Midway through the festival, the Spectator’s website published a bonkers article headlined “Glastonbury wouldn’t survive under a Corbyn government”. In it, the writer conjured up a dystopian fantasy more berserk than anything you might find yourself listening to in the small hours at the Stone Circle. Chief among the dire presentiments was the suggestion that the ascension of Labour to power would result in Radiohead ceasing touring and instead taking up a residency at a Las Vegas resort.
The image of Thom Yorke serenading Sin City’s high rollers with a rousing chorus of Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors was mind-boggling, but you could see why some press went on the offensive. Politicians have been turning up to Glastonbury for years, but this year the leader of the opposition was among the most hotly anticipated attractions: when he arrived on site, his Land Rover was mobbed by fans. In fact, it was hard to escape Corbyn: if Glastonbury 2017 had an unofficial anthem, it was his name sung to the tune of the White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army.
You heard “oh, Jeremy Corbyn” everywhere: at the silent disco, during Radiohead’s Friday night headlining set, midway through the Other stage appearance by rapper Stormzy, who gamely joined in. When Corbyn finally gave a speech – in a stunning piece of billing that could only happen at Glastonbury, he appeared between hip-hop duo Run the Jewels and Southampton’s foremost R&B loverman Craig David – the crowd brought the entire area around the Pyramid stage to a standstill: in some of its furthest reaches, you occasionally got the sense that some people were eager for him to stop talking so they could get on with the more pressing business of singing “oh, Jeremy Corbyn”.