Tuesday, July 01, 2025

The Balsamic Vinegar People

 "My people were fair and had sky in their hair but now they're content to wear stars on their brows." Simpler times according to Marc Bolan eh? Hard to think of Glastonbury and not reflect on times past when festivals were a muddier, dirty mess where you bought your ticket from a farmer at the gate whilst carrying a ragged tent and six cans of pre-ring pull beer.  From then on things just got more messy and disorganized but you'd eventually hear, perhaps even see Hawkwind, Gentle Giant or Thin Lizzy before passing out behind the burger van. Then the Thames Valley Police Force turned angry for no obvious reason.

Your mum and dad had no idea if you were alive or dead or even where you might be cos' you didn't tell them you were going. Eventually you'd hitch hike home, penniless and bruised but happy. Apparently now Glastonbury is full of shiny, privileged "Balsamic Vinegar" people waving flags at a stage a mile away, hoping for a glimpse of a legend and enjoying beans and pulses served in sustainably sourced containers but nonetheless having a good time despite the prospect of all the terrible traffic there and back again. 

The BBC screenshot above is from their main news page. Even in a crazy world like this there's something annoying about finding Glastonbury's "so called" news full and frontal everywhere at this time of year. Nothing else important must be happening on the planet. The narrative that's pushed of the over-egged social significance of various performances, statements and behaviours, is odd and to my mind totally misplaced. I say this as a pro-Palestine, pro-justice, pro-human rights, pro-whatever the fuck, old fogey. I just don't think Rod Stewart's remarks, Paloma Faith's views, Kneecap's stance or fan criticism about singers lip syncing or auto-tune use, warrant headlines and exhaustive coverage. 

I will forever dislike the jabbering positivity and "in a bubble" antics of the well manicured presenters - we need a break from this. Just let the festival(s) be without all this exhaustive curation and analysis. It's obviously going to be good and bad in places and artists will act like dickheads but there's a least 60 million people on this scabby island who are not there and maybe not at all bothered that you missed Wet Leg or Billy Bragg because you were stuck in the queue for some hot stone, colonic meditation. 

Yes, it's all pretty predictable stuff at this time of year but perhaps we'll get Glasto tickets from the festival fairy in 2026 and maybe discover what really goes on.

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