GLASTONBURYOFTHEMIND LIVE FROM GLASTONBURY 2007 part 1
Its not really about the festival for me, not initially. Its about Eleanor’s house, Wellands, in Pilton. I never thought I’d be back here, Eleanor passed -quickly - after the last festival. But the house aint sold Paul invited us down and well I’d probably come here if I didn’t have a ticket for the festival just to be back at Wellands and feel the special something Eleanor left here - her books, her art , her presence is still here.
The books in the library are a poem, a symphony, a tribute to herself, life, times and ever enquiring mind. Eleanor would clear out of the house for the festival, go visit old friends, welcoming her son’s pals before leaving, but her home and heart was as good an example of “the Glastonbury spirit” as anything I’d care to imagine.
The backstage was flooded on Wednesday night when we arrived, the security presence was more notable, extra heavy handed presence.
No surprise - Glastonbury has increased, almost doubled in sze from 100,00 to 180,00, and from a 3 days festival to a 4 day (by Thursday night 87% of the revellers had arrived, the tents and gazedbos stretching over the hillside, an upmarket favelo, guy rope to guy rope, flysheet to flysheet.)
Jeff Barrett is the vivid presence on the first night, we roam the fields drinking, hearing snatch shots of sounds here and there, Jeff is the dreamer scemer fisher king incarnate, always a Glaston associate, right on the money, The Paragon’s Tide Is High, Jackson Browne’s Before The Flood on the soundtrack, the ideas, the crack, the laugh, the food all teeming abundant, great veggie options, you have no excuse to eat bad food at Glasto. Jaymo (?) a new young singer songwriter Jeff is woirking with is in our group at one of our stops as we wait for J1 to ablute she starts singing. Sweet real, live honest lovely unaffected vocals. In a toilet queue, people dont do that anymore, too self conscious half the time possibly but its good to hear it. I dont know how Im not going to like her stuff when I get to hear her play live. She had the same Damuscus Dylan experience with Highway 61 , aged 10, as I did, Van and Bob are her two main men, she just cant understand, is baffled that Bob’s later albums dont get regarded the way they should. Here favourite is Street legal, the canon is changing, the walls are breaking down, Jaymo is a new generation and they WILL, they will break down the walls.
Home to the kitchen by 3 after tramping tramping tramping…got as far as the Green fields, a sacred space, the guy who makes the marvellous example of english ingenuity the candle steam powered boat fashioned from an empty bean can had shit up for the night but in the healing fields…mucho bliss and gentle lights, twinkling in the night. The fucking mobile goes off, I gotta leave in a hurry, or I bespoiling the special mood. But so good to see the healing fields, retains its sanctified glory, despite the increased swecurity, corprorate sponsorship, random checks etc..
THe Paragons and J Browne choons were prophetic - the sky is teeming this morning. Time to start tramping - a day of mud and vibes ahead, I have a review to do for tomorrow. Arctics, Amy and Kasabian on the mainstage though the greatest music of the festival may well be occuring while the Fratellis are doing the honours at the Pyramid - over at the Jazz Stage with Toumani Diabette’s Symettric Orchestra the hot sounds from Mali…
The first lesson you learn in looking at the programme is that - however much you see you can be sure at Glastonbury you are going to miss far more than you hear.
