Glastonbury review: There goes My Hero

ELTON JOHN brought down the curtain on a sun-baked Glastonbury Festival with his last ever concert in the United Kingdom as the Sunday night headliner on Pyramid Stage. 

The legendary 76-year-old self-styled Rocketman launched his set with Pinball Wizard. 

But, pretty soon, he was onto the tear-jerkers Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues, my own personal favourite - before further emotional performances of Someone Saved My Life Tonight, Your Song, and Candle in the Wind. 

Then the party got started as Tiny Dancer, Don't Go Breaking My Heart, Crocodile Rock, Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting and I'm Still Standing came in quick succession. 

Guests included Brandon Flowers of The Killers for Tiny Dancer - but absolutely no one would have guessed his other invitees:

▪️ the London Community Gospel Choir for Are You Ready For Love and Sad Songs (Say So Much)

▪️ TikTok star Stephen Sanchez for Until I Found You

▪️ Japanese singer Rina Sawayama for Don't Go Breaking My Heart 

Elton finished his set by dedicating Don't Let The Sun Go Down on Me to his late fellow performer George Michael before leaving the stage after Rocket Man. Strangely, though, there was no encore. 

Earlier, the Pyramid stage opened on Saturday and Sunday with impressive stuff from Rick Astley and the Dixie Chicks respectively. 

Entertaining and self-effacing Astley got the mood right by mixing up his set somewhat with covers of Harry Styles's As It Was and, rather unexpectedly, Highway To Hell by AC/DC. 

Astley finished, of course, with a sing-a-long of Never Gonna Let You Down with the whole of the crowd. 

Elsewhere, the Other Stage also presented strong performances from the likes of The Hives and Lightning Seeds back-to-back early on Friday, and Generation Sex and Manic Street Preachers on Saturday. 

In particular, Generation Sex were a great throwback to height of punk rock as Billy Idol was joined by former Sex Pistols, Steve Jones and Paul Cook, to alternate between the most famous hits from Generation X and the Pistols. 

Idol finished with the brilliant version of My Way from the latter - and delivered a typically energetic performance despite somehow having to style it out in a leather jacket in the sweltering heat. 

Of course, any good Glastonbury visit goes beyond Pyramid and Other with options available on over 100 stages, big and small - and smaller. 

Steve Earle delighted on the Acoustic Stage with the proper version of Galway Girl while Richard Thompson of 1970s folk revivalists Fairport Convention slowed everything down there on a sweltering Saturday. 

The eclectic sounds of Congolese groovers Kanga Bongo Man really got feet moving in front of the West Holts stage, while Sparks provided another perfect throwback on The Park. 

Arcadia and Silver Hayes remain the prime late night area for dance music enthusiasts - and the giant fire-spewing spider Arcadia delivered great visuals even for more casual listeners to the genre. 

Elsewhere, South African a capella quintet The Joy provided much joy to the Rabbit Hole on Friday night - but the main action into the early hours still comes from the south east corner. 

On Sunday night, my close friend Jonathan, his amiable work shift partner Tom, and another friend Chris all ambled along the Old Railway Path in a successful attempt to keep the Festival going as long as possible. 

The sights of the south east corner were as eye-opening as ever with personal highlights being The Unfairground and The Temple, a Colosseum-style rave venue. 

Additionally, bizarre space rockers Henge performed an entertaining set on the Truth Stage before the final journey back to the tent at 5am on Monday was pleasantly interrupted by the New York Brass Band on the Rocket Lounge. 

As if we could end up anywhere else... 

🔼

Back to the headliners on Pyramid - and the peaceful efforts of Yusuf/Cat Stevens somehow kept the ominous storm clouds away from delivering a downpour before Blondie stepped things up from opener One Way Or Another onwards. 

It was generally agreed, though, that Elton John provided the best big stage entertainment - while Arctic Monkeys on Friday night had been a major disappointment. 

Now, it is quite obvious that Alex Turner's group have undergone a significant style change since their debut album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not. 

But there is absolutely no way that the frontman should be crooning away to old classics like Mardy Bum as well. It just doesn't work. 

Conversely, Guns N Roses on Saturday played in a far more orthodox hard-rock fashion - and, as such, will have pleased their hardcore fanbase.

The appearance of Dave Grohl during their closer Paradise City was a glorious way to finish - but the set, as a whole, lacked the wider connection to the crowd enjoyed by the Rocketman. 

Grohl, however, had already himself become the central figure of this edition of the Festival, as the worst-kept secret in Glastonbury history - the made-up band the Churn-Ups - were indeed revealed to be the Foo Fighters. 

Despite the lack of surprise, the one-hour set on Friday evening was the highlight of my seventh visit to Worthy Farm as the Foos were left simply no room for filler. 

Opening with All My Life, Grohl expertly navigated his way through the set via outright classics Learn To Fly, The Pretender, My Hero, Best Of You, and Everlong. 

The slower version of My Hero was the absolute height of my Festival - and for a very personal reason. 

Now, this edition of the Glastonbury was always going to be a pretty special one for me - having not been since 2017, I was desperate to go in what is my 40th year. 

Excitingly, in the ballot last October, I got a ticket - or, more accurately, I was part of a WhatsApp group all trying for tickets, of whom one man was successful for the rest of us. Thanks, Kieran. 

Thereafter, Jonathan worked out a route of six trains for me from my home town of Blaydon in Tyneside all the way to Bristol Temple Meads, via Hexham, Carlisle, Wigan North West, Birmingham New Street, and Cheltenham Spa. 

Remarkably, it worked out almost without a hitch except for an unscheduled change at Preston where my train from Carlisle abruptly terminated. Simply, though, I just had to board the service to Birmingham one stop early. 

In Bristol, I was offered an overnight flat by another lad Shing and stayed there with his mate Coops before catching the coach to the Festival on Thursday morning. 

With my beer and snacks brought onto site in ever-faithful John's campervan, it was all set up perfectly. In truth, though, a shadow hung over the whole journey. 

In March, a new reality had intervened after my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer and renal failure, for which he needed dialysis to keep him alive. 

Then, on the very eve of the Festival, the hospital consultant advised that, due to the extent of the cancer, the dialysis was no longer effective. 

Devastatingly, my dad now had no further treatment available to him - and, suddenly, doubts inevitably crept in about the trip altogether. 

With the goodwill of my parents, I decided still to go but my thoughts were never far away from my dad. 

The lyrics by the Foo Fighters in My Hero read:

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary 

The tears flowed. Of course, the tears flowed - those lyrics spoke so close to me. 

My dad has never come across as being, or wanting to be, any more than an ordinary bloke living a quiet life, working hard and raising a family. He has deserved a far more fruitful retirement. 

At the same time, my dad has actually always been My Hero - and, after the toughest few months of my life, I will be very soon watching him as he goes.

That moment at Glastonbury was like no other. Already this has been a year like no other. 

Glastonbury 2017: A Worthy return

THE TRUE measure of a successful visit to Glastonbury Festival is often in the memories which abide, as much as in the experience itself.

So, in that case, Glastonbury 2017 was and still is a glorious triumph.

Even now, more than a week since it started, little moments fill the vacant boredom of everyday life and the corners of my mouth involuntarily curl up at the edge. My eyes dazzle excitedly and I catch myself smiling.

Right from the start, though, I knew this was going to be a special Glastonbury for me.

It was, after all, my first visit for four years - and so, when I eventually arrived on site, late on Thursday, I immediately collapsed to the turf in the manner of a Wimbledon champion who had just landed a winning forehand on championship point.

Time to explore - although, to be totally honest, Thursday night was a little stop-start for me and my companions as we consistently found ourselves in the unfortunate position of greeting the end of a set.

Perhaps it was inevitable that we would end up down a Rabbit Hole that night.

On Friday, we found better form as Chryssie Hynde and the Pretenders opened the Other Stage before we hot-footed it to West Holts for the Hot 8 Brass Band and a taste of festival-strength Brothers Cider.

Liverpool band Circa Waves then infused a summery burst of indie-pop as I clambered on the shoulders of a mate for their set-closer T-Shirt Weather.

"It's gonna be okay" affirmed lead vocalist Kieran Shudall as the band around him played out. Already, though, I knew it was going to be much better than that...

Next for me came the highly-rated Brighton-based Royal Blood and a first proper visit of the year to the Pyramid. Gladly, it can be reported that it was not a disappointment.

Indeed, there must have been few noisier sets of the weekend as duo Mike Kerr and Ben Thatcher celebrated their album How Did We Get So Dark? going to number one by clanging champagne bottles together. The little monsters.

George Ezra did nothing to slow the pace by opening his Other Stage appearance with Cassy O before he strummed his way through a genuinely classy set to Budapest.

Sophie Ellis-Bextor then enticed the Avalon, indulging in a costume change while reminding her audience of her array of hits from the turn of the millennium.

And so, onto the first of the headliners - and Radiohead on Pyramid, 20 years on from the release of OK Computer.

Undoubtedly there was a buzz around the crowd - but, unfortunately for the more casual observer like myself, Thom Yorke had back-filled his set and my thoughts soon began to wander elsewhere.

In the Park, those thoughts found their home, as Wayne Coyne and the Flaming Lips reproduced exactly the sort of bizarre performance which first appealed to me back in 2010.

There is a gentle beauty among all the bizarreness, though - and the cover of David Bowie's Space Oddity was an outstandingly lovely touch before a becalmed crowd faded into the night to the words of Do You Realize??

Saturday already had a lot to live up to meet those opening standards.

Nevertheless, the day got off to a grand start as, on Pyramid, the Bootleg Beatles, marching suits and all, reincarnated Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band on its 50th anniversary.

The Brass Funkeys entertainingly opened up the Avalon tent and kept spirits high amid the drizzle with a cover of One Step Beyond and a blast of the Bear Necessities.

And Jools Holland then brought on a whole array of guests during his set on Pyramid including his old mucker Chris Difford of Squeeze for a rendition of Cool For Cats.

Clearly, though, the afternoon belonged to Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn.

Drawing one of the biggest audiences of the weekend, Mr Corbyn's 14-minute speech on Pyramid was, in many ways, largely preaching to a converted choir.

However, in a week in which the Conservatives cheered the retention of a 1% cap on public sector wage growth in the House of Commons, Mr Corbyn's words will still have resonated well beyond the most hardcore of his supporters, and so his battle goes on.

Back to the music - and Saturday evening was a tale of two Katys, as KT Tunstall rolled back the years on the Acoustic stage before pop star-extraordinaire Katy Perry lit up the Pyramid.

The Avalanches provided more nostalgia on West Holts ahead of the Foo Fighters taking to the Pyramid stage.

Cruelly denied the top slot in 2015 when injury forced Dave Grohl to pull out, the Foos made up for lost time by starting with Times Like These and All My Life.

My Hero was dedicated to a naked fan in the audience and, as the set drew to its close, it reached its climax when Monkey Wrench and Best of You came in quick succession.

I think it would be fair to say that we did, indeed, see the best of the Foo Fighters who were on top form throughout - and it set me up for a night which felt at the time it as if it would last forever but now feels as if it was gone in a flash.

At least I know the night finished with people in a packed Silent Disco blasting out Bohemian Rhapsody to each other, and then it literally dawned upon me.

Dawn arrived, the sky was no longer dark - and yet I had not been to bed. Forgive me then for my later start on Sunday...

The final day of the festival began at Other as the Boston-based Dropkick Murphys paid testament to their celtic roots, ahead of a much-anticipated appearance by Rag'n'Bone Man.

Rag'n'Bone was clearly nervous during his set and he even admitted as much - but, thankfully, his voice remained as strong as ever, as he picked his way through the hits from his Human album.

Now, up until this point, the weather had been warm. There had been a little rain on Saturday morning but not enough for the ground to break up. However, for much of the time, the skies had been filled with a leaden cloud-cover.

Perhaps then even the weather knew it was party time on Pyramid as Barry Gibb brought some Saturday Night Fever to Sunday afternoon.

He was followed swiftly by Chic feat Nile Rodgers who brought the whole arena to its feet in a set which included all the hits and covers of Daft Punk and, again, Bowie.

It is difficult to put in words just how brilliant those three hours of disco under clear blue skies and a baking hot sun were - but, as the BeeGee sang, words are all I have.

Following all the dancing and singing, it was time to tone it down a bit - though only via another sing-a-long to the Bootleg Beatles' closer Hey Jude on Acoustic - and we made our way to the Circus Fields.

There, in the Big Top, we watched the stupidly entertaining Flying Dutchmen jugglers on unicycles.

And then the Occam's Razor acrobatics quintet dazzled my mind as a performance featuring huge metal poles played with at all sorts of different angles, the weight and timing of each move being key.

By this time, it was Ed Sheeran's turn to headline Pyramid, only six years after his appearance on the BBC Introducing Stage in 2011.

In fairness to Sheeran, we knew pretty much every number he played in his first hour - but, as this was the last night of Glastonbury for over 700 days, we wanted a big party in which to dance.

Mr Bombastic himself Shaggy - at the Gully Stage in the Silver Hayes area - duly obliged as he sailed through his tunes. Remember, though, it wasn't him...

At that point, all that was left was a final wander around the site, taking in the ever-magnificent Arcadia and ambling into the Bimble Inn for the raga-infused celtic sound of Delhi to Dublin.

One last boogie there and another in the Glade at around 3am on Monday morning just about finished us off as we headed back to our tents to put this festival to bed.

It had been an unbelievable few days, a festival which will not be easily forgotten in a long time.

But that period in the sunshine on Sunday afternoon was a particular highlight so, to conclude this write-up, I will lean upon the words of Bowie which featured on the 2016 Glastonbury t-shirts:

Oh, to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon
To paint that love upon a white balloon...

The Sun Machine is Coming Down, and We're Gonna Have a Party