Friday 26/06/09 Glastonbury Festival 2009, Day One @ Worthy Farm, Pilton

Judging by the insane four-hour-long traffic queues alone, most people head to Glastonbury on either Wednesday or Thursday night. They do so for two reasons: set up, and get smashed. Which means by the time the music starts on Friday, half the festival has been going at it full-steam for two nights in the damp – cue soggy comedown Friday morning.
 
Despite this, The Maccabees fill The Other Stage right the way back to the campsite – a sure measure of their massive appeal following smash second album ‘Wall Of Arms’ earlier in the year. They look pretty nervous bunkered down, stony faced under the black clouds. ‘Precious Time’, ‘Lego’ and ‘X-Ray’ from their debut album gets everyone singing along. But the real fun starts when they mess up an opening half way through and their nerves break, as do the clouds, with it all ending in a jubilant ‘Love You Better’ under a sudden ray of sunshine.

The decision to station Fleet Foxes on the biggest stage going, The Pyramid Stage, seems an odd one, with the sylvan loveliness of their male part-harmonies lost under the fog of the weather and the prevailing mood. They take the opportunity to debut two new tracks, but cajole little reaction from those assembled until ‘White Winter Hymnal’ – it’s a misjudged location and an unfortunate time-slot for a band who should otherwise embody the spirit of their rural surroundings.

An uphill slide on the mud-tracks later and a disproportionately huge crowd has gathered by the Park Stage for ‘Special Guests’. Word’s been going round that Jack White’s latest musical incarnation, The Dead Weather, are present to add some gothic bite to proceedings. When the hearsay turns out to be true the reception is electric. Allison Mosshart is transformed from her usual sultry Kills persona into a frontwoman to dream of, screeching and grinding and throwing herself around Dean Fertita’s filthy riffs. Meanwhile Jack White’s drumming is looser than your average and all the more glorious for its sheer abandonment. He takes up guitar duties for the finale leaving no doubt that this is how to do Glastonbury: turn up unannounced and blow the programme out the muddy waters.

Where some acts use their surroundings to enhance their sound (a la Bon Iver), others ignore the setting entirely. To this end Lady Gaga does her best to turn The Other Stage into the cabaret nightclub in which she was conceived. Her set, all costumed theatrics, synchronised dancers and outfit-changes, includes a protracted, acoustic version of ‘Poker Face’, dedicated to her friends and her “fascination with women”, which sees her bent at the waist, balancing one-legged to play a white grand piano. The dance version that quickly follows features a metal torso plate that shoots burst of flames from the nipples. And who said the woman’s nothing but a gimmick (or two)?

In a weekend of stunning headlining sets that reaffirm the notion of the headliner as the climax of the day’s performances, Neil Young performs with trademark brilliance. Rapidly putting paid to worries that he’ll shy from the hits, ‘Cinnamon Girl’, ‘Needle And The Damage Done’ and ‘Rockin The Free World’ dissolve into heady prog outros of rambling magnificence, seeing Young switch between electric, acoustic, organ and even vibraphone. It’s a spectacle of remarkable significance considering so many of his generation are incapable of keeping pace with the man – two hours later with the closing encore, the Beatles’ ‘A Day In The Life’, and you begin to wonder if Neil Young is immortal – repeated performances of this calibre ensure his reputation surely is.

Skipping back up to The Park to catch the end of Animal Collective is a master-stroke that sets the evening off on an off-kilter, beat-laden slant. While those heading up from the Pyramid Stage arrive too late to hear ‘My Girls’, there’s some twisted mixing and an impromptu congo that go down a storm with everyone, now back on form for another debauched night at Trash City and Shangri La. It feels, at that moment, like Glastonbury will go for ever – those present have no idea how quickly it will all be one gloriously blurred memory.

Day One in photos: