‘VARIOUS ARTISTS’ – GLASTONWICK FESTIVAL, CHURCH FARM, COOMBES 2-4.6.23
When a festival is celebrating its 26th year you just know its formula is a winner. In the case of Glastonwick, an annual favourite for me, it combines well selected, largely lefty/radical, properly gender balanced (nice one, John!) entertainment with a mind boggling selection of decent real ales, including vegan and gluten free ones, and ciders and a beautiful location – all curated by the inimitable Attila the Stockbroker and brought to life by his comrades Mel, Alex, plus the folk at Church Farm, the Welly and a great crew of volunteers.
I arrived pretty late on the Friday just in time to catch some of the wonderful tones of Blyth Power in this year’s new barn set up, which I thought worked brilliantly, so sadly missed Indignation Meeting, Helen McCookeryBook and Asbo Derek, but I was assured by friends there that they all smashed their sets. Of course they did, Attila booked them.
Meow Meows finished the night off with their joyous swing dominant ska sounds and I wandered up the hill to bed with a smile, a pint of very strong ale and an overwhelming sense of being home.
The perfectly sunny Saturday morning’s soundtrack starts with the orchestra of skylarks around the campsite, occasionally broken by the equally sunny sound of Wob rounding people up for his morning acoustic show in the food barn. Like a kid from Hamlyn, I followed, grabbed some breakfast from Simply Veg – a superb veggie/vegan Indian street food stall that has attended the event for years now, and got well and truly Wobbed. For anyone who hasn’t experienced this phenomenon, imagine an energy pill with no side effects wrapped in dinosaurs and bubbles.
By noon, the main barn is open, the beer starts flowing and the day’s entertainment begins with the unmissable climate change cabaret that is Fossilheads, who did what they do best despite Rosie forgetting her costume. It was hot anyway, as was their show, which was the perfect build up to the angry not-so-young thing that is Laura Taylor, a less than elegant and totally excellent spoken word performer who somehow gets away with telling her fully engaged audience to “f*ck off” and gets applauded for it.
Barnstormer 1649, fronted by Glastonwick’s own Attila and his array of lesser implemented instruments, are up next smashing out their delicious renaissance punk vibes along with some hefty Digger singalongs, and then I’m blindsided by a young person with a ukulele who is not only ludicrously aware of the state of the world but bangs out clever songs about it. Thanks for a succulent splash of hope, Isaac Hughes Dennis.
Hags! I love Hagar The Womb, and was surprised that this was their first ever Glastonwick. Smashed it they did, sit still I did not, so David Rovics, accompanied by Kamala Emanuel’s stunning vocals, provided the perfect rest after.
Crucible were up next, and having not actually read the programme at that point, they had the vibe of a load of old mates who used to be in a band coming together for old time’s sake. Turns out they were Chris Payne’s (Visage/Gary Numan) first band from the 70s.
In the very small hours at ‘Bearded Theory’ the weekend before Glastonwick, a small group of us had been sat in a caravan singing along to recordings of ‘Anti-Gravity Cat’, ‘Posh Munters On Ket’ and ‘I Hate Babies’ by the totally inimitable Captain Hotknives, then there I was watching him perform them live. Nice one, Chris, that was out of the park, mate.
The Monochrome Set then fed us a healthy portion of new wave before Carol Hodge mesmerised us as only she can. Too Many Crooks took the pace back up to the roof with some seriously banging ska before Eddie And The Hotrods rock punked the rammed barn through to last orders.
Sunday morning saw more beer barrels with ‘sold out’ written on them than not, and there were plenty of us doing our duty to change that. I had a walk up on the Downs first before Calum Baird opened the stage in full on troubadour style followed by the gentle Bee And Jackrabbit, singing cello et al. Both acts were the ideal way to warm into Sunday and ready us for the gorgeous wake up call of ‘Alcohol Licks’ and their rhythmic punk vibes. The irony of Sam spilling a drink wasn’t lost either.
Mark Thomas has long been one of my favourite brains to hear speak and he was right on form, as was John Otway after him, along with some Attila accompaniment. The hilarity of the sample button pressing will likely sit in my memory for time.
The weekend ended with Millie Manders And The Shut Up doing their high energy thing before an impressive amount of us die hards staggered onto the bus to hit the aftershow at The Duke of Wellington in Shoreham, which I know featured Bethan and Paul of Pog, but past giving Mel’s feet a massage and there being jugs of ale, my recall is a bit, erm, blurred.
Hats off Glastonwick. My favourite event with its safe and sound ethos, decent politics, superb entertainment, on it crew, lovely people and excellently kept beer just gets better every year.
It’s like being at one of my own events, but without the graft. Here’s to the next one. I might even try and fit a tractor ride in. See you there x
