Why I'd rather watch films than go to Glastonbury

With a heaving summer of music festivals ahead, David Jenkins reveals why he won't be leaving his flat for any of them

If there’s one thing that grinds my gears more than the recent spate of wildly erratic weather and the thought of one day having to sit through ‘Transformers 2’ again, it’s the huge number of people who blather on about how they ‘can’t wait for Glasto’. Frankly, I’d rather stay at home with my hot shower, a fridge full of farmers' market delicacies and a nice, comfy sofa than potentially have untreated fecal matter flung in my general direction while minnow indie bands play atonal guitar dirges through tinny PA systems. The three headline acts at this year’s festival – Blur, Bruce Springsteen and Neil Young – admittedly had me interested for about 30 seconds, but the rigmarole of getting it all sorted, and the risk of the entire venue turning into a giant mudslide is just too much to bear.

Moreover, I can catch all the action from home if I really wanted to. All three main stage headliners have had insightful and poignant films made about them, all of which give real insight into what it’s like to be in a band, the prerogatives of performing live, and the sometimes messy strains of riding the festival trail. One of the most treasured possessions from my ephemeral indie pop-loving youth is a VHS copy of Matthew Longfellow’s fly-on-the-wall documentary ‘Starshaped’ (1993) which followed Blur on tour around Britain in the year before they burst into the mainstream with ‘Parklife’. It’s hardly what you’d call a work of high art, but the snappy, studenty editing and a torrent of cheeky quips from a band high on the hog of moderate chart success and lashings of weak lager was truly a joy to behold.

The Boss has certainly put his hours in when it comes to strutting his stuff in front of the camera, from his quaint, life-guru cameo in Stephen Frears’s ‘High Fidelity’ to this year’s ratings-conquering short set during the half-time of the Super Bowl. One of the best concert films going can be seen on a supplementary DVD in the thirtieth-anniversary collector’s edition box set of his ‘Born to Run’ album. Alongside an at-their-peak E-Street Band, Bruce wails, hollers and gyrates his way through a magnificent, all-cylinders-firing set which, due to the simple filming technique, really feels like you’re sat on the front row of the Hammersmith Odeon in 1975.

Bypassing Neil Young’s hapless forays into fiction filmmaking (‘Greendale’ being the most recent offender), he’s actually been responsible for some of the most enjoyable and lively concert films ever. His early, spooky ‘Rust Never Sleeps’ (1974) revealed his aptitude as a showman, the Jim Jarmusch-directed ‘Year of the Horse’ (1997) showed him as a full-blown rocker, and the recent ‘Neil Young: Heart of Gold’ (2006), where he plays his underrated ‘Prairie Wind’ album in Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium, gave us a man totally in balance with his own legend and able to translate an album into a live setting with rare brilliance.

There’s actually no reason why you couldn’t recreate Glastonbury in your own front room: tip the contents of a waste paper bin over the floor, fill your fridge with economy lager, wear a battered sun hat and some designer wellies, and watch some great concert movies as the sun goes down…

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