Five years ago I went to Glastonbury for the first time. It was disgusting. I hated it. It was a proper torrential downfall year so the weather conditions coupled with it being my first festival and very first camping experience made for a horrific attitude from me and a general bad time. I remember distinctly asking my tent buddy James to punch me in the face so I passed out and could get to sleep as I was sure it was never going to happen naturally (he didn't).
This year though, with many more festivals under my belt and an excellent group of mates to go with, it was time to try the Somerset fields out once again. And well, it certainly didn't rain. It didn't rain so much that my gorgeous new wellies are still shiny and I had to spend a huge chunk of Saturday afternoon lying back at camp in the shade because I thought I was going to pass out. Naomi & I both have most excellent comedy sandal tanginess too.
Everyone goes on about Glasto moments. I'll post mine over the next couple of days, but this was the ultimate one.
Ray Davies - 'Days'
My knowledge of The Kinks is quite limited to the big singles. I still highly irritate all my friends by talking much more favourably about the Cathy Dennis version of Waterloo Sunset than the original (probably because it was the first one I heard). My knowledge of Ray Davies was zip until last year I went to see his very long and slightly strange musical Come Dancing and then caught a tiny bit of his SXSW set.
At Glasto I could have chosen the footie or Ray but I'm sure I made the right decision. A set filled with classics and not so, it was just about the right balance to keep everyone interested. The brilliant Crouch End Festival Chorus joined him for most of the set and added a brilliant wall of sound harmony to sounds like 'You Got Me' and the jolly 'The Village Green Preservation Society' (which was surely the inspiration for the Divine Comedy's entire career). The real highlight though came in 'Days', a song I only realised was 'a song' and not just a Yellow Pages advert about 4 months ago. Dedicated to The Kinks' bassist Pete Quaife who died last week, it was utterly spine tingling emotional. Ray cried, I cried. It was, as they say, a 'moment'.
Obviously it sounds rubbish on tv. Thanks television.
It's a beautiful song - although I always preferred the Kirsty MacColl version. Glad you had a proper good Glastonbury. Nothing better than music + big field + sun + food cooked by a man with too much facial hair.
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