Adrian Edmondson and the Bad Shepherds at Glastonbury Festival - shear genius

Growing up on a steady diet of punk rock, the Young Ones/Dangerous Brothers etc., Adrian Edmondson’s Bad Shepherds was one not to miss.  Sunday 2pm on the Glastonbury Avalon stage, with a pint in hand and blistering sunshine there was nowhere better to be.  

While half the festival was heading, like sheep (they must have had a good shepherd), to various venues around the site to watch England getting thrashed 4-1 by Germany, I was sticking here to watch a Mandolin being thrashed by Vyvyan of the Young Ones, or was it Vyvyan’s dad? Dunno it was hard to tell.

Folk punk aint a new idea - the Astronauts and Blyth Power anyone?  Reinterpretations of other people’s songs sure isn’t either - check out Nouvelle Vague for example who were playing elsewhere this weekend, and as my only knowledge of Ade’s ability to sing was when he was hamming it up on Celebrity Fame Academy or as spoof-metal singer Vim Fuego of Bad News it was interesting to see how this one would pan out.

Never fear though as the band launched into Anarchy in the UK, (which took me a few seconds to actually twig I must say), I knew we were in safe hands. With Ade’s over-enunciated lyrics replacing Jon Lydon’s sneer, and and Troy Donockley’s mesmerising Uilleann pipes this actually sounds like the kind of music one might use to beguile a wealthy Sheik in a bedouin tent in the middle of the desert as he’s entertained by belly dancers.

I Fought the Law had echoes of latter period Chumbawamba, while an upbeat No More Heroes was remarkably faithful to the the original whilst at the same time being totally different!

PIL’s Rise was upliftingly twangy, while for The Member’s Sound of the Suburbs, JC Carroll co-writer of the original number accompanied the band on stage, for a rendition that sounded remarkably like the aforementioned Astronauts.

Down in the Tubestation at MIdnight, London Calling and even Wreckless Eric’s 2 chord masterpiece Whole Wide World were given the Bad Shepherds treatment, while the Talking Heads Once in a Lifetime (the original of which I really can’t stand) was in fact wonderfully refreshing.

The crowd really loved them, toes were tapped, hands were clapped and a couple near me were jigging and spinning wildly around like dervishes throughout the set with grins smeared across their impish faces.

Wool I never, this was folking fantastic!