What a belter. On their last two appearances ats Glastonbury , The Streets have closed the festival on the Sunday night in the recently-renamed Woodsies tent, providing a rowdy last hurrah to exhausted revellers. A sonic “one for the road”, if you will.
So it is something of a fillip to see them playing the far bigger Other Stage on the Saturday night, one down from headliners Disclosure. They’ve gone from digestif to apéritif on the hedonism menu – and this is surely the party of the weekend. Rampant bonhomie, mass singalongs, crowdsurfing, coloured flares and a packed crowd comprising everyone from young children to beardy hippies as the sun sets.
.. this gig is an hour of joyous pandemonium.
It’s truly one for the ages. And conducting this raucous orchestra is Mike Skinner , a man who proves tonight via his innate understanding of what makes this festival tick – the humour, the eccentricity, the importance of the Saturday night at the greatest show on Earth – that he is a true Glastonbury legend. The Streets is essentially Skinner, a Birmingham-born rapper and producer who, blends hip hop with UK garage, ska and indie rock, overlain with whip-smart, often humorous lyrics about the minutiae of city life: the insecurities; the clubs and their back rooms; the romances; and the characters.
He walks on stage nonchalantly, dressed in black shorts and a black t-shirt, as if he’s searching for some tea bags. But within two songs he’s crowdsurfing. “I hate to b.
