Thursday, July 10.
Aside from spending six days nursing a rather painful case of welly-rash several things stick in my mind from last year’s muddy Glastonbury festival.
The sight of a barely conscious man, at the end of what must have been a protracted day on the cider, parting the massed crowds in front of the Pyramid Stage by urinating in the middle of the mosh pit is definitely one memory likely to stay with me for a while.
I also can recall - almost but not quite as vividly - dragging my long-suffering girlfriend away from whichever indie rockers she wanted to watch on the main stage and then traipsing halfway across the site, through miles of sticky mud, to watch Chas ‘n’ Dave.
Memorable not simply because of the scowl my girlfriend had on her face for most of the set, the cockney rockers’ appearance has lived with me mainly because I left thoroughly underwhelmed by what I had witnessed.
How pleased I was then when I departed The Horns last Thursday night after watching the “rockney” duo entertain the crowds in what surely is their natural habitat - the old “nuclear sub”.
What was lost in the vast swathes of a rain sodden Somerset fields was here in spades when packed into the confines of Watford’s best public house.
Despite starting off a little slowly the pair (along with trusted drummer Mick) gradually won the crowd over with foot tapping versions of London Girls, Gertcha and Margate.
Any lingering doubts I may have still had about Chas ‘n’ Dave’s ability to entertain were spectacularly answered with crowd pleasing renditions of Rabbit, Snooker Loopy and Ain’t No Pleasing You.
Leaving the stage the cockney legends were mobbed by a delighted crowd, most of whom looked like they had had a thoroughly good knees-up.