Glastonbury 1985

[Skip997]

For me it all started in Wolverhampton. I’ve no idea looking back on how I got to know about Glastonbury Festival or for that matter Stonehenge Free Festival, but I do know I was determined to go to one of them that summer. History shows that I choose the right one; 1885 was the year of “The Battle of the Beanfield”, which effectively put an end to the Stonehenge event.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_the_Beanfield

Being on the dole in them days money was tight, but somehow I scrapped together the £17 and, off to HMV to get my Glastonbury ticket.

I headed off on Thursday evening, late, it was dark by the time I got my thumb out on the M6. Unusually for the time I failed to get a lift and retreated back to town (hitchhiking was easy and reliable in them days).

Friday morning was easy and I quickly arrived at Pilton, “armed” only with a sleeping bag and seven wraps of speed sown into patches on my jeans. I had no tent or spare clothes or even a raincoat, maybe I had a little cash, but probably no toothbrush.

It was sunny, I approached the main pedestrian gate, no one even looked at me, let alone stopped me. Slightly confused I walked about 100m beyond the gate, looked back, looked at my ticket and swore I’d never buy one again (I haven’t).

A quick assessment, or maybe not so quick, “wow this is paradise” as I peruse the tents on the corners of the paths with their menus advertising just about any drug you could imagine. So much freedom, so much anarchy!  

Down to the Pyramid, no idea who’s on, nor do I care (yes I know!). Memories start to fade at this point, but I do remember seeing: The Boomtown Rats, The Pogues (I thought Shame McGowan was going to collapse and die at any moment) and Ian Dury and the Blockheads (although some sources have that as happening on the Saturday). I also remember tapping this guy, wearing Hells Angel colours, on the shoulder and asking for a light, at which point someone said “you can’t do that he’s the head of the All England Chapter”, “so what he’s still just a person”. A lighter was passed to me with no reaction.

It’s hard to imagine how much space there was in them days.

At some point it started to rain, it got heavier, a young woman approached me and started to chat me up, until it became clear to her that I had no tent, she quickly disappeared. Guess I wasn’t the only one who came ill prepared. I sought shelter in a marquee, no idea where or what it’s purpose was, but there were a load of others camped out in there. I managed to squeeze in and lie down, just inside the door after hanging up my wet clothes somewhere.

I woke up to find my boots had gone, leaving me without footwear for the rest of the weekend. I guess there must have been a break in the rain because somehow I managed to partially dry my clothes, while dressed in a couple of bin bags.

The acid isn’t working, or maybe it is, never mind take some more. The speed has turned to mush, never mind it can go my coffee. I’m sinking, starting to lose it, overwhelmed and alone in this chaos. Should I go to welfare or take more drugs. You can probably guess which won. Fortunately shortly after that two friends from Wolverhampton found me, things immediately changed for the better. They got me fed (possibly all I ate,  all weekend), curtosy of another mate, again from Wolverhampton, watered and possibly a change of clothes?

We holed up in the Acoustic Tent, in those days it had rows of wooden tiered seating a the back, perfect to get a kip, and a small cafe inside. Memories from now on are very sporadic and muddled, I remember going out during rare breaks in the rain, transported through the mud (I believe this was the year “Muddy Lane” got it’s name) on my friends shoulders. I remember buying a whole tray of hash fudge, the only thing I ate for the rest of the weekend and selling some of my speed that had somehow survived.

The rest is a blur, I stayed in the Acoustic (in them days no stewards to throw you out) watched and danced to who ever was on, doing my best Mick Jagger impression or at least I thought so and occasionally crashed out on the tiered seating.

It’s Monday, I’m led off by the Wolverhampton crew and dumped in the back of a car. Next thing I remember is being shown into a strange house, sitting around a table and being introduced to a few folks, turns out one of them was Robert Plant’s brother, or was it cousin? We got back to Wolverhampton at some point.

 

[Scrump]

1 hour ago, Skip997 said:

Down to the Pyramid, no idea who’s on, nor do I care (yes I know!)

Hee hee.

 

Great work skip

[fred quimby]

Oh man 85. Very patchy memory of it. The mud though, man the mud, possibly the worst I have experienced. There was a massive mud slide on the hill down from the farm which people were having great fun with. All the stalls were up that way as well.

My patchy memories of that year. As not many stages was  at the Pyramid so would have seen loads. Bands I remember were Aswad, misty and roots, boomtown rats,Echo and the Bunnymen, Hugh Masakela, Third World, Ian Dury who had wads of mud thrown at him and he walked off stage, only came back on once the crowd were well and truly told off. If Gregory Isaac did play I would have definitely seen him but no memory of the cool ruler. Must have been others. 

Other memories. No wellies and my Martins getting ruined, had binbags inside them. Sylvesters veggi stall, with a cat in the hat sign who did the most wonderful stews when you were soaking and cold  God send. Strong acid, speed and dope. Sat in Tipis and busses chatting to people from different lifestyles to me, just wish I was more outgoing and less shy back then, I would have got so much more from it. Lots of mates around. Oh and stood at a stall when behind me I hear "This acid isn't working , reckon I need more" I look behind and there stands a tall chap, eyes like saucers , bollock nakid with a red ribbon tied round his cock. He was totally clean apart from feet. His mate with him dressed in all waterproofs covered head to toe in mud. 

Wonder if the dub tent was still there. Many happy memories of that place

When I met my wife I found that she had gone that year for the first time but left due to the weather. Never went back until we got together in 95.

I reckon it was a year my Mum and Dad came and picked me up on the Monday, they did it twice which was lovely of them. Parked by Mary's Gate watching the flood of festival goers leaving, Mum loved it.

Edited February 24, 2023 by fred quimby

[fred quimby]

We need Glasto worker, can't see his user name using @. On this thread, man as memories to share

[Skip997]

10 minutes ago, fred quimby said:

Oh man 85. Very patchy memory of it. The mud though, man the mud, possibly the worst I have experienced. There was a massive mud slide on the hill down from the farm which people were having great fun with. 

Great write up. I remember a mud slide on that hill, but that may have been 1986.

There was a guy half way up it with a bottle of amyl nitrate offering people a sniff, of course those who did ended back at the foot of the hill.

[clarkete]

1 hour ago, fred quimby said:

Oh man 85. Very patchy memory of it. The mud though, man the mud, possibly the worst I have experienced. There was a massive mud slide on the hill down from the farm which people were having great fun with. All the stalls were up that way as well.

My patchy memories of that year. As not many stages was  at the Pyramid so would have seen loads. Bands I remember were Aswad, misty and roots, boomtown rats,Echo and the Bunnymen, Hugh Masakela, Third World, Ian Dury who had wads of mud thrown at him and he walked off stage, only came back on once the crowd were well and truly told off. If Gregory Isaac did play I would have definitely seen him but no memory of the cool ruler. Must have been others. 

Other memories. No wellies and my Martins getting ruined, had binbags inside them. Sylvesters veggi stall, with a cat in the hat sign who did the most wonderful stews when you were soaking and cold  God send. Strong acid, speed and dope. Sat in Tipis and busses chatting to people from different lifestyles to me, just wish I was more outgoing and less shy back then, I would have got so much more from it. Lots of mates around. Oh and stood at a stall when behind me I hear "This acid isn't working , reckon I need more" I look behind and there stands a tall chap, eyes like saucers , bollock nakid with a red ribbon tied round his cock. He was totally clean apart from feet. His mate with him dressed in all waterproofs covered head to toe in mud. 

Wonder if the dub tent was still there. Many happy memories of that place

When I met my wife I found that she had gone that year for the first time but left due to the weather. Never went back until we got together in 95.

I reckon it was a year my Mum and Dad came and picked me up on the Monday, they did it twice which was lovely of them. Parked by Mary's Gate watching the flood of festival goers leaving, Mum loved it.

Apologies to anyone I've bored with some/all of this before...

85 was my first year and I think I was 16/17.  ME's brother Philip was in the local Liberal Party (as was) and they went there every year flogging cheese rolls 3 for a quid or 50p each, plus cups of juice or squash, so I went to help them out.  We had a stall up that muddy hill - I think it was just a frame tent or awning with a bunch of trestle tables.  We saw people sliding up or down that hill - the most prepared had DMs, but many had trainers or trainers with carrier bags inside.  I don't believe they'd ever had bad weather before, hence there were a number of folks who did what Skip did on the basis they'd just party all night or sleep under the stars.  Some just had denim or leather jackets, no waterproofs or any of that practical and unfashionable stuff.

To drum up further trade a couple of us grabbed a bread basket and carried it between us around the site - including the tents which @Skip997 described.  There were many fatigued punters inside who were very grateful of some cheap grub - as long as you approached them gently and didn't startle them.

I remember Boomtown Rats, Ian Dury, Aswad, Hugh Masakela, Green on Red, also a band called Toxic Shock as I'd hitched a lift to college with their sax player - the link from the old site does include some programme pages and pictures...
https://ukrockfestivals.com/glastonbury-festival-1985.html

As a young pup and because we only lived a few miles away I went home with my folks each night so had it very easy compared to those braving the weather. 

It was cracking to get to see the place and launched a life long love affair, as well as of course broadening my musical and cultural horizons.  The vehicles or motorbikes in various places with bits of strong marking folks' turf, or the frame tents with cardboard signs advertising their wares - my dad came back and remarked that he'd heard a bloke advertising "black 'ash" whilst he'd been exploring.  Now this year will be the 30th one 🙂