There was a moment earlier today that I kicked myself for not attending Glastonbury. 

A quick look at the webcam and it looked, well, dry.  And there are few better places in the world than a dry Glastonbury.

But then I just checked again and this is what the place looks like now and all of a sudden I’m glad I’ll be tuning into to it on the sofa later.

However this does give me the chance to tell a Glastonbury story. 

On my old old blog I once wrote this about the greatest performance I had ever seen - from a mystery performer in a tiny Glastonbury tent.  To tell the truth my memory is not that good.  I viewed the whole through a haze.  It had been one of the days.  But it was, kinda cosmic.  Man.

“His voice, when he started singing, was howling. Deeply mournful at first and the small crowd caught each other’s eyes and nodded and smiled in appreciation..”

“I had never heard the song before. I can’t even remember how it went. All I can recall is that it soon started to pick up pace and it moved from melancholic to joyful as it progressed through the verses.

“Our heads nodded more vigorously and our smiles grew wider as the song quickened. And, as it did so, it wasn’t long before the strumming of his guitar became a blur.

“By this time his howling voice was louder and clearer. He was holding notes for what seemed like forever. His eyes lighting up, watching us as we watched him in amazement.

Soon his right hand had become impossibly fast. You could no longer focus on it. The song was of the dueling banjos genre. He knew he could play faster and hold a note longer than anyone and he was enjoying watching our amazement

It was only earlier this year, while watching a DVD, that I found myself vaguely recognising the lead actor.  When he sang it became clear.  This was the guy.

I am fairly sure that this is my mystery singer.