Welcome to the South Easy
Well, I made it back from Glastonbury in one piece, despite a ten hour return journey which included me getting kicked off a train for having the wrong sort of ticket, meaning I had to wait four hours in Bath at 5am, which as you can imagine, isn’t the most exciting place at that time in the morning.
Still, no point dwelling on that, as the festival was more than incredible enough. First up to headline on Friday night was the one and only Snoop, and he smashed it, backed by full on live band, dropping all the classics, Gin N Juice, Drop It Like Its Hot, and even bringing out Tiny Tempah for a remix of Pass Out. Tempah seems to be getting everywhere at the moment, that track especially seems to have got him some serious sway with US artists at the moment. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see him popping up on a few more stateside releases very soon.
Managed to make it to the Foreign Beggars’ midday show on Saturday, despite a pretty heavy night exploring the festival site, including the bizarre Mad Max inspired area that is Arcadia. Obviously missing the presence of Orifice Vulgatron who is currently denied entry to the UK over visa issues, which is a complete joke, Metropolis and No-Names were joined by Dr Syntax, Kyza Smirnoff and MC Zany, which was a more than capable line up. Despite some terrible work by the sound engineers in the West Dance tent, where the first twenty minutes was pretty horrible, by the time they had got around to bringing out some of their new bangers, things were much improved. Their fans were obviously going to stick with them through thick and thin though, and the place went absolutely apeshit when Seven Figure Swagger and Contact blasted through the speakers. One final word for anyone going to see them live any time soon. Watch out for the Wall of Death. Holy Shit. That was mental.
Never been a massive Gorillaz fan, but their live show on the Saturday night was pretty sick. They had a serious list of guest appearances, bringing out De La Soul, Imani from The Pharcyde, Tiny Tempah (again!), Shaun Ryder, and Lou Reed. Impressive stuff.
As you might know, I was there to guest at a couple of gigs by DJ Kormac and his big band. The first of these was in an area called Shangri La, which nestles in the far corner of the festival site. So much so, that both these areas were full to capacity and closed to newcomers by the time I’d finished watching George Clinton & Parliament Funkadelic (Oh my days) and DJ Craze, so I had to employ a hell of a lot of blag to get through the blockades and make it to the gig on time. The gig started at 4am, by which time Club Dada was filled to the brim, and I think the show went pretty damn well judging by the cheers at the end of the set.
Sunday night, there was only one name on people’s lips. At 9:45pm on the massive Pyramid stage, the legend that is Stevie Wonder stepped on stage and blew everyone away. He’s 60 now, yet his voice might belong to someone half his age, having lost none of his range or power. I really think it might have been one of the best live gigs I’ve ever seen, and if you live in the UK, I highly recommend you get on BBC iPlayer and watch it right now.
After that, there was only time for one more gig with the band at the Pussy Parlure, and then we shipped out, having packed up our tents earlier that evening, at around 3am for the journey home. When I was woken up on the train in Brighton station by a helpful woman, I was so relieved to have made it home, but the magic of the weekend will stay with me for a long time.