With little to entertain me this weekend other than the distant strains of drunken singing in the streets of my neighbourhood on a Saturday night (let's face it, NOBODY sang the following night-Thanks, Germany), I resigned myself to catching the late night BBC coverage of Glastonbury Festival.
I watched little bits of Pet Shop Boys live, their performace alternating between somewhat entertaining & unique, right through to woeful examples of PA problems and forgetting the lyrics to 'Left To My Own Devices'-a travesty, I tell you!
I missed Gorillaz, but then I wasn't sure when they were going to be on. I caught Shakira by accident; the wiggly hips and all that onstage lapdancing she does is somewhat lost when she hasn't got a scrap of makeup on. It's Glastonbury, FFS. Make an effort, girl...
Now I have to say that I like Muse. Their albums and live sets are often quite staggering; I'd give vital organs to be able to play as well as their bassist. 'Hysteria' is an amazing song.
This weekend they were at best, all noise and trousers; their heart wasn't quite in it. The highlight of the set was of course, U2's Edge strolling on stage while playing the opening guitar part to 'Where The Streets Have No Name' which was as magical as it sounds, and my gawd they did the song justice. If you can iPlayer it or whatever then do so immediately.
Overall though, when did one of the UK's biggest festivals suddenly become 'Now That's What I call Music Live'??? I mean, Dizzy Rascal???
I'm pretty sure the rot set in with the BBC and their repeated entire-set coverage of Macey bloody Gray back in 2000, compared to the woefully minimal coverage (1 song, and not even their best) of one of the actual headliners; a certain 'not on our corporate playlist' Nine Inch Nails.
I attended the 2000 festival, and just to briefly remind you of the musical calibre back then, among the enormous lineup was Nine Inch Nails, David Bowie, Moby, Chemical Brothers, Leftfield, Fat Boy Slim, Utah Saints, Asian Dub Foundation, Muse, Elastica, Death In Vegas, Moloko, Wannadies, Bloodhound Gang and Semisonic (remember them? Me hardly, either). Oh, and bloody Travis, who were as commercially omnipotent back then as that bastard Oasis lot.
However, there was not a single girlgroup, boyband or Pop Idol winner in the mix. This was of course, back then when music journalists had testicles and major record companies knew better than to put forward their latest androgynous stick insect as a lineup entry. Glastonbury is now so corporate I wouldn't be surprised if the Hare Krishna stall was sponsored by Orange.
Bah. The 'too posh to mudslide' generation get everything they deserve. Which apparently this weekend was heatstroke and one or two heart attack fatalities. Porschia & Tarquin will be as red as lobsters, mindless on weak cannabis, get picked up by Mummy in Daddy's four-by-four after abandoning their tent and losing their iphones and will in total, have contributed precisely fuck all to the spirit of what was once the biggest fringe festival in the UK.
So, you may ask, why am I ranting about something that I would never ever grace with my presence again?
Imagine if Wave Gotik Treffen was suddenly sponsored by Hot Topic?
Ahh, NOW you're shitting yourselves, aren't you?