Paul Chowdhry / Jeff Green

Phil Kay hasn't turned up, for reasons unknown and compère Malcolm Hardy is using the c-word (and it isn't 'comedy') to goad us into considering him subversive and amusing, although neither of which is the case. Asian comic Paul Chowdhry is getting a lot of attention of late and played 10 minutes earlier on in the day, but desperation to stick to a rigid time slot has meant that he's either been pushed or has volunteered to fill the gap, and the crowd are none too kind about it. Chowdhry has an edge that actually makes one sit up and take notice. He's not as contrived as the Goodness Gracious Me brigade, he's a satirically sharp and well observed second-generation Anglo-Indian and he can get away with taking the piss out of Al Q'uaida and the Taliban, simply because, well, because he can. Normally. Tonight though, he experienced dying on his arse and there cant have been many mellow festival goers that didn't experience a little bit of heartbreak for him up there. It's a shame as he's normally very good, having seen him take Up The Creek Too in his confident stride two months ago and wipe the floor with people with 3 or 4 times his level of experience. Shame that. Jeff Green though, at least has the benefit of an audience that predominantly want to see him. "Tell Phil Kay, next time to do his f***ing gig properly!" he yells to a polite cheer, but that's around as offensive as Jeff gets. He's not here to slag people off, he's far more comfortable making us laugh at and with him. The vibes of peaceful togetherness and the community spirit of Glastonbury are not lost on Jeff. We may all be a global family, all at one with the world and loving everything in it, as the Glasto experience demands, but Jeff's got his teeth stuck into the more awkward and embarrassingly personal level of interpersonal life. Sex, getting pissed, punishing yourself by being 'on holiday', digital manipulation with chilli-sauce covered fingers and yes, the old stalwort of relationships with the opposite sex, whether it's just laughing with the futility of it all or just playing for a cheap knob gag. I like knob gags though, so no harm done there, as he doesn't take himself too seriously and rarely labours a point just because he's hit a rich seam from which to mine from. It's essentially safe stuff though. Not one person could ever consider him outrageous (except perhaps your granny) but he's left all that amateur shite to people like Malcolm Hardy. He's a clever and attentively aware man is Jeff, and Glastonbury fits him like an old pair of crusty festival pants. Nice one. Words by Paul Mills