VIDEO: Glasto highs and lows of Advertiser editor

GLASTONBURY is upon us and our editor, Andrew Mosley, is somewhat of a stalwart of the festival and has been nine times since 1994.

We asked him to give us his most memorable Glastonbury moments – and it turns out he’s more rock ‘n’ roll than we thought!

His highlights include several ‘near death moments’, Damien Hirst, helping Muse to make it big, playing football with Robbie Williams, and errr....Rolf Harris.

Here's his Glasto top ten moments in his own words:

1) It’s 1995 and we’ve wandered over to see the Stone Roses on the Pyramid Stage. Only they’re not there because one of them has injured himself falling off his mountain bike. On come Jarvis Cocker and Pulp, genuinely shocked to be headlining. They launch into what Jarvis announces as a new song they’re not too sure about. It’s Common People and it’s tremendous, condensing the biggest chip on my shoulder into four minutes of lyrical genius.

2) In 1999 my brother left me to die on the final night of a festival memorable for me not being able to remember very much except for two things. The first was we had pitched up next to a caravan which was surrounded by bales of hay and inhabited by a collection of people who decided to perform Britpop/rave/karaoke all night. On the second night my brother went round to ‘sort them out’ but returned delighted to have been greeted by Joe Strummer of The Clash, Bez from the Happy Mondays, Lily Allen’s dad Keith and the artist Damien Hirst. The next night after a heavy day and following the consumption of a pint of whisky, I looked ill enough (ok, I passed out) for my brother and his mates to conclude that I had died. How did they react? They walked off to see the Chemical Brothers and came back afterwards to check if I was still breathing. 

3) It’s 2002, I’ve left my muddy, waterlogged tent on site and got in my car when a lorry jack-knifes and blocks the exit, leaving me car-bound for a full 12 hours just metres from the road. I have no food or water, it’s baking hot and I’m hungover. Also, my mobile’s run out of charge and I eventually arrive home 14 hours later to find my ex-partner has not only rung my mum, her mum, the hospital and police to find out if I’ve died. Probably wishes I had now. Rod Stewart played that year!

4) They don’t come much bigger than a former Beatle and in 2004 it was Paul McCartney’s turn. On he comes with “Jet, na na na na na...Jet,” and my brother says: “That’ll do, we can say we’ve seen a Beatle now.” Off we go to the second stage to watch, er, Basement Jaxx in the rain.

5) The year 2000 again and a rare opportunity to see a genuine legend perform a greatest set as David Bowie launched a tradition of stars mopping up the event on the Sunday night slot. I was hammered and looking rough after three days of no sleep. Bowie, 20 years older, looked and sounded fantastic. I’ll remember “Heroes” forever.

6) Name-dropping time. I’d known Muse since judging them third in a battle of the bands contest when they were called the Rocket Baby Dolls, a move that finished my record company scouting ambitions. To see their songs gravitate from Nirvana rip-offs to stadium rock anthems was a genuinely great moment in 2004. Sadly, drummer Dominic Howard’s father died of a heart attack backstage after their set.

7) David Gray – what can you say? I’d drifted off in the mid-afternoon sun, again in 2000, to wake and find him babbling on about Babylon, leaving quickly in case anyone should think I’d deliberately turned up to see him. Several hours later I arrived in a different field to find whoever I’d anticipated seeing had cancelled and Gray had been brought in as replacement. Even his closest family wouldn’t want to see him twice in one day and that’s without having to hear Babylon. 

8) Did it really happen? It’s the year 2000 and Oklahoma psychedelic rockers the Flaming Lips are in the ‘new tent’ despite having been together for 20 years. Singer Wayne Coyne appears to have blood streaming from his face and the stage is packed with hundreds of balloons and dancing Teletubbies. At least I think it is. Similarly, three years later Super Furry Animals, dressed as yetis, would win over the festival with an extended techno version of their tribute to footballing maverick Robin Friday “The Man Don't Give A F**k”.

9) I’d moved down to the Westcountry in 1993 and the following year managed to blag myself a free VIP ticket, so turned up without a tent for an extremely uncomfortable but “interesting” three nights. In one day the NME Stage boasted pre-fame Blur, Pulp, Radiohead, who had just charted with Creep, and the then cockiest band on the planet, Oasis. I’m no massive fan, but they ruled Glastonbury that year. Incredibly, Echobelly headlined! At one point I kicked a stray football back to Robbie Williams and didn’t recognise him.

10) It’s 2000 and we’re well up for Rolf Harris as are the hundreds in the crowd dressed as kangaroos. Recent revelations have somewhat tainted lyrics about Jake the Peg and his extra leg and asking a ‘sport’ to tie down his kangaroo, but as Rolf launches into the chorus of ‘Two Little Boys’ I look to my right to find a grown man crying. Maybe he knew something I didn’t.