Being Wurzelised

I have to admit, I was a little sad this week when U2 had to pull out of Glastonbury cos Bono’s back’s giving him gyp. Like Jet, Bono, Th’Edge and the gang are a guilty musical pleasure of mine, and I was disappointed I wouldn’t get to see them again.

After today though, I’ve discovered a way to completely fill that gaping hole in the festival line-up left by Ireland’s second-favourite sons (Westlife being first, obviously). Just look who I’ve spent the day with:

Wurzels

That’s right, only the bloomin’ Wurzels. I’m a fully-fledged groupie now – I figure now I’ve seen Tommy Banner in a vest and been invited to go backstage at their Glasto show I can call myself that, anyway.

I won’t spoil what they said because the full interview’s going in Farmers Weekly in a few weeks – there’s a cracking video of them for the website too – but they were such nice chaps (I’m assuming the moment where Pete seemed to compare me to a bovine was an accidental blip…).

They’ve got another album of covers coming out next month to tie in with their festival appearance – my head DJ hasn’t stopped playing their version of Kaiser Chief’s ‘Ruby’ out of my head since I heard it.

I think it’s only right that I take Mr Business, Mr Arable and Miss Machinery to their festival set so they can get it stuck in their heads too. I’m kind like that.

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1 Response to “Being Wurzelised”


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