A song that reminds me of somewhere

As much as I loathe the Pilton Music Festival, which most people incorrectly call Glastonbury (and man, do I ever loathe Pilton/Glastonbury), this song reminds me of a moment so stunning, my eyes almost fill with tears when I recall it.

The rain was a consistently heavy, non-passing shower, and it had been for a couple of hours.

It wasn’t a downpour, but over the hours the constant rain had soaked through everything we wore, and everything on the campsite.

My hair ran wet, pressed flat against my head, my contact lenses were well-moistened.

It was dark.

And although I was cold with the rain and the very cool night air, pressed up against the crash barriers at the front of the stage as I was, the heat of the lights on the gantry felt like mild sunburn on my face.

And towards the end of a set that was mostly average, they performed this song.

And after the long intro, the band sang. And the crowd quietly began to sing along with them.

The crowd’s volume slowly increased as the crowd sang like a nervous choir, gradually gaining confidence.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up against the rain as almost 100,000 of us forgot the weather and our wet clothes, and how cold we were.

And we lived the song.

It was magical.

And for the entirety of this song, I loved Glastonbury.

Keane’s ‘Bedshaped’ has never been the same since.