15.40, Other Stage

And so, head cowed, I accede once more to the jibberings and yabberings of the hipsters and hypesters, and dutifully catch the end of THE THRILLS. But – ha! – the hipsters and hypesters are wrong again too! By contrast with Sparta, the joyous sun-worship that seems to be their raison d’etre should by rights ensure that The Thrills and Glastonbury go together perfectly, like Michael Eavis and his Amish beard – and perhaps they do for most onlookers. However, the band go together with me more like Andrew Motion and rap, Liam Gallagher and humility, David Gray and entertainment – I could go on, but you get the picture. ‘Santa Cruz (You’re Not That Far)’ and ‘Don’t Steal Our Sun’ sound to these ears like a bad Britpop hangover – slight, undercooked and downright bland tunes idly dressed up with a few references to that wondrous life-giving golden orb in the sky and selected mythically idyllic places on the American West Coast in order to masquerade as summer anthems. Well, I’ve seen through your little scam, boys, and I’m not falling for it.