Michael Eavis, Glastonbury's bard of beards. Photograph: David Levene/Guardian
Friday's TV coverage begins with words to put a smile on the face of anyone watching Glasters on the sofa: a "severe weather" warning. BBC reporters tell us that the average Glastonburyer will carry a ton of Michael Eavis's farm around on their boots during the day? Alas, the thrilling prospect of being tucked up on The Sofa watching hippies drowning in a monsoon never materialises. The rain holds off, and we're left watching Amy Winehouse (who is staring weirdly, as if focussed on a distant cloud) while pondering the disturbing notion that this year we might actually want to be there.
This is soon banished by more disturbing sights on this year's television coverage: a predominance of beards. If 1997 was the Tsunami year, 2007 is the year of disreputable facial hair. While the cameramen focus unduly on beards in the crowd, it seems that every televised act has some form of hideous facial appendage. The Fratellis are newly bearded, as are Super Furry Animals, unless the hairy creature on guitar previously known as Bunf actually is the 1971, bearded, pre-bathtub Jim Morrison. Presenter Zane Lowe sports a beard; there are beards in Rufus Wainwright's band. A punter in the front row has clearly gone for the "Eavis look" - big beard, bald head - as if everybody has spent months preparing that authentic Glasto "mad hippie" look.
The upside is that musically there seems to be some sort of inverse Samson effect going on: the more beardy the band, the better they are. Thus, clean-shaven Mumm-Ra (who seem to have got an awful lot of TV time - maybe they sold the director a false beard?) are appalling; the newly beardie Kasabian lads destroy Glastonbury along with their razors. The exception to this rule are Arctic Monkeys, but we like to think drummer Matt Helders is bearded in spirit. The TV coverage reveal that he is the band's unsung star, not only propelling the band but also singing. This, obviously, is how Phil Collins started, so it can only be a matter of time before the drummer disposes of Alex Turner and fronts the band in stadiums wailing endless lurve ballads, while growing a goatee. Back on The Sofa, The Dog decides that the Monkeys are the best band on the TV - turning up the volume by treading on the remote. Conspiracy theorists may note that The Dog is a hairy creature, and thus is technically bearded.
