I have no photos of Glastonbury 2017 other than the one above of the shitty little tent I got from Lidl two days before going.
I only spent about five minutes in it over the four or so days we were there but for the sake of posterity, there she blows. Thankfully there was much more on offer than just this tent although it's taken us until now to piece the narrative together. Still however much was forgotten, I'm never going to forget how much it hurt coming back on the Monday. Sloping back into Tottenham at 10am that morning having not slept for the past two nights and with only a Babybell and the crumbs of a bacon butty as fuel meant for a massive, grizzly ouch. Here is a list of the best things we can (kind of) vaguely remember...
Craig David
Turns out he can kill it on the main stage when he's got a laptop full of big R&B bangers and some pure syrup coming out of his gob. The whole site must blatantly have been pissed when he played on the Friday afternoon as he got tongues wagging for the duration of the festival. It's hardly Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock but whatevs, 2017 isn't as good as 1969 is it?
The Crow's Nest
Perhaps the coolest spot in the whole place, this bar at the top of the Park gives you a bird's eye view of the entire site and some of the best musical selections of the weekend. We were there on Sunday for the final hurrah which meant some huge chugging techno courtesy of one of Jagwa Ma. It was extreme as minds frayed ever closer to the edge.
Thatchers
Every other weekend of the year I would say Thatchers is the most disgusting liquid you could insert in your mouth. Even bleach is more appealing. But somehow at Glastonbury it works as the perfect fuel to keep you standing upright when you really should be having a lie down. Nice work Thatchers. You've got a well deserved reputation as loopy juice.
Justice
Sure Justice haven't progressed their sound too much from the early 2000s but jesus god it sounded extremely large and ravey when they headlined the West Holts on Sunday night. They still smoke, have big lights, a weird god complex and the biggest kick drums this side of Van Halen. The perfect antidote to flagging spirits.
Dancing in tents
Away from Radiohead and Ed Sheeran one finds oneself dancing to no mark DJs but with big tunes in their bag at all times of the day. Sunday morning was a case in point. Although I've no idea where we were or who they were. Props to the underdogs without any rep. I haven't a clue about your identities but you kept it large and in charge.
NYC Downlow
The best club in the world? Quite possibly, this alive and voguing shrine to the meat packing district raves of seventies down town New York is the one, especially when they crank it up and all you can see are amyl cracking drag queens. Intense, crazy and weird.
Acting like a caveman
There's a lot to be said for changing one's pants and socks in the real world. Your rep will be mud if you have stinking toes and halitosis. But at Glastonbury, who cares. I didn't take my shoes off the whole weekend and felt all the better for it.
We went to Glastonbury in 2015 too and
this is what happened...
