Now here is another bit of Weasel Trivia: I have never been to a Music Festival, unless you count a day at Greenbelt 20 years ago. I am slightly claustrophobic, selectively. It means that, if I was in a crowed field with thousands of others on a perfect day, I would have a background feeling of discomfort, and would be glad to get out.
I am also a reconstructed hippy. That means I wash and don't take drugs and enjoy good glassware on the tablecloth.
So here we are with Glasonbury, the mother of festivals, headlining this year with "The Boss". Even his title makes me cringe. Well, the idea of being stuck in the mud in Pilton with 50,000 call centre workers does not bring back memories of tie-dyes, Levis Gypsies and Patchouli. It brings back the memories of job centres and banks and starbucks and people who tell me my call is important but for now, fuck off.
Is it me or do you think Glastonbury is past its sell by date? Young Weasel, who is almost as cool as I am, does a lot of festivals because unlike me, he doesn't burst into tears if he runs out of moist toilet tissue. He goes to lots of very nice little festivals with people one has never heard of.
So what's it with the Glasto vibe? Merely the age of the dilletante writ large? Peace man and back to making enough bread to bulk buy tickets for next year's event?