As the dust and faecal matter settles on Glastonbury for another year, we asked those involved in the festival for their perspective on the weekend. In our final dispatch, we hear from Spector lead singer and bespectacled Sugababes wench Fred Macpherson on why he left The Rolling Stones to see The Bootleg Beatles and what Glastonbury is like on the other side of the production wristband checkpoint.
Photo by Sahil Varma
I'm not gonna lie, this year I saw less bands than Tony Iommi can count on one hand. But King Krule should've been seen by a lot more people. I'm sure next year he will be. Him, Solange and Chic were my favourites of the weekend but I didn't really know who was playing until I saw a line-up for the first time at the Harvester on the way back to London.
I caught the beginning of the Rolling Stones but I would have had a better view if I'd downloaded Hyde Park '69 and watched it on an iPhone Sellotaped to the gherkin. But at least being near the back gave me the opportunity to go and see The Bootleg Beatles instead. Despite being better than The non-bootleg Beatles (in that they're actually capable of performing the second half of their career live) they weren't quite as good as they were when I chose them over The Who at Glasto '07. But I got as many laughs in recounting the experience so there you go.
I was camping behind the Park Stage. The backstage area there is a bit like that story of Christmas day during the first world war when the two sides played football for one day then went back to machine gunning each other. A+R's let their hair down for the first time since their other A+R mate's wedding a few years back, serious broadsheet journos mingle with the tabloid legends they've always secretly looked up to and Rizzle Kicks and Hurts have classic cidered-up you're the best/no you're the best convos. The Magners Carter Holy Grail if you will.
I only remembered this yesterday but I met Chris Martin there and he was genuinely lovely. I wish I had a photo to accompany this piece. These days meeting a celeb and failing to get a selfie is more shameful than not meeting a celeb at all but he really was straight up amazing. I used to subscribe to the theory that the more famous someone gets the more adept they get at making random nobodies feel like they care - which might be the case but then they still have to choose to dedicate thirty seconds to acting like they care (most don't) which is good enough for me. I definitely now understand the meaning of the lyric "in my place were lines that I couldn't change."
Next year Spector should have our new record out and hopefully we’ll be playing, but even if we're not I'm gonna be there doing it right. I'm talking £300 hospitality tipi, blow up bed, a replication firearm and enough supplies to take over the whole backstage economy early doors. As soon as you realise it's not about the music you can start to have a good time.
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