Glastonbury Festival 2008
By: Gareth Meade
So Glastonbury is done and dusted for another year, but where are we now in hindsight? You'll already know that Jay-Z triumphed over adversity. You'll already know the sun came out to play a lot more than the rain. And you'll definitely already know that those who risked watching Amy Winehouse got a literal and metaphorical punch in the face. But what of the minutiae of the event that boasts the moniker "the largest performing arts and music festival in the world"?
I was a Glastonbury virgin. As the Saturday night descended and I stumbled jubilantly from an incredible Jay-Z performance into the aptly named Trash City, I remember thinking that this was the best time I'd ever had. It's a cliché, but where else can you get such a crescendo of unbelievable acts, from Seasick Steve to Hot Chip and The Raconteurs, all in one afternoon?
Being asked what my highlight was makes me realize just how many there were: Santogold dedicating her song "Unstoppable" to a crowd refusing to miss any of the eclectic set, despite the first and only real rain of the festival; sartorial Scots Franz Ferdinand's "secret" show, as their killer new synth-driven material mixed with all the gems of their back catalogue; and Caribou playing their hearts out despite a criminally small crowd, convincing one and all that every band needs two drummers. There was also battle-scarred bluesman Seasick Steve playing a three-stringed guitar, while swilling bourbon and describing his journey through life. He didn't know how he'd made it to the pyramid stage, but we were all ridiculously happy he was there.
And then there was an astonishingly well-dressed legend, Leonard Cohen, taking his hat off to the crowd to thank them for hanging on his every poetic word. He was practically drowned out by the fans during the best songs of his set: "Suzanne", "So Long, Marianne" and, of course, "Hallelujah". It was a weekend that blew away any of the cobwebs hanging around the alleged controversy about the weather and line-up.
I could go on to list many more amazing stage-toppers, but if I were held at gunpoint, I would possibly have to single out the events of the Saturday night as an example of the inimitability of the festival. Immediately after Jay-Z's satire-laced extravaganza, we followed the throngs of people to Trash City, where we found ourselves in the midst of a very literal staging of "party crashing": The scene was set with half of an airplane backing onto a party tent. Entrance into the fantastic fuselage party consisted of liberally applying glitter to one's face, followed by a couple of air hostesses swinging us around by the arms screaming "Turbulence! Turbulence!" Disoriented, blinded by the light ahead and wanting more, we stepped through into a dark room. There ensued an inexplicable mixture of music and lighting, controlled by the movements of the inhabitants of the tent. I'd never seen anything like it, but it felt perfectly normal amongst the never-ending tents, stages and masses of people.
Glastonbury is a festival that has history bordering on the legendary. Having been, I can now see why. Hopefully next time, founders Michael and Emily Eavis won't be held ransom by the English press and we can get on with thanking them for organizing this mammoth event.
