Overheard in the Glastonbury crowd during Metallica’s headline set

Elaine Daley makes predictions and is never wrong. Here she speculates on what you’ll hear being said in the crowd when Metallica take the stage. Remember Glastonbury sold out before Metallica were announced, so all those metropolitan boys and girls hoping for a bit more Tom Jones or Mumford and His Sons will be ‘awfully upset.’


– – –

Which bottle am I supposed to throw? The Cabernet Sauvignon or the Merlot?
For heaven’s sake, Hattie. The Sauvignon is a ’74, throw the Merlot.

Why are they headlining? I couldn’t find any of their CDs in Waitrose.

Can’t hear that shit, man. Seek and. . . .
(Crowd member)
Seek and what? They have two predicates in a sentence with no subject.

I had to reassure father. I told him they’re a frightfully diverse band. The drummer is Danish and the bass player is a Chinaman or something.

I say, the singer has tattoos all over his arms.

(During the song One)
Actually, this song is rather agreeable. What’s it about again?

Of course, when the Bayliner arrived and mother saw the upholstery was lined with blue she absolutely threw a fit. Threw a fit.

D’you know, I think my ears have just popped.

(Crowd member 1)
I’m from Humberside.
(Crowd member 2)
Ah, yes. That’s near Portugal isn’t it?

These American bands are so awfully loud these days.

Metallica, oh yar, Metallica, oh yar.

Godfrey, what exactly is a motherfucker?
It’s a member of the heron family, I believe.

Nathaniel claims to listen to them in the MG, but I wouldn’t give them house room.

This place has gone orf.

Look Bunty, I’ve deliberately spilled cous-cous down my tee-shirt.
Oh, Roger, how terribly rebellious of you.

I say we go back to the tent. The servants should be in bed by now.

Weren’t they the band on Loose Ends?
No, you’re confusing them with Hinge and Bracket.

The bass player’s guitar must be so heavy. His legs have buckled again.

I could have swore one of them played the bassoon.

For Whom the Bell Tolls. Gosh, I adore Hemingway.

They played a concert at the Antarctic apparently.
Oh, well done them. Must have been frightfully chilly.

The chappy on the drums, I believe his father is a member of the same club as the Dean of Winchester.

(Crowd member text to Provincial Life Insurance)
‘Am I covered for death by moshpit.’

I came out of the toilets and walked straight into Terry Waite. I was astonished how tall he is.

My god!
What is it, Justin?
I’ve just been hit on the head with a bottle of Merlot ’96




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