More about: Glastonbury FestivalLiveAtWorthyFarm

Live At Worthy Farm opened up beautifully. Wolf Alice are absolutely the hottest band around right now. Blue Weekend is only weeks away at this point and the band are in fine form, laughing and joking amongst themselves as Ellie Rowsell’s voice soars above the indie bangers.

It seems as if I’m one of the lucky ones, as Twitter is exploding with disgruntled fans who have been met with “invalid code” responses, or streams that outright don’t work. As Wolf Alice’s triumphant set comes to a close, I fire off a fairly smug tweet about how much I’m enjoying #LiveAtWorthyFarm - my stream implodes mere seconds later and it didn’t come back on again. Serves me right I suppose - and no, I didn’t watch Eurovision instead.

Right, take two: Sunday night. Wolf Alice open: brilliant again. They're followed up by Kae Tempest, who delivers a wonderful spoken word piece. Kae seems so full of joy and confidence after they came out as non-binary, their words are impassioned and fierce: Kae is killing it. Hard cut to Michael Kiwanuka, who performs under a hastily-erected tent due to the persistent rain (classic Glastonbury, amirite?). Mercury Prize winning Kiwanuka spent the day carrying his bright white Converse around, so as to keep them pristine for the show. His shoes weren’t the only thing that shone: his soft rock musings filled the space brilliantly and with his Gibson SG slung around his neck, the set is jubilant.

Kurupt FM add some comic relief before we are whisked to George Ezra. Stood in front of Joe Strummer’s campfire, Ezra rattles through a short set of his most popular hits - he grins at the camera throughout, looking resplendent in his double denim. Next we see IDLES frontman Joe Talbot, speeding to a storage shed in the back of a '50s-style Cadillac: he joins the rest of the band as they tear into ‘War’, a cut from number-one album Ultra Mono. They play a mixed set in what looks like a metal canister; surrounded by welding, cars and twisted steel. The band are pulling no punches; despite the absence of guitarist Lee Kiernan (Masca guitarist Christina Maynard filled in manfully). IDLES play a set with such fierce energy, you can hardly tell there is no crowd there with them. 

We return to the Stone Circle as HAIM play out a set of their chilled indie pop. The music fits the scene, HAIM jam as the sun sets around them. It wouldn’t be a HAIM set without a considerable amount of bass-face, but the leather-clad trio play through a career-spanning set - although there was far too much bongo accompaniment, it was a solid set from the L.A. band. 

Next up are Coldplay - it genuinely amazes me how a band so mediocre keep getting booked for Glastonbury...I can only assume that Chris Martin has compromising pictures of Michael Eavis. They trudge through a set of identical songs as it pisses down around them, before Martin makes a “political” statement so lacking in content or passion, so totally devoid of the left wing spirit Glastonbury is so famous for, that you might mistake it for a Keir Starmer bit. Thank fuck that's over, because PJ Harvey is next. The complete antithesis to Coldplay, Polly Gene recites back to back poems as she glides through Worthy Farm’s trees.

Back to the Stone Circle once more for Damon Albarn, who rocks a splendid mullet. Albarn has fully embraced the ‘Six Music Dad’ look, as he repeatedly grins at the camera with his gold-toothed smile. Albarn plays a stunning, career-spanning set from behind a beautiful, yellow Wurlitzer: tracks include a stunning acoustic rendition of ‘Melancholy Hill’. George The Poet makes a brief appearance, underneath the skeleton of the Pyramid Stage before we are treated to Jorja Smith’s wonderful lo-fi indie pop set. Thom Yorke’s new band The Smile are next, they play a mostly uneventful set of new material inside what looks like a big dustbin. Johnny Greenwood is a member of the new project, and he's sporting the fringe of  a teenager who is reeeally into My Chemical Romance. 

A fantastically-creepy fox-headed man makes a number of appearances before Kano takes to an illuminated stage. He spits his verses at breakneck speed, decked out in a fully white suit. Rain thunders down, giving the whole set a '00s music video vibe, but it looks great and Kano sounds fantastic - the set ends with a fierce track, taking aim at inequality throughout the UK. 

Night has well and truly fallen now and the enigma that is Jarvis Cocker emerges, sitting in a leather wingback next to a bust of Michael Eavis. Sporting a Palastinian flag pin, Jarvis reads a bizarre tale of Glastonbury’s past with enigmatic style. DJ Honey Dijon is the penultimate act, and her vibrant celebration of Black femininity through electronic music is a true highlight of the night. The evening closes with Róisín Murphy, doing exactly what she does best.

A fantastic night of fun, that may have peaked a little early. If you made it to past midnight when Róisín took to the stage, then you’re a trooper. The technical issues are the tragedy here though, clearly so much effort went into making this a great night, but so many missed out through a colossal digital fuck up. 

More about: Glastonbury FestivalLiveAtWorthyFarm