12 years ago
Wednesday, 22 July 2009
Wednesday, 1 July 2009
Read Oli's stuff!!!!
Guys if you are just opening the stuff and seeing loads of bits I have put up about Glasto and thinking 'No!!!!!I can't face all that - I read enough of Holliday's sycophantic musical nonsense when I lived in Tamworth!' can I just ask that you at least read my son's piece as I am rather proud of what he has done!!!
The overview bit I did mught interest you Poge if you do fancy going next year and the top ten acts are worth reading. Possibly. A bit.
Not sure if even I can recommend ny Brucie haliography bit though because i do love him. And it shows!!!!
The overview bit I did mught interest you Poge if you do fancy going next year and the top ten acts are worth reading. Possibly. A bit.
Not sure if even I can recommend ny Brucie haliography bit though because i do love him. And it shows!!!!
Glasto - my adjective-laden Springsteen review
You may want to attempt reading this - but you may need a strong stomach if you don't like New Jersey's finest. As printed in tomorrow's Bath Chronicle et al...
When you are a rock star as big as Bruce Springsteen you only ever usually play to the converted. Every time Springsteen normally takes to the stage on one of his many epic tours he can be confident that everyone there has paid large sums of money because they want to watch, listen and sing along with The Boss. They are on his side – they are his people.
But, as it is for everyone else, Glastonbury is oh so different.
As all the tickets were sold before Springsteen was even confirmed on the bill, he must have known he was facing something very rare for him – the musical equivalent of a sporting ‘away match’ where not everyone was necessarily a worshipper at the altar of Bruce.
Could he cope? Could he entertain and delight a crowd who, for the most part, wouldn’t even know any of his material?
Could he heck.
Springsteen was simply magnificent on that balmy Saturday evening and for the 160 minutes he dominated the Pyramid stage, he gave a performance of passion, exuberance, exhilaration and musical majesty. I am certain he will have satisfied all his true fans (and I speak as someone who has been a devotee for 30 years) and, I imagine, he will have converted many more ‘newbies’ in both the park and in TV land with a staggeringly energetic show that belied the singer’s 59 years.
One of the things that really impressed me was that he also produced a totally uncompromising set. He could have easily relied on better known tracks such as Born In The USA and Hungry Heart to help him through but Springsteen ignored them and gave a fully rounded performance which included not only some of his traditional toe-tappers but a few of the more delicate, challenging and less well known moments from his amazing repertoire. A repertoire remember, that spans nearly 40 years and has yielded 120 million album sales worldwide.
As an example of his approach, on his brilliant new studio album Working On A Dream there are many wonderful, poppy singalongs (This Life, Kingdom of Days, Surprise, Surprise) but Bruce ditched them all and instead played an 11-minute version of the more complex and less immediate Outlaw Pete from that same album. It took guts in a way – but Springsteen has always had those.
So, acknowledged classics like Thunder Road, The River and a delightfully elongated Dancing In The Dark sat alongside lesser known beauties such as Waiting On The Sun and The Ghost Of Tom Joad, and there was even a stunning unreleased track, Hard Times, written in the mid-19th century no less which resonated about the economic situation that we live in in a typically Springsteen-esque socially aware way.
With Bruce it is not just about the songs however. It is about the whole performance and once again he showed what an amazing front man he is. Out of the words of some, his powerful exhorting of the crowd to mirror his musical passion might have sounded cheesy, but with Springsteen you sincerely believe he sincerely believes it. The man does not have a cynical bone in his body and the way he struts across the stage with a smile on his face and a burning spirit in his soul, shows that this is a man at the very top of his game.
OK, I’m sure not everybody ‘got it’ and that’s fine. But for those who did, I’m sure they came away knowing, as I did, that we had been in the presence of a truly great and inspirational man who is, was and always will be the embodiment of the very best that rock and roll has to offer.
Put simply, Glastonbury saw why many of us believe that Bruce Springsteen is the greatest living American.
The Boss bossed it.
When you are a rock star as big as Bruce Springsteen you only ever usually play to the converted. Every time Springsteen normally takes to the stage on one of his many epic tours he can be confident that everyone there has paid large sums of money because they want to watch, listen and sing along with The Boss. They are on his side – they are his people.
But, as it is for everyone else, Glastonbury is oh so different.
As all the tickets were sold before Springsteen was even confirmed on the bill, he must have known he was facing something very rare for him – the musical equivalent of a sporting ‘away match’ where not everyone was necessarily a worshipper at the altar of Bruce.
Could he cope? Could he entertain and delight a crowd who, for the most part, wouldn’t even know any of his material?
Could he heck.
Springsteen was simply magnificent on that balmy Saturday evening and for the 160 minutes he dominated the Pyramid stage, he gave a performance of passion, exuberance, exhilaration and musical majesty. I am certain he will have satisfied all his true fans (and I speak as someone who has been a devotee for 30 years) and, I imagine, he will have converted many more ‘newbies’ in both the park and in TV land with a staggeringly energetic show that belied the singer’s 59 years.
One of the things that really impressed me was that he also produced a totally uncompromising set. He could have easily relied on better known tracks such as Born In The USA and Hungry Heart to help him through but Springsteen ignored them and gave a fully rounded performance which included not only some of his traditional toe-tappers but a few of the more delicate, challenging and less well known moments from his amazing repertoire. A repertoire remember, that spans nearly 40 years and has yielded 120 million album sales worldwide.
As an example of his approach, on his brilliant new studio album Working On A Dream there are many wonderful, poppy singalongs (This Life, Kingdom of Days, Surprise, Surprise) but Bruce ditched them all and instead played an 11-minute version of the more complex and less immediate Outlaw Pete from that same album. It took guts in a way – but Springsteen has always had those.
So, acknowledged classics like Thunder Road, The River and a delightfully elongated Dancing In The Dark sat alongside lesser known beauties such as Waiting On The Sun and The Ghost Of Tom Joad, and there was even a stunning unreleased track, Hard Times, written in the mid-19th century no less which resonated about the economic situation that we live in in a typically Springsteen-esque socially aware way.
With Bruce it is not just about the songs however. It is about the whole performance and once again he showed what an amazing front man he is. Out of the words of some, his powerful exhorting of the crowd to mirror his musical passion might have sounded cheesy, but with Springsteen you sincerely believe he sincerely believes it. The man does not have a cynical bone in his body and the way he struts across the stage with a smile on his face and a burning spirit in his soul, shows that this is a man at the very top of his game.
OK, I’m sure not everybody ‘got it’ and that’s fine. But for those who did, I’m sure they came away knowing, as I did, that we had been in the presence of a truly great and inspirational man who is, was and always will be the embodiment of the very best that rock and roll has to offer.
Put simply, Glastonbury saw why many of us believe that Bruce Springsteen is the greatest living American.
The Boss bossed it.
Glasto - my top ten favourite acts
Here is the top ten bands I saw over the weekend (as printed in tomorrow's Bath Chronicle...)
Glastonbury is many things to many people but it is, and always must be, about the music first and foremost. Here, then, is my opinion of the top 10 acts that really got my wellies wobbling . . .
1 Bruce Springsteen. I know this is a bit obvious, but he really was magnificent. For my full review of a peerless set from a peerless performer see elsewhere.
2. The Gaslight Anthem. This is a band everyone should get into – and probably now will. They hail from Springsteen’s New Jersey home and combine his gutsy rock passion with a Clash-style musical approach to make for a brilliant cocktail. They were sensational – even more so when Springsteen unexpectedly turned up on stage for their greatest song, The 59 Sound. Check them out. Now.
3. Hugh Cornwell. A truly stunning show of great solo and Strangler material from Box’s finest. The old fella went down an absolute storm with a far rockier set than the ‘acoustic stage’ position suggested. Top class.
4. Glasvegas. I love this band and they really delivered their dark, feedback-dominated sound in style to the delight of their fans. Truly the next headlining big stadium act. You read it here first.
5. Echo And The Bunnymen. Faced with Blur or The Prodigy on the two main stages as Sunday night headliners, I instead chose to go to the John Peel tent to see indie heroes Echo And The Bunnymen – and I definitely made the right choice. They were brilliant, doing the whole of their Ocean Rain album from start to finish and then a clutch of singles. The Cutter was possibly THE song of the weekend for me. Amazing.
6. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah’s. A real discovery for me. I had only heard a couple of their tracks but decided to check them out – and they were pure quality. I don’t listen to nearly enough bands with female-singers but I will make an exception here. A pleasant surprise.
7. The Specials. As good as you could hope for despite front man Terry Hall still looking like the most miserable man in music. I thought Ghost Town would be the song we would all remember but even that was eclipsed by A Message To You Rudi and Do Nothing which were both wonderful.
8. Bloc Party. A punchy, original band who produced a great, uplifting set late on Friday night.
9.F****d Up. My son Oli, recommended these and they were great fun. Part of the semi-screamo enclave but with a sense of humour most of them don’t possess and a superb front man.
10. Friendly Fires. One of the joys of a festival is taking time out to see a band you have vaguely heard about but wouldn’t normally watch. This was such a case – and I am glad I made the effort. Funky, modern pop with attitude.
11 Spinal Tap. I know this is a top 10 but anyone who knows anything about Spinal Tap would know you are ALLOWED to go up to 11 with them. OK, they weren’t that great but I am just pleased to have seen Nigel, David, Derek and a nameless drummer (!) in the flesh as well having the chance to sing along about pink torpedoes.
Sam Holliday
Glastonbury is many things to many people but it is, and always must be, about the music first and foremost. Here, then, is my opinion of the top 10 acts that really got my wellies wobbling . . .
1 Bruce Springsteen. I know this is a bit obvious, but he really was magnificent. For my full review of a peerless set from a peerless performer see elsewhere.
2. The Gaslight Anthem. This is a band everyone should get into – and probably now will. They hail from Springsteen’s New Jersey home and combine his gutsy rock passion with a Clash-style musical approach to make for a brilliant cocktail. They were sensational – even more so when Springsteen unexpectedly turned up on stage for their greatest song, The 59 Sound. Check them out. Now.
3. Hugh Cornwell. A truly stunning show of great solo and Strangler material from Box’s finest. The old fella went down an absolute storm with a far rockier set than the ‘acoustic stage’ position suggested. Top class.
4. Glasvegas. I love this band and they really delivered their dark, feedback-dominated sound in style to the delight of their fans. Truly the next headlining big stadium act. You read it here first.
5. Echo And The Bunnymen. Faced with Blur or The Prodigy on the two main stages as Sunday night headliners, I instead chose to go to the John Peel tent to see indie heroes Echo And The Bunnymen – and I definitely made the right choice. They were brilliant, doing the whole of their Ocean Rain album from start to finish and then a clutch of singles. The Cutter was possibly THE song of the weekend for me. Amazing.
6. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah’s. A real discovery for me. I had only heard a couple of their tracks but decided to check them out – and they were pure quality. I don’t listen to nearly enough bands with female-singers but I will make an exception here. A pleasant surprise.
7. The Specials. As good as you could hope for despite front man Terry Hall still looking like the most miserable man in music. I thought Ghost Town would be the song we would all remember but even that was eclipsed by A Message To You Rudi and Do Nothing which were both wonderful.
8. Bloc Party. A punchy, original band who produced a great, uplifting set late on Friday night.
9.F****d Up. My son Oli, recommended these and they were great fun. Part of the semi-screamo enclave but with a sense of humour most of them don’t possess and a superb front man.
10. Friendly Fires. One of the joys of a festival is taking time out to see a band you have vaguely heard about but wouldn’t normally watch. This was such a case – and I am glad I made the effort. Funky, modern pop with attitude.
11 Spinal Tap. I know this is a top 10 but anyone who knows anything about Spinal Tap would know you are ALLOWED to go up to 11 with them. OK, they weren’t that great but I am just pleased to have seen Nigel, David, Derek and a nameless drummer (!) in the flesh as well having the chance to sing along about pink torpedoes.
Sam Holliday
Glasto - my son's review (Please read!!!)
OK, a bit of parental pride here (we don't do it often do we though) so please indulge me.
My son Oli is 15 and he was my 'plus one' at Glasto and we had a great time together - and apart (it is THAT safe).
We share a lot of the same tastes - we both love Glasvegas, Gaslight Anthem, The Clash, The Ramones et al - but he is far more hardcore than I am (as he should be). So while I was dancing in the dark with Brucie baby he was off watching a band called The King Blues and while I was loving the Bunnymen (oh Mas, they were amazing) he was bopping to the Prodigy.
Anyway...I told him I wanted him to do a write-up and I know I am amazingly biased but I think he has done a top job for a 15 year old who until recently didn’t even like English much (I am trying to persuade him to do it for A Level) and has no journalistic interest at all.
I think he has written this really well for one so young – and I haven’t edited it at all. At times bizarrely he reminds me of the way I would write - although I never said these things nearly as well at 15 - which is ironic because he makes a point of not reading anything I write! Have a read if you have a mo.
Glasto through the eyes of a 15-year-old first-timer
A few months ago, Glastonbury felt very much like a bad idea.
I had listened to the conventional stereotypes of drugged-up hippies with abysmal and obscure peace-loving music alongside humid temperatures and the ever potent smell of faeces. The idea from my point of view was detestable – up until the point when they released a line-up including the legendary band that is Spinal Tap.
So, off I set to ‘smell the glove’ of Spinal Tap and to try and avoid as many spaced-out hippies as possible, but the first thing I learned from Glastonbury was that spaced out hippies weren’t that bad!
It quickly became apparent that this festival was very much like a small city – without any of the problems. This meant that everyone was chilled out and it didn’t matter if you were a hippie or a human being because Glasto’s community was a very friendly place. It was so friendly in fact that I only met one angry drunk and he was a Nottingham Forest fan, so I suppose the anger was somewhat justified.
The second thing that really stands out at the Glastonbury is the amount of stewardship and security – it’s highly visible and everyone is very helpful, aiding people getting in and parking, and providing great support around the site to give guidance and directions.
So after a very small amount of exploration, I headed for the John Peel Stage for the first band of my weekend F***** Up. Surprisingly, this anarcho-punk group – that seemed very out of place at Glasto – delivered one of my favourite performances of the weekend, which included the very fat and very topless lead front man ‘Father Damien’ running from the stage, through the crowd to the sound-deck at the other side of the tent while still singing through the mic.
It was a very surreal start.
After this I saw standout performances from the Horrors, N.E.R.D, The Dead Weathers and The Specials. Friday ended with Bloc Party, who were outstanding and very well received.
After a great Friday, anticipation for Saturday was high. Not only would I be seeing the ‘Tap’, there were numerous other acts that emphasised the great and diverse line-up this year. First came Spinal Tap who performed a funny and bizarre show with highlights including midgets dressed as druids dancing round an abysmally-made inflatable Stonehenge. Also The Gaslight Anthem delivered an extraordinary set with a guest appearance from Pyramid headliner Bruce Springsteen midway through set.
The high calibre performances carried on through the day with Dizzee Rascal owning the Pyramid and bands such as Kasabian, Pendulum and The King Blues delivering very exciting sets.
Sunday was a day for exploration as the thought of seeing either Status Quo or Tony Christie was – at the least – vomit-inducing. This is when I found the Trash City, Arcadia and Shangri-La venues. These very original spots in Glastonbury seemed to be in a different world to the rest of the festival with their venues and even their burger bars made to a different artistic style set in the future or the past, or both. Most were just brilliantly weird and original.
I finished the weekend with a solid set from Glasvegas and a crazy performance from The Prodigy whose performance left fans with mud on their shoes, sweat on their bodies and unknown liquids involuntarily splashed across their face.
Overall? Yes, there was often a waft of faeces when you passed any toilets in a 10 metre radius, yes there were a lot of drugged-up hippies, but I really didn’t care. It felt like you were in a new city but one with a big welcoming community.
The performances in their various types were outstanding, it was fun and well organised and I don’t even need to consider going again – because I am already sure that I will.
And, I will persuade anyone who hasn’t tried it to go next year too.
My son Oli is 15 and he was my 'plus one' at Glasto and we had a great time together - and apart (it is THAT safe).
We share a lot of the same tastes - we both love Glasvegas, Gaslight Anthem, The Clash, The Ramones et al - but he is far more hardcore than I am (as he should be). So while I was dancing in the dark with Brucie baby he was off watching a band called The King Blues and while I was loving the Bunnymen (oh Mas, they were amazing) he was bopping to the Prodigy.
Anyway...I told him I wanted him to do a write-up and I know I am amazingly biased but I think he has done a top job for a 15 year old who until recently didn’t even like English much (I am trying to persuade him to do it for A Level) and has no journalistic interest at all.
I think he has written this really well for one so young – and I haven’t edited it at all. At times bizarrely he reminds me of the way I would write - although I never said these things nearly as well at 15 - which is ironic because he makes a point of not reading anything I write! Have a read if you have a mo.
Glasto through the eyes of a 15-year-old first-timer
A few months ago, Glastonbury felt very much like a bad idea.
I had listened to the conventional stereotypes of drugged-up hippies with abysmal and obscure peace-loving music alongside humid temperatures and the ever potent smell of faeces. The idea from my point of view was detestable – up until the point when they released a line-up including the legendary band that is Spinal Tap.
So, off I set to ‘smell the glove’ of Spinal Tap and to try and avoid as many spaced-out hippies as possible, but the first thing I learned from Glastonbury was that spaced out hippies weren’t that bad!
It quickly became apparent that this festival was very much like a small city – without any of the problems. This meant that everyone was chilled out and it didn’t matter if you were a hippie or a human being because Glasto’s community was a very friendly place. It was so friendly in fact that I only met one angry drunk and he was a Nottingham Forest fan, so I suppose the anger was somewhat justified.
The second thing that really stands out at the Glastonbury is the amount of stewardship and security – it’s highly visible and everyone is very helpful, aiding people getting in and parking, and providing great support around the site to give guidance and directions.
So after a very small amount of exploration, I headed for the John Peel Stage for the first band of my weekend F***** Up. Surprisingly, this anarcho-punk group – that seemed very out of place at Glasto – delivered one of my favourite performances of the weekend, which included the very fat and very topless lead front man ‘Father Damien’ running from the stage, through the crowd to the sound-deck at the other side of the tent while still singing through the mic.
It was a very surreal start.
After this I saw standout performances from the Horrors, N.E.R.D, The Dead Weathers and The Specials. Friday ended with Bloc Party, who were outstanding and very well received.
After a great Friday, anticipation for Saturday was high. Not only would I be seeing the ‘Tap’, there were numerous other acts that emphasised the great and diverse line-up this year. First came Spinal Tap who performed a funny and bizarre show with highlights including midgets dressed as druids dancing round an abysmally-made inflatable Stonehenge. Also The Gaslight Anthem delivered an extraordinary set with a guest appearance from Pyramid headliner Bruce Springsteen midway through set.
The high calibre performances carried on through the day with Dizzee Rascal owning the Pyramid and bands such as Kasabian, Pendulum and The King Blues delivering very exciting sets.
Sunday was a day for exploration as the thought of seeing either Status Quo or Tony Christie was – at the least – vomit-inducing. This is when I found the Trash City, Arcadia and Shangri-La venues. These very original spots in Glastonbury seemed to be in a different world to the rest of the festival with their venues and even their burger bars made to a different artistic style set in the future or the past, or both. Most were just brilliantly weird and original.
I finished the weekend with a solid set from Glasvegas and a crazy performance from The Prodigy whose performance left fans with mud on their shoes, sweat on their bodies and unknown liquids involuntarily splashed across their face.
Overall? Yes, there was often a waft of faeces when you passed any toilets in a 10 metre radius, yes there were a lot of drugged-up hippies, but I really didn’t care. It felt like you were in a new city but one with a big welcoming community.
The performances in their various types were outstanding, it was fun and well organised and I don’t even need to consider going again – because I am already sure that I will.
And, I will persuade anyone who hasn’t tried it to go next year too.
My Glasto overview . . ..
Poge, I saw your entry about maybe going to Glasto on Facebook and I would love it to be true. I had a ball (see below) and it was a brilliant bonding experience with Oli if you are thinking of doing the same with George. ..
This is the bit from the paper....
This time last week I wrote about the mixture of excitement and trepidation I had about facing my first ever Glastonbury festival.
Was I, despite my immensely youthful appear, too old for all this palava? Would I get my tent up? And would I need to spend the entire weekend with my legs crossed to avoid the toilets from hell?
Well, the answers to those questions in order are no, I wasn’t too old, yes, pop up tents really do pop up (but are strangely reluctant about popping down!) and no I did manage to use the ‘facilities’ – and I’m still alive to tell the story.
Oh but what a story it was.
Put simply, I discovered what thousands have already done in that Glastonbury is a truly remarkable experience which I could recommend to music fans and non-music fans alike. I have now become one of those boring people who discovers things years after everyone else and then waxes lyrical while they’re silently muttering ‘yes we know, in fact we’ve known for 30 years’.
Yes, I have gone from being a Glastonbury virgin this time last week to a born again Glastonbury evangelist today. Hallelujah, praise the Lord – and praise Michael Eavis.
I have been in many large gatherings – sporting, musical, cultural, political etc. – but never have I felt such a sense of community with strangers as I did last weekend.
It was the kind of place where no-one cares how old you are, what you do, what you look like, what race or background you come from or what your views are on politics, religion or David Beckham’s haircut. It is an incredible leveller – a classless community with hardly any sense of hierarchy or corporate awareness and it all feels like an unreal, almost Utopian gathering.
It is hard to pinpoint my happiest memory of the weekend but I think the general sense that a wide diversity of people can come together in often uncomfortable circumstances and form a special bond is what impressed me the most.
Also getting a big thumps up is the peacefulness of the event – I’ve never felt safer or less intimidated among strangers in my life. As an example I was with my son Oli, just 15, and having quickly established the vibe, I felt no qualms for his safety and let him disappear for hours on end on his own. I can genuinely say I have felt more intimidated in a pub with two chavs at a nearby table than in a series of fields with 180,000 strangers.
And what also brought a smile to my face were the huge amount of examples of British eccentricity on view. It was almost impossible to look silly and almost impossible to hear anybody ‘tut’ because there was a real sense of live and let live. You felt that no-one was judging you because everyone was paddling the same oddly-shaped canoe.
Coming away from Glastonbury I started to feel what millions must have felt in the past – a strange sense of anti-climax. It was a magical weekend with unbelievably good music and to return to the harsh reality of the real world was something of a let down.
Still, at least in the real world, the toilets flush.
This is the bit from the paper....
This time last week I wrote about the mixture of excitement and trepidation I had about facing my first ever Glastonbury festival.
Was I, despite my immensely youthful appear, too old for all this palava? Would I get my tent up? And would I need to spend the entire weekend with my legs crossed to avoid the toilets from hell?
Well, the answers to those questions in order are no, I wasn’t too old, yes, pop up tents really do pop up (but are strangely reluctant about popping down!) and no I did manage to use the ‘facilities’ – and I’m still alive to tell the story.
Oh but what a story it was.
Put simply, I discovered what thousands have already done in that Glastonbury is a truly remarkable experience which I could recommend to music fans and non-music fans alike. I have now become one of those boring people who discovers things years after everyone else and then waxes lyrical while they’re silently muttering ‘yes we know, in fact we’ve known for 30 years’.
Yes, I have gone from being a Glastonbury virgin this time last week to a born again Glastonbury evangelist today. Hallelujah, praise the Lord – and praise Michael Eavis.
I have been in many large gatherings – sporting, musical, cultural, political etc. – but never have I felt such a sense of community with strangers as I did last weekend.
It was the kind of place where no-one cares how old you are, what you do, what you look like, what race or background you come from or what your views are on politics, religion or David Beckham’s haircut. It is an incredible leveller – a classless community with hardly any sense of hierarchy or corporate awareness and it all feels like an unreal, almost Utopian gathering.
It is hard to pinpoint my happiest memory of the weekend but I think the general sense that a wide diversity of people can come together in often uncomfortable circumstances and form a special bond is what impressed me the most.
Also getting a big thumps up is the peacefulness of the event – I’ve never felt safer or less intimidated among strangers in my life. As an example I was with my son Oli, just 15, and having quickly established the vibe, I felt no qualms for his safety and let him disappear for hours on end on his own. I can genuinely say I have felt more intimidated in a pub with two chavs at a nearby table than in a series of fields with 180,000 strangers.
And what also brought a smile to my face were the huge amount of examples of British eccentricity on view. It was almost impossible to look silly and almost impossible to hear anybody ‘tut’ because there was a real sense of live and let live. You felt that no-one was judging you because everyone was paddling the same oddly-shaped canoe.
Coming away from Glastonbury I started to feel what millions must have felt in the past – a strange sense of anti-climax. It was a magical weekend with unbelievably good music and to return to the harsh reality of the real world was something of a let down.
Still, at least in the real world, the toilets flush.
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