Glastonbury Festival - Never Mind Bailey's Cock...

Never Mind Bailey's Cock...

29 Jun 2003

Bill Bailey is my God. He has shown me the way. Last night's performance in the Cabaret tent was an eye-opener beyond belief. Number one, and I'm being incredibly naive here, I didn't know he was such an impressive musician. Plays a mean guitar, y'know. Oh, you did. Sorry. Second, I didn't know someone with such appalling hair could carry it off with such conviction (that hair enables him to play the guitar the way he does). Third and finally, the curiousity that is the Zebra. They're black and white. And they don't fight. The reason? 'Cos they're not very good at it. Bill told me.

I've learned the musical, Mamma Mia, is like being hit over the head with Ikea furniture. It hurts like hell, but you have to admire the workmanship. This makes the most amount of sense as I lose count of the times in the past that I've headbutted my 'Kuntbuckit' occasional table. The pain is intense but the dovetails are second to none.

Finishing up, we are blessed with a tribute to Phil Collins entitled, imaginitively enough, Midnight At Parliament Square. I finally understand the delicate intracies of the love song format and it's myriad variations and subtle nuances. A love song should be written in the style of Slayer. With overdrive and wah-wah pedals.

Bailey nearly trashes his kit at the end of the set to a standing ovation that would please the Stones. To Michael Bolton I say; he might still be hanging on to your old hair but his love songs beat the crap out of yours. And then wee all over them too...

Stalker is working on adding another restraining order to his collection...

Never Mind Bailey's Cock...

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