Saturday, 27 June 2009


My poor brain. My poor feet. My poor back. My poor everything.

Rolf Harris and Spinal Tap on the same day. Too much genius for any mind to handle. From Two Little Boys to The Majesty of Rock. I can die a happy woman.

First, Rolf. And from the word go it was clear there was going to be trouble. Headed to Jazz World and pointed out to a mate that it was odd that he was playing there.

"I saw him on the Pyramid in 2002," I said. "The whole of Glastonbury turned out."

And, it turned out that the whole of Glastonbury had turned out again. Jazz World is clearly a smaller field than the Pyramid and foot traffic became gridlocked as people tried to get to the field. When Rolfie took to the stage the paths leading to the stage were packed with people, flags and banners and we were forced to listen to his first number while standing next to some toilets in the field next to Jazz World. Mmmm. Stinky.

Eventually edged a little closer and started shaking my funky thang to Sun Arise and The Irish Rover, watched a thirty-year old man with a spike through his eyebrow get reduced to tears by a rousing rendition of Two Little Boys. The sacrilegious -but-hilarious wobble-board version of Stairway to Heaven was a perfect closer.

Sadly, Fine Day was missed off the setlist for some reason, but given the patriotic version of Tie me Kangaroo Down, Sport (sung to the tune of Land of Hope and Glory) I'm prepared to forgive him. Once again, Rolf has cemented himself in my conciousness as my favourite geriatric, animal-bothering, Australian entertainer. 

Then a quick jog to the Pyramid for Spinal Tap. "Hello, whoever you are!" barked Nigel. "You've missed us!"

At this point I could start making quips about turning it up to 11, but that would be lame. Nigel and co were genius. Perfectly bemused the Majesties of Rock treated the hot and sweaty crowd to Stone 'enge, Hotter than hell, Hell hole, Big Bottom, Gimme some Money, the deeply appropriate Stinkin' Up The Great Outdoors, Saucy Jack and Sex Farm amongst others. A mini Stone 'enge carried through the crowd by a couple of punters raised cheers before the band had even made it on stage and predictably made it to the big screens.

Cameos from Jamie Cullum and Jarvis Cocker, a misbehaving inflatable Stonehenge and two dancing dwarves dressed as monks and forgetting to introduce the drummer because they expected him to have died all served to make me a very happy (if sweaty) camper indeed and made me want to rush out and see This is Spinal Tap again.

Threw some horns, played air guitar, waved my hair in people's faces and generally had a brilliant time. Course, I'm from Street. I was bound to appreciate a band featuring the namesake of the patron saint of quality footwear.

Anyway.  Must crack on.