. But the latter doesn't really disguise it's links in the way Glasto would like to so I suppose that would make it more of a "betrayal" if that is the right word.

I might be sad, but I feel more at home watching a band in a pub, than I would at an open air concert. Better booze, more comfy. They have a wonderful invention called the roof, which keeps out the rain. And there isn't quite the same risk of catching dysentery from gallons of contaminated mud. Perfect.