We did Glastonbury the other day. The Avalon stage. To be honest it wasn’t a gig I was looking forward to. I’d never been to ‘Glasto’ before – it was one of those events that passed me by until it became so popular it looked like a huge communal bio hazard. We were on on Sunday afternoon and had gigs elsewhere on Friday and Saturday, so the plan was to get in, do the gig, and get out again before we got trapped on Sunday night with 150,000 hippies trying to get home. Entering the site at 11.00am on Sunday the overwhelming ambience was one of human excrement. I’m sure the people there aren’t aware of it, because we didn’t notice it as much after half an hour, but the stench of shit and shit-eating chemicals is very strong. The only time you can’t smell human shit is when you pass the cow sheds where Worthy Farm’s usual inhabitants are sadly holed up during the festival, and the smell of hot cow dung there is so strong it’s almost a natural high. We had an hour to kill before our slot and wandered about the ‘craft’ and ‘healing’ fields… there’s some serious time wasting going on there – people that I suspect have first class degrees from Oxbridge in tents pretending to make a living out of selling chrystals. Oh dear. BUT the GIG was EXTRAORDINARY. Unlike any gig we’ve every done. The Avalon tent was packed. I don’t know who they were, but they’d definitely come to that stage to see us. (One of the crowd is pictured above). It was only our 4th gig as the new three-piece outfit but it was the quickest 50 mins of my life. We had far too many songs on the set list and had to keep chopping away whilst we were on. It forced us to cut down to our favourite songs. And the reaction was quite frankly overwhelming. When we normally finish a gig we raise our glasses to the crowd and shambolically edge our way off stage. But this was different. It seemed like everyone there was cheering and clapping. Lots of newly tanned bare arms clapping above heads in unison. Like a really mellow Nazi rally. The more we edged towards the exit the louder the reaction from the crowd. We got kind of trapped. We felt we couldn’t really leave, and just stood there in a daze. It was a beautiful moment, one I’ve never experienced before, and it made us feel strangely tearful. It affected me deeply. The crowd obviously noticed the effect they were having and the noise increased. It was without doubt the best experience I’ve ever had as a live performer. Was it transcendental? (Maybe I should get a tent in the ‘healing’ field next year). Thank you everone that was there that made it happen. I’ll never forget it.