The Ned Wood Archive

Sam

Down at the bottom of Hawkwell campsite, further along the track by the Woods, there’s a few traders, including one serving refreshments from an old double decker bus.  Sam drops by to get himself an orange after he leaves Ade, and then strolls into the Woods just past the traders so he can sit down and enjoy it.

Back in the day, this was just a useful short cut from the Pyramid to Peel to save you battling the crowds outside San Remo.  Now it’s a world of its own.  Part of the festival but not part of the festival.  A little bit of wilderness in the centre of it all.  And, it being midsummer’s day, you still have to share it with the spirits and piskies and sprites and faeries out for their own carnival.  Oh, you never actually see them completely, you just get a glimpse of a shadow or a sparkle of colour in the corner of your eye.  Come here some nights and you can hear them playing.  Of course, last night, though, they would have been out in force.  Midsummer night.  

There’s an old piano in the Woods.  If you’re quiet you can hear the spirits tinkling the keys.  There’s a tree house and an aerial walkway you can climb up to and walk along.  If you peer over the side, you can maybe see the rustle of vegetation as the merrymaking sprites rush around the forest floor.  There’s a misty lake beyond the trees that you can glimpse through the leaves.  Look closely and you may see the ripples from a pair of frolicking nymphs.  

But only when it’s quiet.  Right early in the morning or late at night after the crowds have migrated to the southeast corner.  This afternoon those people that have finished setting up camp have come out exploring and some are venturing among the trees, scaring off the wood folk.  There’s a bar in there surrounded by a collection of chattering mortals.  Further on there’s a stage the size of a wooden pallet at the junction of two tracks.  Four blokes, older even than Sam, play an assortment of instruments: sax, accordion, mandola, guitar.  It shouldn’t work, but it does.  Sam sits on one of a couple of benches lining one of the tracks and starts to watch.  The quartet take that as a sign that they should finish and rush off.  Was it something he said?  He never finds out their name.

He’s started to peel his orange when a young lad comes on.  Just him and a guitar.  Dan Ottewell.  Sam stays to listen while he enjoys his snack, one link of orange at a time.  Sam’s not a guitarist, not really, but he’s intrigued by the sound and guesses that this kid’s guitar’s using some folkie open tuning.  Slightly strange chords.  He plays a bit of drone, a bit of slide, some runs, some arpeggios, and some Martin Carthy-like open string work.  A folkie, but visually and attitude-wise, he’s got a Joe Strummer vibe.  Loads of energy.  A bit of anger.  His songs are unconventional.  Half folk.  Half something stronger – a bit more of that Strummer vibe.   Sam makes a note to remember the name. 

This is the best part of Glastonbury for Sam.  One of the best parts.  Wandering round the site, not looking for anything special, then bumping into someone new to get into.  How many stages are there here?  Hundreds, probably.  And how many acts?  Thousands?  Maybe.  So, whenever you go, there’s always gonna be something to find.  

Sam’s reinvigorated by the music.  He strolls out of the Woods and under the wide winged canopy of the new stage outside the Peel tent.  A trio of youngsters are playing some trippy electronic stuff for twenty or so relaxed teenagers lying on the grass.

Sam heads over to the Green Fields.  He’s got a date with Steve Knightley at the Croissant Neuf bandstand later on.  Knightley’s a Glastonbury fixture and Sam always tries to fit him in.  That’s typical for Sam.  Discover someone new then find someone he knows.  He grabs a bite on the way from a Mac n Cheese stall in the Reach.  

Knightley never lets you down.  He’ll play you some new stuff he’s just written.  He’ll do the Springsteen song.  He’ll play you Cousin Jack so you can have a good singalong.  If you’re lucky, he’ll get the mandocello out for Romeo and Juliet.  And he’ll finish off with the Galway Farmer.  Sam makes sure he catches him each year.  One year he did a show with Seth Lakeman.  They were both fantastic that night.  Argued about jam, scones, and cream all evening, though.  But really brought the best out of each other.  Yep, it’s always worth fitting Steve Knightley in.