I REMEMBER the Woodstock festival. Three days of peace, music and love. Almost half a million people. Countless bands … pretty much all the top performers of the day. Richie Havens bringing the crowd together with Freedom, Santana whipping them into a frenzy with wild Latin rhythms, Jimi Hendrix literally reinventing America in front of the glazed eyes of a generation Star Spangled Banner.

A generation joining together, escaping the city by creating their own city. And then there was the mud. Mud baths, mud slides, mud everywhere and the chant went up: no rain, no rain, no rain.

I was pretty comfortable watching the action. It was the George Cinema in Troon. A midnight ­showing if memory serves (which, to be honest, it might not). To my young eyes it was absolutely ­glorious, and not just because of the music. Here was a ­generation ­forming its own music, its own counter culture, sharing ­ideals, drugs and dreams. It was utopia ­taking shape in the form of a festival.

So the following year I was sitting on a bale of hay in a barn at Kilmardinny in Bearsden looking for my own festival utopia. It wasn’t quite the same.

There were only a couple of hundred people there for a start. We were listening to a bombastic Scottish band called Beggars Opera and waiting for the headliners, Mungo Jerry, fresh from their chart triumph with In the Summertime.

It was a very long way from Jimi Hendrix but the journey in search of that festival experience had to start somewhere … and this was the one event my parents would actually let me attend because I could stay the night at my aunt’s, who lived nearby.

Months later – or maybe months after, who can truly be certain? – I’d suffer the ignominy of having to leave an Edgar Broughton Band gig at the Maryland club in Glasgow before the band had even hit the stage because I was under STRICT instructions to catch the last train home.

So actually Mungo Jerry might not have been my first choice but getting to see any band at a festival until the very end was a rare treat which I vowed there and then I would repeat many, many times. And I did.

I’ve been soaked at Glastonbury, busted at ­Reading, bored out my box at Blackbushe, knackered at ­Knebworth, trashed at Tribal Gathering, driven wild at Wickerman, and survived more T in the Parks than I care to mention.

Then last year it all stopped. Well, everything that stopped. But for some of us it was being deprived of live music that hurt the most and the wait for its ­return has been the longest.

It was festivals I missed most. Some people ­eulogise the small intimate gig, remembering in awe discovering performers in dank basements before the big time beckoned.

I’ve seen the Rolling Stones in Green’s Playhouse, Bob Marley at the Rainbow, Bob Dylan at the ­Barrowlands. I’ve stumbled on the Proclaimers along with 50 other people in a Kilmarnock Bar.

But at heart I’ve always been a big gig guy. There’s something about being in a massive crowd when a performance catches fire. There’s something about the seductive power of massive hit following ­massive hit, being caried away by a supersize singalong, ­feeling the energy feed from the audience to the ­performers and back again, each pushing the other to almost transcendental peaks.

If the loss of regular gigs has stripped us of the ­pleasures of more intimate spontaneous acts of ­creation, the absence of festivals had left us bereft of the spiritual benefits of sharing a unique and ­transformational form of mass communion.

OK, that might perhaps be an idealistic view in the modern world. Does the festival continue to offer spiritual sustenance to a communal ­culture or is it simply and giant example of the commercialisation of culture which has no deeper message than serving as a temple to the ability to make lorryloads of money?

Certainly festival going in the ­modern world has become a rite of passage for successive generations. It’s a way of ­celebrating summer with your mates by getting off your face listening to whatever act is coining it in this year. As Paul ­Simon wrote, “Every generation throws a hero up the pop charts”.

Fame is circular and transient and youth is fleeting. It’s ridiculous to look for spiritual meaning at events sponsored by alcohol brands and where successive waves of the managerial class gather to come of age. Festivals have been staged for years and have been changing ­during all those years without ever changing the world. Joni Mitchell’s dreams of ­“bombers turning into butterflies above our nation” have come to nothing. The Woodstock generation have waged war and ­slaughtered thousands. Arms ­dealers make ­millions, women are abused, ­fascism ­survives and mutates.

We know it’s only rock’n’roll even if most of us like hip hop better these days.

Yet while all this is true I can’t quite find it in myself to dismiss festivals as simply meaningless parties for pissheads.

My only brush with actually performing at a festival came when I somehow ended up managing the Sunday Herald Band (none of whom could actually play but that was the point. It’s a long story). The experience stays with me to this very day, particularly the stage manager’s ­admonition that he had less trouble with Beyonce.

I was altogether happier on the other side of the stage. I can remember the Pet Shop Boys sending a tent at T in the Park into the stratosphere with a hi-energy ­disco set which united a crowd of ­teenagers and grandparents, dancing dads and Lady Gaga Little Monsters, ­metal moshers and gentle Cavetown swooners in a wave of euphoria.

At the same festival I’ve seen people hug each other in happiness to the Chemical Brothers, Kylie win over goth fans and Leftfield turn a field into the Hacienda.

None of these will eradicate world ­hunger and establish a kinder, fairer ­economic system but they are not ­nothing.

The event which best represents the tension between clinging on to at least some of the values of a counter culture while operating in the world of high finance and middle-class gentrification remains the Glastonbury Festival.

Its roots are in the hippie movement and yet it now forms an essential part of the summer for the middle classes. So deeply has it been subsumed into the ­establishment that the BBC provides wall to wall coverage for three days every year.

The first Glastonbury festival was held at Michael Eavis’s dairy farm in Somerset in September 1970 – the day after Jimi Hendrix died. It lasted for just one day and tickets cost £1, which also ­covered some milk from the farm. Headliners were supposed to have been the Kinks but they didn’t turn up and the slot was instead taken by Marc Bolan and ­T-Rex.

The “crowd” numbered just 1500. ­Pictures of the event capture the ­innocence of the age. The festival ­celebrated the ­values of peace and love at a time when the emerging counterculture was challenging the establishment, the sexual mores of the day and the drug laws.

Although it seemed a celebration of the 1960s counterculture, Glastonbury was always as much about money as alternative politics. Eavis admitted at the time he staged the festival to clear his overdraft, something the low turnout signally failed to help him achieve.

Clearly that failure didn’t put him off and Glastonbury today still combines an alternative philosophy with a need to bring in considerable sums of cash, a ­festival with a healing field, stalls ­selling crystals and natural highs with huge ­fences keeping non-ticket holders out.

THESE days the festival is a temporary city with more than 200,000 residents. It features the biggest bands on the planet on a bewildering number of stages. It’s probably the nearest thing to heaven as any place on earth.

Before the pandemic music festivals became ubiquitous. Folk festivals, jazz festivals, dance festivals, world music, electronic weirdness, fetivals in the desert and festivals on the beach. In Scotland

T in the Park towered over events as Loch Lomond, Drumlanrig Castle, Dumfries, Inverurie, Rouken Glen, Glasgow Green … the list is endless.

And then it stopped. More than a year of silence fuelled fears that maybe it was over forever.

This summer though, the music ­festival finally coming back. The Courteneers, ­Little Simz, Liam Gallagher, Primal Scream, the Chemical Brothers, and Snow Patrol – among others – at ­Trnsmt on September 10-12; The Libertines, James, Orbital , Culture Club, Chic and others at Playground from September 24 -26. It’s almost possible to feel the crowd’s euphoria already.

Festivals have come along way. There are only hints of any countercultural roots, hardly any suggestion of an alternative political movement … but they still offer a glimpse of a world where music, dancing, togetherness and love are more important than greed, division and hate.

They still suggest that sharing joy with thousands of people you have never met is part of what it means to be human and the hunger to do so cannot be eradicated even by an illness. And yes, I know how idealistic that sounds. I don’t care. We can still be stardust. We can still be golden.

Even if we can only get ourselves back to the garden after a double vaccination and wearing a face-mask indoors.

We spoke with Ashleigh Elliott, marketing director of the Playground Festival, to get her thoughts on the sector...

What do you think festivals contribute to our culture?
FESTIVALS contribute massively to culture across all areas of Scottish life. We very much punch beyond our weight in Scotland – we offer an incredibly diverse range of festivals serving up everything from whisky or fine food to stellar international music megastars, or quirky little folk or trad events. 

We at Playground Festival are very proudly Scottish and that diversity and love of ALL culture is at the heart of everything we do. We love showcasing our country and the immense talent that exists here, from food and drink with our craft beer and food, to rising stars in music and arts who we showcase too.
Scotland has a massively rich culture and we feel it’s our duty to not only contribute to that culture but to showcase it to a wider audience.

What would your ideal festival look like (in terms of different stages, genres, food, site, added extras)?
PRETTY much like Playground Festival to be honest. I am very, very proud of what we do – I love our park, it’s the perfect site. Of course you need a big line-up and we deliver that with massive international acts … but personally I love the little touches we add to make our festival so eclectic and unique. The food trucks, the kids area, the surprises we have lined up for this year. 

We are unlike any other festival in Scotland and we want to show off the very best our country has to offer in every way. It’s all about the experience – that’s what makes festivals special. 

It’s a coming together of a new community for a weekend, a family – that’s what we have at Playground.

What makes a great festival band?
A TRULY great festival band is one that can appeal to as many different crowds as possible, so they attract the widest audience of the weekend. For example we believe Culture Club will fit that bill to perfection, with everything from Karma Chameleon lovers to young kids who adored Boy George’s collab with Mark Ronson.

But the daddy of them all is, of course, Nile Rodgers and Chic. Nile is the definition of a perfect festival act. His set takes in all the artists he has worked with over the years so everything from his own band’s music to Madonna and much more.

A great festival band is one that crosses generations and genres and gives people….Good Times.

How will it feel to be back in a field/park listening to music?
WE CANNOT WAIT. We have that tingly nervous energy, the butterflies, everything. It’s like the buzz for a big weekend out when you were just starting out, but multiplied.
We think the third summer of love is coming and we hope to kick start it at Playground. For so long we have been cooped up, isolated from our friends and loved ones, and to be part of a community in that park all in the moment listening to our favourite artists will be – wow. Quite spiritual I think.

What’s your personal best Playground experience?
I THINK it has to be Hot Chip in year one. It was mind-blowing and something that everyone who was there still talks about. Just insane. No wonder the Hot Chip footage went viral after the show. If there was any band in the world we could book to headline Playground then it would be the Beastie Boys so Hot Chip giving Rouken Glen Park their take on Sabotage had to be the highlight

And at any other festival?
NOW that is tough. I think Grace Jones at Dimensions festival in Croatia a few years back – she is an icon and just totally unique. One of the things I love about festivals is the universal feel. It doesn’t matter what language you speak, everyone connects through the performers when the line-up is right.

Do you think festivals have become a necessary rite of passage for young people?
ONE hundred per cent, it’s the first time away from the folks for many teenagers, whether it’s for a day or for weekend, camping or otherwise.
Our festival is very eclectic so while we do welcome the young team, our crowd is generally a little more experienced in all things festival fun. We know how to party but we want nice toilets, bars and houmous on tap please!

Playground Festival will be held at Rouken Glen Park near Glasgow on Friday September 24, Saturday September 25 and Sunday September 26
www.playgroundfestival.co.uk/

We also spoke with Geoff Ellis, chief executive of DF Concerts

What do you think festivals contribute to our culture?
YOU can listen to recorded music at home but it is better live. It is that shared experience. 

If our industry survives – and things need to open up if it is to survive – the future is still going to really solid because that’s what people have missed, this coming together in a shared experience.

Festivals enhance that. It’s not dissimilar to football and rugby matches.   

As human beings we need that joy and that shared experience and it is really good for our mental health and wellbeing.

Now that we are coming down the mountain from Covid we can now start to think about going back to live music again and that will improve the health of the nation. Studies have proven  proven by studies that live music  and enjoying music is good for your mental health and therefore your physical health as well. Everyone has really missed that.

What would your ideal festival look like (in terms of different stages, genres, food, site, added extras)?
I THINK that depends on your mood. Sometimes I prefer it if it’s easy to get to, you can get off the train and walk to the festival site and enjoy it and go home or whatever afterwards and still get the full festival experience.

Personally, I’m not a big camping fan, although I really get why people enjoy camping at festivals, particularly when it’s boutique camping in a yurt or something like that. 
For me the voyage of discovery at a festival is very important, when you find unexpected things. At the Connect  festival which we used to stage you had Red Bull doing an event in the woods. It was on at 3am and it felt like you had discovered an illegal rave.

If all you want to see at TRNSMT are the headliners and you don’t want to move from the main stage that’s great – I understand that. 

But other people want to go off and do the voyage of discovery and meet people and that and that’s all there too. I’ve gone down to the smaller Smirnoff stage and people have been there for hours. They might be missing the bands on the main stage but they’re in their moment, dancing in the trees. 

I like the fact you can wander off and get into interesting conversations with people you met waiting for your spicy king prawns or whatever it is.
 
What makes a great festival band? 
SOMEONE who doesn’t try to be to obscure. 

The main thing is you don’t play a festival and play all your new songs. A lot of people in that audience are not your core fans. Give them some of the hits and some of your back catalogue. Obviously play new material as well but balance it.  

We put on Radiohead at Glasgow Green years ago and it was raining. They hadn’t been playing Creep for years but they played it as an encore that night because the audience had been standing in the rain. Everyone went crazy. That was a recognition of giving people a bit of what they want.

How will it feel to be back in a field/park listening to music? 
I KNOW how it felt going down to the Blossoms gig in Liverpool – the first non socially distanced gig for over a year last month. It was really emotional, partly because I was seeing lots of people from the industry that I hadn’t seen for over a year and they’re all in the same boat.

I think I’ll just have the biggest smile on my face when I see that crowd in Glasgow Green because that’s the buzz I get off it. It’s not so much watching the bands … it’s watching the audience and how they react to the bands.  That’s what gets me.

What’s your personal best experience at one of your own festivals?
WHEN New Order were headlining the Radio One/NME stage at T in the Park and Brandon Flowers was standing next to me reading the lyrics of Cystal. I though he was a huge fanboy but then he was given a mic and ran on to the stage and sang the song with them. Then I had to get him out the gates when they had finished  because he couldn’t fit into New Order’s vehicle. 

We only had a couple of minutes to get through the gates before they closed as the crowd was heading for the campsite. I threw my coat over him because he had a white jacket on and looked very much like the lead singer of The Killers and said right we’ll go through the crowd to the gates. Some people recognised him and were trying to hug him but we made it through and he was so happy.

Another highlight was watching The Who play T in the Park. I had put so much effort into looking after Pete Townsend when he was at the festival when his girlfriend Rachel Fuller was on the bill in 2005. We got The Who to headline the festival the following year. At the end of the set Townshend and Roger Daltry were smiling and told the crowd it had been better than Woodstock.

And at any other festival?
THERE was a lot about the Fuji Rock festival in Japan that I loved. I loved the recycling that was done. You would put the lid of the bottle into one recycling bin, the bottle in another and the label into another. That just blew my mind.

Then, I remember being at the Lowlands Festival in Holland. I’m eating some sushi – as you do – and sitting by the lake. There was this classical music playing and then I hear this opera singer and I realise she’s floating on a lilipad being pulled along by four swimmers dressed as lizards or something. It was beautiful and I’m like … what’s in this sushi because I’m tripping here. 

Do you think festivals have become a necessary rite of passage for young people?
YES … but I think now because the original rock’n’roll generation has got older – they are in their 60s and 70s now and I think that desire of being in a festival environment hasn’t really gone away -  festival audiences are more eclectic and certainly span the generations more than ever before. 

T in the Park was definitely a rite of passage for some but there were people who had been going to it for 10 or 15 years … that’s not a rite of passage for them it’s just their annual holiday.

The TRNSMT festival will be held at Glasgow Green from Friday, September 10 until Sunday, September 12. www.trnsmtfest.com