Glastonbury Festival has been my spiritual home for a decade now, and judging by the blisteringly fast ticket sellouts months before the lineup drops, I’m definitely not alone in that obsession. This year marked my 10th consecutive Glasto, and after all those dusty miles and sweaty crowds, what keeps me coming back? Sure, you could binge-watch the BBC highlights from …
The time-honoured adage “All good things must come to an end” never rings truer this morning. After three days of maelstromic metal mayhem at Rockharz we have awoken, somewhat blearily eyed, on the fourth and final morning.
As the dust slowly settles and the festivalgoers return to the brutal reality of waiting another year for a musical feast on the Pilton farm,
My wristband has been collected and I am walking towards The Sophie Lancaster Stage. The feelings of nostalgia began instantly as I heard Basment Torture Killings pounding from the stage.
The last two years were like a bad dream. What was unthinkable suddenly became the new normal, and phrases like lockdown, quarantine, and keep the distance were our new reality. The world was slowly waking up from this nightmare, and some smaller and bigger events were trialled last summer, but for me, it didn’t feel right without Glastonbury Festival. So …
Festival season for the last couple of years has been disappointing if you are a metal fan in the UK. This year we were all on tenterhooks and waiting on bated breath.