Dear Doctor, Glastonbury is over and I need help to ease back into the real world.
Aye, post-Glastonbury, 175,000 souls emerge quivering from hallowed fields in the Vale of Avalon and meander bleakly back to the office. At work, these festival warriors are easy to spot – a farmer tan, a vacant stare, and is that a faint nodding at the photocopier? Any repeating beat seems to have that effect in the aftermath of such a music-filled fiesta.
Magical sets were devoured by audiences up to 100,000 strong, singing in unison. This year Kanye, Burt Bacharach, Patti Smith, Paul Weller and Lionel Richie took their turn at being choir masters, and the Who drew proceedings to a close late on Sunday night. There’s a lot to take in at the largest greenfield festival in the world, and several days spent in the open does take its toll, so a little mollycoddling post-celebrations is welcome. Here’s a little musical tlc from the Doctor (herself rather bleary-eyed).
King of the hill for me was legendary vibraphone player Roy Ayers, so play Everybody Loves The Sunshine and nod sagely along to this master of groove. Follow with Ron Sexsmith’s chill version of Is Anybody Goin’ To San Antone by Charley Pride, from his new album Carousel One. Keep the vibes low with Father John Misty’s Chateau Lobby No 4. He played a corker set on the Park stage, followed by the inimitable Mavis Staples – so next, play the Staple Singers’ Don’t Knock. Follow with the Melbourne Morrissey – Courtney Barnett and her Depreston; get high with the mighty organ in the Commodores’ Machine Gun; then end your set, just like the Who did this year, with a rousing rendition of Baba O’Riley. Only 12 months to go till next time.
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