Review: Glastonbury 2023 – ‘Wonderful, unique and utterly chaotic’

Let’s be honest, we’re not built to be able to deal with this much choice and it takes a while to adjust to the wondrous bounty Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts has to offer.

It’s easy to find yourself second guessing your Thursday plans, furiously studying the programme app, attention span diminishing as decisions are questioned almost as soon as you’ve arrived somewhere, dashing between stages in a frenzy of over consumption.

The highlight of our Thursday night probably came from the last thing we saw as Flowdan and Bristol’s own Grove team up on vocal duty on the Truth stage with fellow Bristolian band Snazzback.

While Flowdan is one of bass music’s most distinctive voices of the last two decades, the booming, menace drenched vocals we know from his extensive back catalogue don’t quite translate here and it’s the diminutive Grove who stole the show.

It was the opposite of their high energy, mosh pit spawning performance the last time we saw them at Bristol24/7’s party at Ashton Court Mansion earlier in the year, here an effortless and relaxed performance over Snazzbacks unusual blend of hip hop, jazz and afrobeat gave the feel of a live jam.

Grove at Truth stage – photo: Natalie Sayers

By Friday we’ve got into the swing of things properly. Plan made and Glastonbury geography returning we start the day in Silver Hayes, an area now managed by Team Love, the Bristol Team behind Love Saves the Day and Forwards Festival. They’ve made some big changes to the area. The Blues stage has sadly disappeared along with Sonic which have been replaced by Firmly Rooted and the impressive Levels, moves apparently intended to induce some of the late night crowd away from the south east ‘naughty’ corner to share the load.

But early on there’s a Bristol-heavy dub line up at Firmly Rooted including Dubkasm, Ishmael Ensemble and Queen Bee, a comforting blanket of bass the perfect way to ease back into the swing of things. London’s Rupture followed by a whole host of jungle stalwarts celebrating 30 years of Brian Gee’s V Recordings label get the energy levels back up with sets firmly rooted in drum and bass’ early heritage.

A stroll over to the Other stage takes us to an impressive crowd who have assembled for Fred Again who, full of childlike bemusement and wide eyed optimism darts between his keys for dreamy piano parts and furiously fingers-bashing beats on his pads. It’s an emotion-drenched and genre-spanning set that, while occasionally feeling a bit indistinct, doesn’t disappoint his droves of fans.

Rumours that Friday’s headliners, Arctic Monkeys, had been forced to pull out proved unfounded as Alex Turner shrugged off laryngitis and channelled Bowie, clearly enjoying showing off a vocal approach that those only familiar with their early work may have been surprised by. He coolly crooned his way through their more recent, loungy numbers but the energy in the Pyramid stage was clearly subdued, something that wasn’t helped by Turner’s lack of engagement with the crowd that pushed swaggering aloofness into what appeared to be mumbling indifference.

Perhaps headlining for the third time meant that the band felt less pressure to perform all the hits and explore their new loungier style. But they sounded good and eventually did their duty with renditions of Mardy Bum and finally, almost reluctantly, I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor that had the indie faithful happily bouncing and singing along to every word.

The usual late night/early morning shenanigans around Shangri-La, which included a stomping, bass-fuelled Four Tet set on the amazing Iicon stage, meant that the long stomp to and from West Holt for Sudan Archives on Saturday afternoon, when the heat seemed to have reached its peak, was draining but worthwhile. A punk attitude, genre-blurring style and huge stage presence made for a memorable performance.

Moving effortlessly between violin and vocals she creates a sound which is quite unlike anything else, blending styles as distant as folk, rap, pop and R’n’B into something that somehow sounds coherent and current. She gets the crowd to join in with a chant of ‘I’m not average’. She aint.

Four Tet at Iicon- photo: Hannah Ryan

This weary and slightly sunburnt reviewer was feeling distinctly average by this point however, but Mala and Coki on the Levels stage provide the much needed lift to kick start the day again, throbbing sub bass enough to propel me for a ramble around the site, popping into to random venues and taking in the early evening view from Glastonbury-on-Sea, the vaguely familiar sounds of the Pretenders drifting across to us on the breeze.

Guns N’ Roses on the Pyramid stage starts slowly. Axl Rose gives off the impression of one of those Christmas cracker toys that you wind up and set off across the dinner table, all shiny white gnashers and jogging around the stage. That along with his muted vocals and unusually polite interaction with the crowd give the strange impression of watching a somewhat unconvincing cartoon cover band for a while.

But as the classic oldies come out childish nostalgia and overexcitement take over and a four man mosh pit kicks off in an otherwise rather stationary crowd. Not a very forward-looking Saturday headliner but it’s fun and why be whinghing when you get to see Guns N’ Roses before bouncing off into the Glastonbury night, Paradise City aptly ringing in our ears?

Slash shredding on the Pyramid Stage- photo: Hannah Ryan

It’s a relief not to have to make it over to the naughty corner for once as there’s lots of great late night stuff at Silver Hayes, highlights of which include a typically adept pressure building techno set from Helena Hauff at Lonely Hearts Club followed by a high energy, vocal drenched jungle rinse out from Nia Archives at Levels.

Sunday provided even more musical variety which started off with a proper mosh pit at the incredibly fun Mongolian folk metal band The Hu, followed by a controlled and soulful performance from reggae don Barrington Levy at West Holts. Thundercat at Park started by telling us his chat between tunes might be limited having partied hard the night before but it didn’t mute his musical performance as he wowed the audience with a typically virtuoso display.

It’s one that occasionally strays into the jazz trap of musicians appearing to be enjoying themselves more than the crowd but the frontman’s easy charm, affability and soulful vocals save it from becoming an exhibition of over technical onanism.

Thundercat at Park- photo: Ben Wright

And then there was Elton. Despite facing competition on the other stages, most of the Glastonbury crowd descended on the Pyramid stage for what may be the singer’s final UK appearance. He moved stiffly around the stage, having to tug at trousers that kept falling down and occasionally burbled incoherently between songs (he tells us about the amazing Philadelphia music produced by Tom Bell that so inspired him but then forgets the band name and needs rescuing from the wings).

But all this seems to heighten the outpouring of love from an adoring audience who sing along to hit after hit, and there are a lot of them. It’s an understated performance that allows the music to speak for itself. Despite rumours of celebrity guests, the ones he brings on only punctuate his performance without stealing any thunder from the main event and it’s impossible not to be swept up in the adoration from the beaming, sometimes weeping, crowd.

Elton John at Pyramid- photo: Natalie Sayers

Conditions could hardly have been better on Worthy Farm this year. The sun shone and the site shimmered in heat and excitement throughout. As the sun sets over the Pyramid stage another glorious Glastonbury day turned into another perfect evening. The headliners played their part but they’re not really what Glastonbury is about of course.

It’s about hearing arguments over whether the seagulls in the night sky above are real or projection mapping; it’s about trudging back from the naughty corner with ringing ears and and an empty bum bag; it’s about crowd surfing to a Mongolian throat metal band you’d never heard of before; it’s about finding a random fiddle band in a bar tent between acts; it’s about seeing old crews reunite, years fading away as they move arm-in-arm through the enormous and beautiful site; it’s about losing your phone with all your review notes; it’s about raving under Arcadia’s giant fire-breathing spider; it’s about dimension hopping at the stone circle, desperately trying to cling on to the last remnants of this wonderful, unique and utterly chaotic festival that is like nothing else in the world.

Shy FX at Arcadia – photo: Natalie Sayers

Main photo: Natalie Sayers

Read next:

• Grove on sexuality, power and community
• Long-running music festival cancelled ‘with heavy hearts and deep regret’
• Emily Eavis recommends local festival for those who missed out on Glastonbury Tickets

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