MY FAVOURITE YEAR
It may be premature to say, but it looks like 2001 is shaping up to be a fine year. So no rock star deaths as yet, but my nemesis, the antithesis of everything I stand for has been cancelled. Yes: the Glastonbury Festival has been binned (where it belongs). Think of the money I will save, not needing to fly in my Sioux raindancers now. I did not need them last year, I trusted the rain making abilities of Travis.
No miserable John Peel and Jo ‘Withered Hand’ Wiley updates every five seconds on my television. No half-cocked British chancers doing secret warm ups in my local just before the festival. No chance of Pearl Jam ever rocking up on our shores again. You could spare a tear for Coldplay – who were a shoe-in for the miserable rock slot (Saturday night), and and another for the novelty act on Sunday afternoon (probably Tony Hadley, or Robbie Williams). And your beloved alt country acts will have no excuse to get work permits. As for the so called Jazz/World stage. My new year cup is over flowing with the news that the Afro-Celtic Sound System will be deprived of the one venue that really, truly believes that they are the next big thing. The phrase blunting middle means nothing, and is bad English, but when used to describe the Afro-Celt Sound System it makes some kind of horrific sense.
Hah – the beauty is that it is all the fault of pikey students who climb the fence every year to get in. Something which always reminds me of watching the Great Escape on super slo-mo rewind. Except the place they are breaking into is less Colditz and more Dante’s Fifth Circle of Hell.
So apologies in advance, I may not update for some time. Pubs of WC1 be warned – make sure your gin stocks are replenshed. I am coming and I may be with you for some time.