A Very Quick Glasto Review

Anyone who has the misfortune of following me on Twitter might have noticed that I spent the weekend in a field in Somerset, drinking too much cider, folk singing with hippies, and getting far too emotional about Britpop stalwart reunions. And it was awesome. So I won't go on about it anymore - once you've finished reading this 'Glastonbury - The Highs And Lows' post, you won't hear any more from me about it. Probably. So, let's get to it.

The 'I'm Actually Feeling Too Shaky To Tweet' Moment

Blur. And specifically, 'For Tomorrow'. That wasn't necessarily the best song of the night, or even the most emotional moment, it was just the point when I realised that I was watching one of the greatest bands of my generation, playing one of their greatest songs, as part of a set that all together soundtracked pretty much every important moment of my youthful life, that I might never get the chance to see them again, that I'd drunk an awful lot of rosé, and that it was all just a little bit too much. Damon, Graham, Alex, Dave - I salute you, and, in all sincerity, I thank you.

The 'This Was Definitely A Mistake' Moment

There weren't too many of these, but thinking that Rolf Harris was a good way to shake off the Saturday morning hangover was a mistake that was unfortunately shared by night on 120,000 other people. Gridlock in the Jazz World arena in 32 degrees heat is probably the closest I've come to death in recent years. And Rolf's incessant cheeriness didn't help. No offence, Rolf, but you can stick your f*ckin' kangaroo down-under. (PS In a weird moment of Adland serendipity, I might just be recording a radio ad with Rolf on Friday, so I can tell him exactly how I feel...)

The 'This Is What Glastonbury's All About Cliché' Moment

Learning an olde-Somerset folk song and dance in the Green Futures field. That's all you need to know.

The 'This Is What I'd Hoped Glastonbury Would Be All About' Moment

Turning cartwheels in the rain in the Jazz World Arena with people I'd just met. Cider is a wonderful thing.

The 'Almost The Best Moment' Moment

Pete Doherty's 'Special Guest' appearance at the Queen's Head. If the swine had bothered to turn up, it would have been amazing. By the finest of margins...

The 'Magical Glastonbury Moment' Moment

The Maccabees, Lego, The Other Stage, the sun coming out, tens of thousands of people cheering as one. On the TV, it probably looked like over-emotive nonsense. It wasn't.

The 'These Guys Are Actually Quite Good' Moment

There were quite a few of these: Lily Allen was a very pleasant surprise; The Wombats made up for Doherty's no-show by being utterly off their faces and utterly, utterly sparkle-shine fantastic; Park Bench Poet trapped me through awkwardness (I was literally the only one listening when they started playing in the Green Fields on Friday night) and then kept me captive with their honesty, warmth and awkward charm - I highly recommend; and finally, Crosby, Stills and Nash, who weren't exactly new to me, I'd just never really given a toss - I probably should have done.

The 'Biggest Let Down' Moment

The Boss. Self-absorbed, self-obsessed, self-consciously 'massive' and Too Sodding Long. I tried, Bruce, I really tried, but you bored the crap out of me.

The 'If My Mum's Mood Swings Were A Band, They'd Sound Like This' Moment

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Sorry, kids, but I just don't get it. If I wanted to listen to an angry woman screaming at me, I'd just forget Mrs ALS's birthday.

The 'Glorious Antidote To All That Bloody Positive Energy' Moment

The transcendent Nick Cave lifted up the Pyramid Stage, span it round, tore it up and vomited it out, all over a breathless, ecstatic crowd. I pray to whatever God he does believe in that this man never cheers up.

The 'Moments And Things That Defy A Pithy Title' Moments

Sleeping in Green Fields; wearing two sets of headphones and dancing like an idiot in the Silent Disco; refusing to believe that MJ had died for a good day and a half - I'd also heard that Girls Aloud were going to appear with Nick Cave, so you can understand my reticence; the aforementioned Cave dedicating a song to "the late... great... wonderful... Farrah Fawcett", which was far and away the cleverest MJ gag I heard all weekend; Madness in general; the lovely chaps who did a reggae version of 'Sgt. Pepper' on Sunday morning; reading the papers at 10am on Sunday, in front of the Pyramid Stage; the hideous workplace flashbacks as a bunch of hippy, brummie bikers decided to try and conduct an impromptu 'meeting' up by the stone circle - they didn't even know what a contact report was; rekindling friendships that had been left, erm, unkindled for far too long; the completely mental Trash City; and a million and one others...

It was awesome. It was unforgettable, especially the bits that I can't remember. Thanks to everyone who helped make it quite so messy - see you all next year.