As early Sunday morning pick-me-ups go at Glastonbury, the sound of Black Dyke at full throttle belting out hits from David Bowie and Status Quo to John Barry, Kurt Weil and Simon Dobson takes some beating.
No wonder Ed Balls, the former Labour Party Shadow Chancellor turned everyone’s favourite ‘Strictly’ comedy Fred Astaire, called the Queensbury band his ‘set of the festival’ for their ‘musical brilliance, passion and delight to be invited’ in his 'experience' article in The Guardian newspaper.
Miasmic cloud
There may be some argument about that from those who rocked to David Grohl and The Foo Fighters on Saturday night, or Ed Sheeran who rounded things off a few hours after the Yorkshire Champion left the stage loudly cheered by an enthusiastic audience - but he certainly had a point.
Prof Childs may not have been quite able to indulge in a bit of Katy Perry crowd-surfing, but he certainly roused a fair amount of interactive energy from the audience as they bopped and sashayed along amid windswept bubbles, spitting rain and the occasional miasmic cloud of spliff smoke.
No wonder Ed Balls, the former Labour Party Shadow Chancellor turned everyone’s favourite ‘Strictly’ comedy Fred Astaire, called the Queensbury band his ‘set of the festival’ for their ‘musical brilliance, passion and delight to be invited’ in his 'experience' article in The Guardian newspaper.
Secret of success
The secret of winning over the Glastonbury faithful - which increasingly looks to be made up of more middle class glampers in their Hunter wellies than bedraggled students in muddy jeans and Crowded House tee-shirts, is to give them stuff they know and like.
So where Radiohead meandered up a cul-de-sac of their own preposterous self-indulgence and Kris Kristofferson simply sent the crowd into state of bewilderment, Black Dyke rolled out the boogie and brass.
Crafty and clever
Big band classics and a touch of Simon Dobson thumping funk, James Bond themes, four-chord Quo and Bowie bombast - all rounded off with a ramped up Bach ‘Toccata in D Minor’ and an encore of early pint of musical Guinness inspired fiddly-higgeldy-piggedly O’irshness.
It was crafty, clever and brilliantly delivered to capture the attention of everyone from hardened old hippies, wannabe rock chicks and bleary eyed early morning risers to a former Labour politician turned media-luvvie.
It was this year’s Glastonbury Festival in a glorious pyramind shaped musical nut shell.
Iwan Fox