So that’s all from me, at least until tomorrow night when I’m here from 7pm to warm up for Coldplay’s Sunday night headline set.
Read Alexis Petridis’s review of Adele’s set, and there will be lots more reviews of today’s acts on theguardian.com/music from 7am tomorrow morning. See you then!
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As piano arpeggios ring out, Adele leaves in tears. The crowd are left singing the chorus to Someone Like You without her.
Snap verdict: no guests, not many up-tempo numbers, and yet somehow Adele managed to nail the Saturday night headline slot. Talk in the office about how Kanye’s set last year – another performance focused on just one person – felt cold and insular, whereas Adele managed to bring the crowd with her.
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Adele just handed the microphone to a crowd member so they could sing the chorus back to her. The person she picked was so impressively terrible that she snatched it back two seconds later.
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Adele’s “dying for a cider” so is about to wrap things up. She’s choking up as she introduces Someone Like You, which I am not going to rename Someone Like EU nor suggest that actually the lyrics can be repurposed to be about Brexit.
Besides, if there’s one message we can take from this song it’s that, even if you do break up with someone or something you love, you soon get over it and move on. Ahem.
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Footage of Adele playing that aforementioned 2007 show in the Guardian tent being shown on the big screen now! You can’t buy brand exposure like this ...
From a small tent in 2007 to headlining on a Saturday night. What a journey, @Adele. #Glastonbury pic.twitter.com/GxWwKTAFHL
— BBC Two (@BBCTwo) June 25, 2016
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There’s a pause in the music while security rescue an unwell crowd member from near the mixing desk. But there’s no pause in Adele’s patter. The star keeps everyone entertained during the break with stories about God knows what at manic pace: “Are you moving for security?” she asks, before rabbiting something about an old lady who pissed herself at one of her shows.
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Craille Maguire Gillies is in the crowd too and reports on the confetti machines. Apparently they’re firing out messages into the crowd, right up to the edge of Worthy Farm. Here’s what she caught ...
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Now it’s her cover of Bob Dylan’s Make You Feel My Love, which she dedicates to Pride. I’m not into Adele’s music, and I fully expected this set to be a bit boring, but she’s pretty much owning the headline slot so fair play to her. The key to a good Glastonbury set is to connect with the crowd and she’s definitely done that.
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“Fucking hell, that was amazing!” says Adele after Rolling in the Deep. It’s as if she’s watching someone headline Glastonbury rather than actually headlining it. Now she’s interviewing people in the crowd again, asking them where they’re from. “Stoke-on-Trent! Coventry! Reading!” she reads out, often to some playful booing from the crowd.
“Oi! I’ll have no fucking booing after what happened yesterday!” she says.
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Just had an email alert to say that a lot of people are currently reading this ... which is quite funny.
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While all this is going on, Gwilym Mumford has been at West Holts watching James Blake go full blub-step:
At West Holts, Guinness world records are being broken for the most people singing in an out-of-tune falsetto at one time. Clearly, being James Blake is harder than it looks. Blake’s wispy croon can be a bit of an acquired taste on record but live it has an almost devotional quality, reducing the boozy Saturday night crowd to a docile murmur. Even the inevitable roars from the Pyramid stage can’t break the spell.
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Adele is giving a masterclass on how to combat nerves. She stops River Lea because she’s “out of breath from all this dancing” and when she falls out of time later on she just starts shouting “shit” while she’s singing. As she says: “If you’re going to fuck up a song, you might as well do it during a headline set at Glastonbury.” Now we’re on to Rolling in the Deep for a necessary increase in tempo (it was getting slightly sluggish with all the ballads).
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I like people getting engaged at Glastonbury, especially as I proposed to my wife in front of the Pyramid stage many years ago, during Brian Wilson, and with a metallic blue Butterfly ring from a stall called Tomfoolery. No expense spared from me.
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Ok, it’s that kind of show: Marta Bausells says that a guy has just proposed to his girlfriend in front of her! She started crying and said yes (the girl, not Marta, I imagine). And here they are, John and Sam!
Says John: “That song Hometown we listened to when we both lived very far apart eight years ago. Since then we moved Brighton and had a kid, little Dexter. We literally lost each other 20 minutes ago – we’ve only got one phone on us and I thought I wouldn’t find her. And we found each other just before that song. I’ve been waiting all weekend for the right moment, and that was it.”
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Text from my wife at home: “Does Adele think this is Alan Carr: Chatty Man?”
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This is definitely the hammiest Glastonbury headline performance of all time, but it’s quite amusing: “There’s Michael Eavis! Oh my gawd! Thanks for having me, sir!”
We’re currently hearing a story about her having a Chinese last night while she watched Muse. And now it’s Hometown Glory, which she wrote “when I was 16 – never in my life did I think I would be playing it here.”
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Adele’s certainly bringing the #banter – with a back catalogue of mid-tempo ballads she’s going to need that to keep it lively, with maybe the odd guest or two to mix things up later on. This is the first year I’ve not been to Glastonbury since about 1852, so it’s hard to get a grasp on how well it will be going down on site, but according to Marta Bausells, who’s there, the Pyramid stage is “packed and she’s smashing it ... there’s a lot of teenage-like fandom. Basically a lot of kids, but also people of all ages who know all the lyrics.”
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“Have any of you done a piss in front of the stage? What about a shit?” ... you certainly didn’t get this with Neil Young
She’s just brought a 10-year-old girl called Lyla onstage. Lyla is remarkably calm considering she’s being interviewed live for a Glastonbury headline slot in front of thousands of people and the audience of BBC2. I fear gigs might seem quite disappointing for Lyla after this ...
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“Oh my gawd,” screams Adele. Before “Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, oh my gawd.” She then says “Oh my gawd,” before concluding with something along the lines of “Oh my gawd, oh my gawd.”
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We’re on I’ll Be Waiting now. There’s a real Dusty in Memphis feel to these songs thanks to the retro soul backing band. Adele seemed really nervous and, dare I say it, a little off key during Hello but she’s fully in the swing of things now. She seems to be having a blast.
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I made a Someone Like EU gag on Twitter and now look what’s happened ...
@timjonze I want odds on Coldplay having at least one chorus of Fix EU tomorrow...
— Henry Rawlings (@woofwalkwag) June 25, 2016
“This is mad,” is Adele’s next sentence. I think she might spend the next two hours coming to terms with the fact she’s topping the bill at Glastonbury. She’s certainly got the hang of making a gigantic headline show seem like an intimate gig for her best mates. Now we’re on to Rumour Has It ...
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“You look fucking amazing,” yells Adele. We’re still on Hello and she’s already spent her fee on the swear box.
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Hello is her first song and it sets the tone for what might well be one long singalong. She changes the words to “Glastonbury dreaming” just to keep everyone on their toes.
Then she says, in classic Adele style: “Fucking hell!”
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Here comes Adele! Her eyes are on the big screen. Hello is wobbling out of the speakers. And there’s some people with cellos sitting on stage. Strap yourselves in – rock’n’roll doesn’t get more thrilling than this.
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Adele is on shortly. But will it be as good as the time she played the Guardian tent in 2007 “to nobody, in a downpour”? We’re about to find out ...
When you've been waiting so long for this moment. Queen @Adele #Glastonbury pic.twitter.com/8x1Fl44dP7
— Aisha S Gani (@aishagani) June 25, 2016
Caspar Llewellyn Smith has gone right down to the front for Adele, quite possibly against his will ...
I’m squeezed rather too down the front for comfort for Adele, at the behest of my 15-year old daughter and fellow festival-goer. The crowd is appreciably younger – by about three decades, at least – than it was for Squeeze and Madness on the same stage earlier. And giddy with excitement, to the extent that some lads nearby have just burst into an impromptu version of Will Grigg’s on Fire. Fun times.
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Ben Beaumont-Thomas has been “gawping at a sunset” for the last 10 minutes. Thankfully he had the decency to share his moment with us ...
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The sun is setting at Glastonbury. Also there seems to be a giraffe in the crowd.
Harriet Gibsone has been watching the 1975 on the Other stage. Despite the fact one commenter below claims the Guardian are being paid huge sums of money to write nice things about them, she maintains she was only paid a moderate sum and a falafel wrap for this ...
The set begins with the elastic groove of the INXS-aping Love Me, crescendos during Chocolate and apart from a slightly self-indulgent interlude in which a sax solo and slow-burning melody wafts over a fidgety audience desperate for a singalong, it’s a vibrant, energised performance. It’s not all posturing and pomp, however. Whether or not you buy into the pseudo-intellectualism spouted by Healy during most of his interviews, you couldn’t help but feel heartened during his rallying cries for optimism mid-set. Fusing the silly and the sincere, the 1975 are bombastic and brilliant festival highlight; it’s bizarre they’re not higher up on the bill.
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Adele is telling Jo Whiley that she considered ditching this whole headlining Glastonbury thing altogether and driving home. “I’d have got home before my set,” she reasons, which doesn’t really make that much sense seeing as she wouldn’t have been able to watch it on television.
The reviews are piling in at a snappy rate now. Here’s Alexis Petridis on John Grant:
Midway through his performance on the John Peel stage, John Grant announces that he’s suffering from flu: “I’m losing my voice, but Sinead O’Connor told me it’s not about the notes, it’s about the feeling, so I’m just going to scream.” In fact his admission, which comes just before a version of arguably his most beloved song, Glacier, is the moment that tips his set over from merely great – split between pounding, techno-influenced tracks, during which Grant proves himself to be the very model of hip-shaking funkiness, and piano ballads, during which his mordant lyrical wit is amply on display – into something tumultuous.
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Ben Beaumont-Thomas has been getting cosmic to jazzy electro-classical boffin Floating Points. Here’s what he had to say ...
Floating Points gets the coveted sunset slot at the hillside Park, and brings a suitable level of wonderment at the earth and sky. Although originally known for bass-facing dance, his style is now pure space-rock, with euphoric guitar and sax soloing at the climaxes of building cosmic energy. The maximalism occasionally bleeds the colour out, but this tees up a night of vision quests very nicely.
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We’re about an hour away from Adele. When I first heard she was playing I wasn’t sure if she’d bring enough #vibes for a Saturday night headline slot, but it’s possible that heartbreak ballads that make an entire field want to cry are exactly what 48% of Britain needs right now.
If you want to swot up on Adele information, here’s Alexis Petridis’s review of her third album, 25.
And here’s an interview with her by Tom Lamont
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Controversy and drama as a review comes in that’s not written by Kate Hutchinson. She’s clearly slacking off and will be fired in the morning, mark my words. Here’s Caspar Llewellyn Smith on the Very Best’s performance ...
Earlier, Baaba Maal welcomed members of the Very Best on stage during his set an the Pyramid, and at West Holts favours were reciprocated. The Senegalese singer joined the Temper Trap, the Trills and Afrikan Boy as guests of what’s already a polyglot band. It was a brilliantly refreshing show, the Afro pop of Swedish producer Johan Hugo making even fading ravers rave in the early evening sun – before a rainbow, rather fittingly, appeared above the stage.
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What on earth happened to Alex Turner? He’s currently gyrating in flares to a cover of Bowie’s Moonage Daydream.
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No that’s not still Squeeze on BBC2, it’s some debate about the European Union between various economic experts. Which is why I’m back on BBC4 watching Alex Turner and Miles Kane thrust their tightly trousered crotches in my direction. Not sure which is more terrifying.
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Mumford and Sons turned up for a quick set in the acoustic tent earlier, our snapper was there ...
Another review has come in, this time from ... er, Kate Hutchinson again. Is anyone else doing any work or are they all in a group reiki healing session somewhere? Here’s what she had to say about Tame Impala
A rainbow is stretched across the Pyramid field, the flags are out in force, and Kevin Parker and his crew are playing the show that underlines their journey from psych-rock noiseniks to festival big-hitters. Let It Happen is a wonderfully whimsical opening, and a suitably carefree mantra for the rest of the evening, as Daft Punkish Autotune meets proggy harmonies and poppy electronics; followed by lush, wafty slow jams; and predictably some enormo riffs to come.
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On BBC2 we’ve got Madness. On BBC4 we’ve got Squeeze. More grey hair than at a Leave celebration party. Have to be honest, with the double screen setup I’ve got going on, it doesn’t make this year’s Glastonbury seem especially cutting edge.
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A lovely image during Pride weekend – John-Paul Nicholas snaps a rainbow over the site
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Let’s talk post-Brexit soundtracks! Icelandic soundscapers Sigur Rós are who we should be reaching for, at least according to this commenter.
Quite possibly this is because Iceland’s own lack of EU membership combined with them signing up to the European Free Trade Association suggests that ... you know what? Let’s talk about something different ...
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Kate Hutchinson is as multi-platform as it gets these days, and has moved deftly from facial reviews to textual ones. She’s had these less than glowing words to say on Kurt Vile ...
During a dreary afternoon at the Park stage at Glastonbury, when spirits need to be lifted the most, his low-slung mumblecore Americana becomes monotonous enough to sink you deeper into the mud banks ... he lacks the crowd-engaging charisma that’s so desperately needed to turn his set into a memorable one.
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You can watch Madness perform on BBC2 at the moment and ... well, is Suggs wearing a mullet wig or did I drop some Glastonbury acid on my way in?
If you’re watching Baaba Maal getting funky on BBC4 at the moment, here’s what Caspar Llewellyn Smith had to say about his performance earlier today
It’s hard to credit that Baaba Maal is now 62, but the Senegalese singer remains in wonderful vocal nick and – initially mining an acoustic vein – effortlessly transports the Pyramid crowd to his patch of the world. There’s also an appearance from the Very Best – playing at West Holts themselves later – and their souped-up vibes from the warm heart of Africa beautifully soothe any lingering (or developing) hangovers.
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“This might be unsuitable for the live blog but …” says Kate Hutchinson from the field in Glastonbury that’s muddy with flags (you know, that one).
She’s decided to review Tom Odell using facial expression alone. I’d say that’s a two-star at best for poor Tom. Either that or he’s playing near the long drops.
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Hello! Party time! Woo! Everyone’s in the party spirit this weekend, I trust? Nothing getting you down?
Well, the good news is that I’m here until around midnight, providing post-Brexit party vibes for us all while we come together as one to watch Adele sing about painful separations that she’s never gotten over. What could be more apt?
Before she takes to the stage for a unique performance (she’s not one for big shows, let alone headlining Glastonbury) I’ll be bringing you all the buildup from BBC2 and BBC4 (Baaba Maal is on right now), keeping you in touch with the latest news from our reporters on the ground at the festival and drinking red wine until I can’t even spell referendum, let alone get upset about it.
And so to start things off, here’s a big gong!
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The melodic, slow burn of EITS and Sigur Ros alongside cathartic anger from Savages summed up my post-Brexit mood perfectly yesterday. The 1975 though....what?