Sunday night and I'm knackered but I have promised my 13-year-old
son that we WILL stay to see Muse, no matter what.
slog back to the car carrying damp tent, damp sleeping bags,
damp everything, so we can make a quick-ish getaway, and then
we make our way back on site.
feet feel like red hot bricks, I've got sunburnt legs cos
Itook the bottom of my cargo pants off during Joss Stone's
set, and I'm as sober as it's possible for a body to be.
aren't on stage for an hour and a half, so the boy slopes
off to blow the last of his pocket money on a digeridoo and
I walk painfully towards the Jazz Stage to see Bonnie Raitt.
15 minutes late on stage, the field is a mudbath, my feet
hurt and I'm so very very tired.
she comes on stage. And she starts to play... my feet start
to twitch inside my German army para boots.
the end of the third song, I'm dancing in the mud like a 17-year-old
in the Dance Tent on Friday night as the drugs kick in.
hurts anymore, I don't feel the cold, or the wind, or the
hunger or the sunburn.
she starts to play acoustic, my heart melts and I fall in
love. 45 minutes in, I check my watch... it's time to stand
in the crowd to watch Muse.
I drag myself away and as I do so she sings Angel From Montgomery
at my departing back. And I KNOW she's singing it to me.
I want to have your children...