Glastonbury next week.

 Glastonbury next week.

It hardly seems possible that, after a three year absence from its natural place in the English cultural calendar, Glastonbury should be rubbing its hands in excited anticipation ready to return stronger, fitter and better than ever. For the last three years or so that glorious piece of agricultural land in the middle of Somerset has remained empty and without any kind of mainstream at times bizarre but always innovative music.

But next weekend Glastonbury opens its rich green pastures to the now customary influx of thousands upon thousands of ardent festival goers. It is now three years since Glastonbury's splendid eccentricities and vast musical eclecticism, were exposed to the world blasting out its good vibes out across this quaint corner of England. Here cider drinkers across the whole of the region will compare notes about when they first traipsed across Glastonbury and, in its early 1970s infancy, the main refreshments consisted of bottles of milk and there was a small parcel of land on which to watch the likes of Fairport Convention, David Bowie and Hawkwind making their considerable presence felt. 

Then, in complete contrast to the way things used to be, Glastonbury was probably heard and watched by herds of Friesian cows, several very reflective groups of sheep and lambs and some very diligent farmers roaming across the gloaming as Somerset awaited with some excitement its new very hip occupants. Now those days of innocence have long since passed into the history books and Glastonbury is a massive, expansive, commercially savvy pop music festival with gigantic tents, marquees, flags and banners. 

Now it is a remarkably successful and yearly pop concert, a global music phenomenon that continues to capture the imagination and mood of the nation. Britain can feel immensely proud of its traditions and golden Glastonbury memories, revealing powerful insights into the whole emotional gamut of music from every corner of the world. Glastonbury displays the very best in modern celebrities, gifted artists and singers, bands you would never have known had existed and the very best in late night music under the stars. But then fate intervened. 

A year before the pandemic you can remember watching Janet Jackson, the sister of the now sadly missed Michael. Jackson who went through the whole repertoire of her hits as if she'd performed them a thousand times. Behind her a well choreographed line up of dancers dug out American soul and disco at its finest. Not for a minute did you think that Glastonbury was about to go into meltdown. When coronavirus arrived, Glastonbury was the first major social TV driven event to be cancelled. It would not be declared fit to go again until this year. 

But once again the countryside is gearing itself for one mighty homage to music. Behind Glastonbury are the rolling hills of the Mendips, green carpets of beautifully manicured grass, gothic castles and, in the distance, camper vans and eco warriors, those environmentally friendly teenagers and adults who can still remember Manfred Mann. They will set up their capacious tents in thick acres of Somerset mud, reviewing their itineraries for the trip and making sure that the small gas hob, paraffin heater and kettle are ready for breakfast the following morning. 

Glastonbury of course is a mammoth military and logistical operation, where initiatives are tested to the full and organisation becomes very much the essential requirement to make it all work. It would be easy to put it into very specific categories until you remember that it also welcomes the whole spectrum of every conceivable strand of music. Glastonbury does heavy rock at its most boisterous and energetic. It warmly invites folk from the most medieval age, harpists and cellists from Eastern Europe, gorgeous jazz and trad jazz and groups with unpretentious, stripped down compositions. It is music at its most all encompassing and, it has to be said, music with a very real air of authenticity. There is nothing fake in Somerset.

About a decade ago, Glastonbury adopted a now memorable laissez faire approach to, quite literally, any kind of music, band or singing artist they could think of. Even now the sight of Shirley Bassey belting out her classics quite emphatically and unequivocally, still brings a smile to your face. More recently, Neil Diamond eased himself onto the headline stage act of the year and Sweet Caroline, even after its recent reinvention and resurrection, sounded better than ever. And who could ever forget Tom Jones, the ageless rocker, irrepressible and once the toast of Somerset?

And yet this year, back after what seems like a three year illness, Glastonbury lives on. To the 1960s hippies and Woodstock nostalgic types, this is the one time of the year when you can be whoever you want to be. This year the wonderful Motown legend who is Diana Ross will finally get the chance to harmonise exquisitely on I'm Coming Out', Upside Down and from her Supremes yesteryear You Can't Hurry Love and Baby Love, standards of timeless beauty and art. 

Finally and perhaps appropriately given the length of time since the festival last graced our discerning ears, one of the greatest singer songwriters of all time, will celebrate his 80th birthday. Paul McCartney is 80 this year and if Glastonbury had written this in its illustrious script it couldn't have picked anybody more famous to crank up the engine and let the good times roll. We of course will be expecting the full Beatles treatment including Hey Jude, Yesterday, Sergeant Peppers, Paperback Writer, Let it Be and the Wings back catalogue of Let 'Em In and Listen to What the Man Said. What a way to announce your return to business Glastonbury. Welcome back. It's nice to have you back again.