You'll probably spend most of your first twenty-four hours trying to get your bearings; zillions of stages, thousands of acts, trails and tracks that never seem to take you where you want to go. Maybe you'll even study the line-up, try to figure out an itinerary - who to see, when and where - but you'll soon find there's not much point. That smart comic you've heard whispers about clashes with the NME's latest fancy. Some obscure DJ is playing a storming set in the overcrowded and way too hot Dance tent which you've just stopped at for five minutes on your way to get something to eat. Or maybe you'll be distracted by one of the 300 stalls that feed the hungry, clothe the needy and cater to those who want to party all night long.
So you decide to relax and wander aimlessly, making up your own festival as you go. Because, as you eventually realize, there is enough entertainment available at the Glastonbury Festival Of The Performing Arts to satisfy nearly every basic, childish urge - except the desire to take a crap in comfort. It would take a week to see everything and even then you might miss the didgereedoo players and the glassy-eyed mystics who gather round after dark.
WE WANT THE WORLD AND WE WANT IT NOW
There is an air of 1967 about all this, of course. But however much you may want the dirty hippies with their sorry hairstyles and disgusting patchouli oil to disappear into one of the foul toilets, you are constantly reminded of the battles they have fought and won lately. A Europe-wide campaign by Greenpeace - the Festival's main beneficiary - just last week forced Shell into abandoning plans to sink the oil platform, Brent Spar, into the North Sea. And various animal rights groups were still celebrating their successful campaign to tighten EU restrictions on the live transport of veal calves to the continent. Just as the Festival has become a cultural event deemed important enough to be broadcast live on radio and TV, these scruffy youth, determined to change the world, now have a voice loud enough to make government sit up and take notice.
They gathered in the Green Futures field where their alternative strategies included making Glasto 95 the first ever wired festival. RainbowNet Technologies opened a cybercafe for the weekend, housing 10 PCs hooked into the Net via an ISDN line they forced BT to install at a cost of 37,000 pounds. The Way Collective used the festival as an opportunity to test out the mobile comms they will take around the European Festival circuit on their wired but uninsured bus. While another group of mad visionaries were wondering around with a QuickTake, gathering material for their impressive looking 25th anniversary CD-ROM, which they are determined will be available in time for Xmas. All together there were three Glastonbury Web sites, updated daily from the middle of an English farm, miles from anywhere (http://www.glastonbury.org/).
[At this point you might wonder why your trusty ATN correspondent didn't post hourly reports from the site. Indeed, you'd be right to ask. The simple fact is that the Way Collective who had agreed to let us use their gear couldn't be found for 24 hours, despite directions being followed to the letter. Glasto is BIG. When they were eventually tracked down, the power died.]
TOMORROW BELONGS TO PULP
Finally, almost as an afterthought, you might decide to catch some music. As has been well documented, the Stone Roses had pulled out, but they conveniently left the stage set for Oasis to repeat their festival stealing performance of last year. Now, it may be customary for people to spend the whole weekend without seeing a single band; this time around it felt like all 120,000 plus (there'd been some gate-crashers) were packed in a horrible crush around the one stage to watch, "The Best Band In Britain At The Moment." They could have delivered one of the killer performances of all time. They should have. But the incendiaries of last year failed to materialize.
They opened with an instrumental. Liam strutted across the stage like he finally owned it. Noel, wearing a duffel coat he might regret in later life, concentrated on his guitar and the new rhythm section kicked in like it should. Then, nothing. Someone threw a can that (nearly) hit Liam. He threatened them. Even that failed to bring on the fireworks. Ropey sound, but then it always is at festivals. The new single had another bloody great melody, but it was no great departure. The lyrics were as dismal as ever - on one new song Noel even claimed to be nothing more than a "rock n roll kinda guy." Maybe it's time they really started to stretch themselves. Hugely disappointing. Apparently Prodigy, playing at the same time on the NME stage, touched the sky.
The Battle To See Portishead was even tougher than that which had been fought over Oasis; Evan Dando was a casualty but the spoils were richer. The clawing and shoving began at the bottom of a hill, on top of which was perched, precariously, five hundred yards ahead, the Acoustic Stage. At a capacity of, maybe, 2,000, it was way too small for the huge numbers of trip-hoppers hell-bent on hearing Beth Gibbon's voice glide on the night air. This was the promoter's big mistake of the weekend, and to compound the problem of confining too many people in a hot, sweaty space they delayed Portishead's appearance to allow Evan Dando to make up for his earlier temperamental no-show. The crowd were not pleased. Dando made a brave fight of it but he was hugely outnumbered and beat a hasty retreat.
Finally, after a delay lasting an hour and a half, Portishead took the stage. They play a blues that seems to encapsulate the history of pop, stripped down to a simple scaffold on which is hung, That Voice. There were some great moments; the deep, emotional climax to "Sour Times," when Gibbons reached inside herself and tore out a scream from somewhere you don't want to go; there were also times when Adrian Uttley's guitar sounded like the whole John Barry Orchestra. But they were only just getting into it when they were forced to go off. Still, there was enough to savour. Meantime, Pulp, fresh from landing a hugely deserved number two single with "Common People," and playing instead of the Stone Roses, were becoming the hit of the weekend. Jarvis was chatty and took the piss. Everyone talked about nothing else in the bar.
Other good stuff included Supergrass, whose abrasive pop says they should soon follow the indie path that currently leads straight to the top of the British charts. Drugstore - who you might imagine better off in some smoky nightclub where the Mary Chain and Mazzy Star have the best tables - gave notice they might have more potential than anyone realized. Page and Plant have thrown off a lot of the rustiness evident on Unplugged - Plant almost hits the high notes and Page has come into a promising run of form - but their truncated set was a bit heavy on the slow ones. Then again, "Kashmir" was awesome. And on the blazing Sunday afternoon, The Verve played a triumphant set. Their languid, meandering guitars, drifting beats and soaring vocals were perfect for the sunned-out crowd.
TWENTY-FOUR HOUR PARTY ANIMAL
It is after the 2 AM curfew when everything "official" had shut down that the Glastonbury party really begins. Sound systems appear and the buzzed-up, blissed-out crowd dance to an alien techno sound that never dips below 120 bpm and goes right on 'til morning. The records and the DJs are almost interchangeable but the only difficulty that presents is to record companies who find it difficult to market a brandless product. The DJs play with the crowd, taking them up, then breaking the beat down. They provide a persistent, driving rhythm that heralds the future, and they, who party on for 24 hours a day, are the true heroes of Glastonbury. You should have been there.
Photos by Stuart Green and Intuitive Interactive; special thanks to Intuitive Interactive for lending us the QuickTake.
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![[Making Waves]](http://web.archive.org/web/199510/http://www.iuma.com/ATN/images/Making_Waves/Making_Waves.jpg)
In addition to the 150+ bands performing on 21 stages stretching from Justin Herman Plaza up Market street, there were also a number of dance parties, drum circles, and even a "Global Village" satellite link with other cities around the world. The kicker was that it was all free - what better way to get into the summer season than free music on those same streets generally associated with going to work, begging or being begged from, or even fearing for your safety! This Wednesday may have been the only one in the year which found cars parked on the sidewalk, loaded full of thousands of dollars worth of musical equipment, safe and sound from thieves and parking tickets.
Crowd response was refreshingly strong from block to block, with those who had to return from their extended lunch hours replaced with an entire new teaming throng of passers by, bicycle messengers stopping for a brief listen, and trolleys packed with people. Many bands took the opportunity to play (for which there was no payment) as an opportunity to expose their music to a new audience and plug their other upcoming shows, not to mention sell some merchandise.
| Time | Size | Time | Size |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2:14 | 9.5MB | 1:55 | 7.6MB |
Included in this report are some video clips captured by secret undercover roving videotographers which can give you a real feel for the environment and mood that was present throughout the day. The files a huge, but our encoding staff couldn't bring themselves to condense the footage of The Mermen and The Mudkats to below 2 minutes - we think you'll find the wait well worth it! Other notable participants in the festival include Clubfoot Orchestra, The Gospel Accordian to Women, Walter "Ogi" Johnson, Undercover Ska, Rankin' Scroo & Ginger, and Shaka Ra & the World Pop Machine.
Of the bands glimpsed in the program who have information online, we noticed the following:
Mermen
The Mudkats
The Grain
Club Foot Orchestra
as well as the Teutonic Techno Temple
this has included a blatant plug for two of my fave bands, one of which i'm a member.
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We have learned that after telling the crowd at the Polo Field in San Francisco that he was sick, Vedder apparently left in an ambulance, spending the remainder of the afternoon being treated for dehydration resulting from the stomach flu at a San Francisco hospital; he was released later that day.
Although the group performed Pearl Jam songs for only 27 minutes, they had initially decided not to offer any refunds to disgruntled fans. "I know many of you were hoping to see Eddie longer," read a statement from the group's publicist, Nicole Vanderberg, "but the fact remains that the show was not canceled, therefore no refunds will be given."
This seemed like utter hypocrisy on the part of a band that supposedly identifies strongly with its fans. In fact, it seemed like the kind of corporate bullshit that they have a reputation for abhorring (posters sold for $19.95 at the concert Saturday bore the phrase "sponsored by no one"). The 50,000 people who attended the show paid slightly less than $25 each to see a Pearl Jam performance; Pearl Jam sets typically last an hour and a half, not 27 minutes.
It was obvious that most of the people at the Polo Field were not Neil Young fans, and while Young, backed by four members of Pearl Jam performed a rather amazing Neil Young set, the show became a clear example of non-truth in advertising. From conversations ATN had with teenage fans at the show, they were not happy with the substitution. Many felt that Young was someone their parents used to listen to; they had paid a lot of money to see a Pearl Jam concert.
The members of Pearl Jam, of all people, should have appreciated that their fans wanted to see them, performing Pearl Jam songs. Finally, three days after the event, after letting the world know yesterday that there would be no refunds to the San Francisco show, they changed their minds again. We applaud this decision, and hope that the group will return to San Francisco when Eddie is healthy and do another show.
If you attended the San Francisco show and want your money back (and everyone who appreciated Neil Young's set is a hypocrite if they go for a refund), mail your ticket stubs along with your name, mailing address and phone number to: PJ Refunds--San Francisco, P.O. Box 188149, Carlsbad, CA 92009. If you don't have your ticket stubs, send in a postcard with the name that was printed on your tickets, along with the mailing address where the tickets were sent and a phone number; that info will be checked against the ETM database. If you purchased your tickets on June 22 at Shoreline Amphitheater, the Oakland Coliseum of the Warfield Theater, or at Golden Gate Park the day of the show, you will need your ticket stubs to get a refund.
Despite this latest development, it is the opinion of ATN that something is very wrong. The Pearl Jam decision-making process is falling victim to an emotional roller coaster. Flip-flopping on whether to continue to fight TicketMaster or cave in, on whether to make-up the San Francisco date or not, offer refunds for that show or not, complete all (or at least some) of the remaining tour dates, or cancel the tour demonstrates an indecisiveness and emotional instability that we've never seen before on the part of this great band. Just as bad, sending out vague press releases that attempt to rationalize these illogical decisions just compounds the problem.
We hope cooler heads will prevail, and that Pearl Jam will get back on track. This is one of the best, and most important bands of the '90s, and we want to see them continuing to do the great work they started with Ten. Come on guys, get it together!
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Buying an established star is nothing new for David Geffen. The genius entertainment mogul started Geffen Records' roster by signing up the late John Lennon, Elton John and other established stars. As time went on, the roster included Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Ricki Lee Jones, Peter Gabriel, Don Henley, Robbie Robertson and Aerosmith. But Geffen also had his A & R team seek out unproven acts. Some of those that turned into major successes: Nirvana, Guns 'N Roses, Veruca Salt, Beck, Weezer, Counting Crows and Hole. It will be interesting to see what other big stars are signed to DreamWorks, but keep your eye on the street. Chances are that before long some of the best new talent will find a home at DreamWorks too.
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