Glastonbury 2009: The Magical Dance of the Sprinter

Ahh. Is there anything more satisfying than driving onto a festival site on a glorious British summer morning? Surely that feeling, coupled with the foresight of 7 days of frivolities ahead, would plant a grin on the faces of even the most melancholie folk. Yes! I have been fortunate enough to attend Glastonbury music festival many times before however this year was to be very different.

This was my first year working at a stage in Shangri-La.

I wondered how it would compare to volunteer work or going as a punter?

In any line of work at a festival I imagine that there is a feeling of unity that bonds us all together and leaves you with a real feeling of belonging. I felt this as soon as we arrived and throughout the week. This bond seemed heightened by the knowledge that inevitably something is going to go wrong but everyone has each others back (and failing that everyone has gaffer and cable ties).

After navigating our way through to our big top it was time to start dragging flight cases, monitors, back line, racks, let alone the powered system down to the stage whilst moaning, unnecessarily, about the lighting crew. The jokes begin and we are all in good form because, well, we’re at Glastonbury and it doesn’t get much better than this.

Then it rains.

Suddenly the magical dance of the sprinter seems less hilarious and the mad rush to wedge chipboard under the tyres of every sinking van leaves you feeling damp and muddy. Why on earth did I leave my wellies at the back of the trailer?

It’s a times like this that we all turn to our vices to keep going. My vice is tea (one sugar) and that’s all it took for us to get the system up and running and ready for the following days checks. That’s it, we’re all set, time for the whisky (oh yeah, my other vice).

The work was hard but great fun. We had a lot of band switch overs. We lost a good few xlr cables. We had the usual little issues from instrument failures to rather inebriated artists. The nights were spent working, the days were a mix of sleep and seeing other stages. Sun followed rain, vodka followed whisky. Alex and I slept in the back of his darling van (Dwain). We made new friends and hung out with old ones. Bands were on from Thursday til Sunday (from 10pm til 6am). We worked hard (Alex worked harder). We played hard. We ate like kings and danced like queens. We saw some truly amazing sights through Shangri-La, Arcadia, Trash City. We met some legends, some stars and some interesting (hmmm) folk. I dreamt of becoming a gypsy and running off with a band (check out Blackberry Wood). All in all ee remembered just how amazing Glastonbury is.

Then we lost power.

It was raining. The lighting boys (grrr) had left a socket open to the elements. We had put the DJ decks on the lighting circuit. Frantic panic as Alex took control and blasted reggae from his iPod at a packed tent. Situation remedied. We routed the decks into a different line and, reluctantly, swapped the reggae back for rock’n’roll.

Then we partied.

By Tuesday it was home time. It was hard to believe we’d been there for over a week. Working with the Rocket Lounge crew was truly one of the best times of my life. Bring on Notting Hill Carnival.

You guys rock.

Cheers; Alex, Dave, Gaz, Leo, Rache, Anton, Jason, Phil, the Steward boyz, the Irish lass that kept feeding me, Gypsy Lady, Fraser, Tom, Ann, Dizzy, Hayley…. everyone. x