Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? Whether you watched from home or found yourself in the Green Fields Glastonbury 2015 was an endless journey of discovery this past weekend. It also has a tendency to throw up some pretty funny sights. Here are best things we learnt…
IT’S COSTUMES OR NOTHING
Boy George came dressed as the Babadouk. Lily Allen was spotted in a Park Stage bar dressed as a fully-erect penis, with very muddy balls. Adele came as an entire souk. Yes, 2015 was a veritable pop star costume parade, and those that didn’t have any fancy dress to pop on preferred to wear nothing at all. Both Florence and half of Rudimental were seen stripping off as they left the stage. Literal fleshfest back there.
KANYE BROUGHT AN ARMY
On Saturday, when The Maccabees asked to put one of their mates on the guest list, they were told that every space was gone. Why? Because Kanye had hoovered up every spare guest list place. And since there was a rumour he was hoping to drive a tank onstage, presumably he brought down his own personal militia, or ‘coptered in emergency extra crew to help build his stage set – the epic overnight construction job didn’t finish until 10.30am.
FRANK TURNER IS A HUMAN SMUGGLER
As a result of Kanye’s Arcadian takeover, other acts were driven to criminal extremes to get their guests onsite. Frank Turner even smuggled a friend into the festival in the back of his tour van. What we need, comrades, is a tunnel…
ARCADE MACHINES ARE THE NEW BROWN M&MS
By far the weirdest thing on any band’s rider this year was the fruit machine that Lemmy from Motorhead had installed into his dressing room to feed his crippling small-stakes gambling habit. By coincidence, Ryan Adams also brought along a Metallica-themed pinball machine. Rumours that Spector heard about this and immediately demanded a full House Of The Dead be delivered to their pop-up tent immediately were unconfirmed as we went to press. Meanwhile, what was on Pete Doherty’s rider? Donuts.
CATFISH ARE STILL SKINT
Either that or Glastonbury pays bands really, really poorly. How do we know this? Because during Catfish & The Bottlemen’s set, Van McCann glanced down, noticed a pound coin on the floor, lunged for it and held it aloft going “YES!” He’ll be sending the rest of the band out into the crowd to collect large, leaning towers of returnable pint cups next.
IT WAS A BACKSTAGE LOVE-FEST
Swim Deep and Frank Turner bigged up Wolf Alice from the stage. Frank was side of stage for Swim Deep. Tim Burgess was declaring his undying devotion to Catfish and asking for a photo with Justin Young of The Vaccines. Lars Ulrich, having presumably got lost trying to find his way offsite last year and spent the last twelve months in the cow barn, was side of stage for The Libertines. Florence led a trail of devotees from Spector, Wolf Alice and The Mystery Jets across the Park backstage bar like the indie Pied Pier. Honestly, if you could catch anything from air-kisses, the entire Glastonbury bill would be laid out with some sort of beanburger-based botulism by now.
REAL STARS QUEUE
“Don’t you know who I am?” LoneLady’s face seemed to say as she stormed straight to the front of a queue for burittos, full of a misguided sense of starry entitlement. Such a contrast to the man who dutifully queued up behind the NME team at the Waitrose in Fleet service station, pointedly refusing to use his star power to get his babywipes quicker. That man? None other than Jonathan ‘Wossy’ Ross. Sir, we salute you.
KIDDIES LOVE CORDEN
Any sentient being over the age of seven obviously thinks James Corden is a prize arse and national Brits embarrassment. But by golly the kiddy-winks luv ‘im. He was mobbed by grasping tykes wherever he went all weekend and dished out autographs like lollipops. Ditto Rio Ferdinand.
Even if you concoct a flag reading ‘ANNOYING FLAG’, the flag you’ve made remains annoying.
YELLOW WELLIES RUIN ANY IMAGE
So all of Everything Everything troop onto the Other Stage decked out in fabbo futuristic red space robes, looking for all the world like the leaders of an intergalactic dictatorship. Except singer Jonathan Higgs is wearing… bright yellow wellies. One minute he’s a hypersexual alien emperor, the next he looks like an am-dram panto villain. Uck.
THERE WERE BOXES FULL OF STARS
Those shipping containers you spotted up near the Park Stage? They weren’t full of bottled water, woodchip or Kanye tanks. They were full of celebrities. Yes, the latest ultra-expensive VIP rip-off craze this year was shipping containers converted into bijou luxury apartments for the likes of Jessie Ware. So now you know how much fun it’ll be next year to bang on the sides with cricket bats.