Festival Fever

Well what a summer it's been with all the festivals, eh? Glasto, Reading, Leeds, V and all the others. It's the new "going to Spain for your hols". And I've seen most of it. Of course I haven't been. Just sat their in the chair with a brew and the red button. Great stuff.

Come Glastonbury and come all the discussions. "You go out last night?"

"Nah stayed in and watched Glastonbury"

And quite right as well. I was in the queue in Tesco listening to two middle-aged women discussing Neil Diamond at Glastonbury. I thought how ridiculous until I realised that I, as a middle-aged man, had spent a Sunday afternoon in front of the telly watching it. In fact with the BBC's red button I was flicking from Pyramid Stage to Main Stage and back to the studio area where I was shouting at the amateur talents of the likes of Lauren Laverne and Jo Whiley.

My phone was buzzing with texts: "Are you watching Verve? Fucking superb." I was and they were and then I watched highlights and shite and never once needed a pair of wellingtons.

Then there is somebody a bit good in the dance tent and the phone's going again and it's two in the morning and you retire your tent exhausted. Up next day - back on the red button, shouting at the presenters and revelling at the odd decent band. And after Glastonbury it's the other festivals. Never as good but still worth watching. Too old for actually going there - well apart from the Cambridge Folk Festival, maybe - but still loving and hating the music in equal measures. Still discussing and arguing like we did when we were teenagers and twentysomethings. Wondering whether Morrissey really is as fat in real life as he looks at Wireless and checking out the foxy posh birds in the audience.

Roll on next summer…