Don't blame it on the sunshine ... Michael Eavis at this year's Glastonbury festival. Photograph: Sarah Lee
So Michael Eavis has blamed the slightly sodden atmosphere at Glastonbury 2007 not on the torrential rain, but on the infestation of middle-aged party poopers who snapped up all the tickets before the young and hungover had a chance to get out of bed.
The Arts blog team certainly noticed a missing generation of Glastonbury-goers at this year's event, as did the NME. But while I, at 23, just about fit into Eavis' ideal festivalgoer demographic, I have to confess I was responsible for the presence of two 50-somethings this time around.
I started going to Glastonbury when I was 15. My friends and I weren't allowed to go without a chaperone, so my dad volunteered to come along. He drove us down, camped on his own, checked out some bands, then drove us back. We saw him about twice all weekend.
The best party in the world had dad and me hooked, and we've both gone every year ever since. However, this year my mother decided to tag along too. Before we went, she kept saying, "I'll be fine as long as it's sunny." Needless to say, she wasn't fine and she isn't going back. Ever. "So please don't get married there," she has warned me.
One of my favourite things about Glastonbury is its genuinely diverse crowd - from a 60-year-old wizard I met at a Rabbit Hole teepee party to the ever-present toddlers (although maybe they should ban posh picnic parents to get the original free love, rave spirit back). Reading, V and all the rest can cater for the NME teen crowds.
But if Eavis does want to get a younger audience, I can't see how selling more tickets via the phoneline is going to help. Surely the astronomical price of a ticket these days, and the evil super fence, is more of a barrier? And perhaps they should consider ditching the Sunday afternoon dinosaur slot on the Pyramid Stage while they're at it. Sorry Shirley.
