TV coverage of Glasto was looking a bit uninspiring for my tastes until The Prodigy and Blur turned up on Sunday. Of course, for me, most of the joy of the festival is being lost in a field discovering something for the first time, being privy to an impromptu 3 a.m. performance by an insomniac genius or contributing to or working for the festival, rather than being a punter.
It's a shame that Oxfam, Greenpeace and Water Aid didn't appear to be given a slot to spout some positive propaganda and we really should have had an in depth exploration of all the innovation that goes on, including solar and wind powered generators.
Despite knowing most of the words to Bruce Springsteen's 1980 album, The River, musically, I'd rather have been at the Sonar Festival or All Tomorrow's Parties but then again, the subtleties and textures of electronic music tend to get a bit lost when heard live in cavernous marquees and buildings.
One of the best things about this year's Glasto was that my neighbours went, leaving in their wake a wonderful tranquillity, allowing me to enjoy the butterflies, moths, damselflies and night scented stock in the garden while still being able to hear myself think.
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