“Another poor line-up”. “Not overly impressed to be honest.” “Not impressed.” Yes, it’s the Glastonbury line-up announcement once more and, also once more and some people are up in arms about it. Their Facebook photos rather give the game away: they’re old people; you know, old like me. Soon, mere disappointment will turn into desolation as they come to realise that cutting edge artists like Engelbert Humperdinck, Chris de Burgh and Cliff Richard are not scheduled to appear. This old person is incredibly excited by the line-up and almost – but only almost – wishes he was going.
Mind you, I used to regard every Glastonbury line-up as “poor” until I gave my head a big wobble and came to realise that actually great music didn’t end in the 1970s, although I do accept it never started in the abysmal 80s. Now, I gaze enviously at a line-up that includes some absolute music greats, alongside some of the finest new talent going.
While I shall not be at Worthy Farm this year, or any year for that matter (I need to know where the nearest bathroom is at my age), I cannot wait for the BBC’s exquisite coverage. Neil Young is there, FFS, and so is John ‘Creedence Clearwater Revival’ Fogerty, Weezer, Gary Numan and Nile Rodgers & Chic. But dig deeper and there’s the mighty St Vincent, English Teacher, Loyle Carner, Father John Misty and Self Esteem. If you say to me, “Well, I have never heard of them”, that’s your bad. It’s a bit like being in the 1960s and someone saying, “The Rolling Stones” and you saying, “Who?” Because, and trust me I know, that’s what us old people say. I am not comparing any of today’s acts with the Stones but the same thing applies. If you think today’s music is all shit, it might just be because you haven’t actually listened to it or even tried to.
Glastonbury, or Pilton where the festival actually takes place, has in some people’s eyes become a middle class shit fest and I think there is something in that. But then, you could say the same thing about much of the rest of society. The class divide, which grew massively in the Cameron/May/Johnson/Truss and Sunak era, may take years to correct, if it is ever corrected at all, and that is reflected across society in general. If Glastonbury has become middle class and upper middle class, so have the artists with so many of its biggest names, like Coldplay and Charli XCX hailing from elite private schools. It’s the same all across the arts and in many sports like tennis, cricket and rugby union. It seems to my uneducated eye that the Eavis family has moved heaven and earth to ensure that – oh dear, here comes that word again: gammons look away now – the festival incorporates a diverse group of artists from all backgrounds.
As a late convert to enjoying music from places away from my preferred genres, I actively seek out new music. Had I been the Eclectic Blue of a decade ago, I might not now be gushing about Parcels, Maribou State, Kneecap, Overmono and The Big Moon. I’d be whingeing about the “poor line-up”, complaining that music isn’t as good as it used to be.
But then, I barely know anything that’s in the singles charts these days. Nor should I. That’s where radio stations like Radio 1 come in, for 18-24 year olds. Clearly, I am several generations older than Da Yoot of today. I know my place. That doesn’t make the music I don’t know, and quite possibly don’t understand, is crap.
It’s never too late to like different music. I was in my forties when I discovered dance music while on various family holidays in Ibiza. Having wondered what the fuck House, Trance, Techno and all the rest of the types of dance music actually were, I somehow became a fan. Had I not been so old, even back then, and I could imagine myself leaping about at Privilege or Eden and then winding down at the legendary Café del Mar, which we actually did go to but could only afford two small bottles of San Miguel. Everyone else seemed to be taking tablets, presumably for medicinal purposes, and smoking unusual cigarettes. Very strange, but they all seemed to be happy.
Truthfully, I don’t know what a “poor line-up” or a “good line-up” looks like because in the end music is in the ear of the beholder. I might not like every act that’s playing Download this year but that doesn’t mean that everything on the bill is crap. Far from it, if you ask me, with many of my favourite rock acts are playing it. But hopefully you get the point. You might be mourning the absence of Showaddywaddy and the Rubettes at these festivals – and I am sorry if that’s the case – but your shit is someone else’s good, maybe even great.
Glastonbury 2025 doesn’t have a “poor line-up”. You might not like it, but that’s not enough to make it poor. And if there are acts you have never heard of – and there are plenty I haven’t heard of – then why not take a listen? You might just be pleasantly surprised. If not, you can just head on back to Ken Bruce or any of the myriad of oldie stations which are so popular these days.
I’ll be watching the BBC coverage from the comfort of my living room, enjoying some of the best music from today and yesterday. If I’m not “overly impressed” with something, I’ll find something else. And if I find something else I like, what’s not to love about that?
