﻿1
12 years ago, I picked up a camera
and started to film Roy Gurvitz.
He was the driving force behind Lost Vagueness,
the festival within the festival
and the invention which saved Glastonbury.
I knew he was a winner, you see.
I supported him right from the word go.
The Lost Vagueness thing was very good.
He brought this incredible element
to the festival, which was this partying,
this Lost Vagueness and everything that it brought in
and all the tribes involved in it.
It was just amazing.
It was providing an excitement
that had to be there.
Without it, Glastonbury probably would've died.
I thought Glastonbury was quite out there,
and yet someone within Glastonbury
was running something even more out there.
There was something about the chaos that he loved
and stoked and celebrated
and actually that's kind of one of the things
that made it brilliant.
But it wasn't possible to carry on like that.
We nearly destroyed ourselves and each other.
Whoa!
Glastonbury is one of the most famous festivals
in the world
and now much more than a music festival.
Roy is one of the people who helped change this.
We weren't selling the tickets like we should've done.
It wasn't a sellout situation.
So I thought, "What can I do to put out something different?"
And Roy was doing the ballroom dancing
and hiring in the gowns and stuff.
‐ Hi, Roy. ‐ Hi. How are you doing?
Thank you for allowing us into your oasis of civilization.
You're welcome.
Ballroom dancing. Why?
Well, it's s just an excuse to get people dressed up
and have a bit of fun and have a laugh.
Most of the people that come in here do want to take part.
Michael, big fan of ballroom dancing?
Not really, no.
I announced it to the world and it went everywhere,
Australia, America.
We sold the last of the tickets
because of the ballroom dancing story.
Extraordinary, wasn't it?
So I really feel I owe Roy a favor
because of the ballroom dancing thing.
Roy's eight and a half years younger than me.
He got all the love because he was a baby.
My father had a really, really bad temper.
When he was in a good mood, he could be a lot of fun,
he was always singing and playing games,
but he had a dark side.
This'll give you an idea of what my father was like.
That's my mum, and you can see how beautiful she was.
And that was my dad. Can you see?
With the gold chain, and very clean,
very smart, very dapper.
Now, I never discussed politics or religion
ever with my father.
But for some reason, Roy,
this is when he was a lot older, when he was a teenager,
started arguing about... I think it was about religion,
and Roy stormed out and said,
"I hope I never see you again as long as I live."
And that was when he cut himself off from everybody.
'Cause I never saw him for 20 years. Neither did my mum.
Every year they become more visible.
Every summer more and more young people opt for what they see
as the freedom of life on the open road.
But what they encounter is the hostility of local residents
and the attention of the police who regularly move them on
from sites that they're occupying illegally.
I'm a county court bailiff. I'm here from...
I did go and try and make my own way in life,
and I suppose if home life had been better,
I would've carried on living at home.
I left at the end of the '70s and you'd got the miner strike,
the whole traveler thing, I lived on the road,
there was the squatting thing going on, Margaret Thatcher.
I'm only too delighted to do anything we can
to make life difficult for such things as hippie convoys.
I've been beaten up by the police, I've been arrested,
thrown out of squats, had vehicles taken,
do you know what I mean, this whole sense of
it all just seems really unfair.
Roy was a traveler, you know, in the '80s,
and he was kind of a gang leader type.
Travelers were always a massive part of the festival.
But from a child's perspective, 'cause I was about 10 or 11,
there were elements of it which were a little bit unsettling.
Well, I met Roy, I'd just gone on the road,
thrown away all my bricks and mortar existence
and bought a truck and was just living in that,
and we were coming down to Glastonbury,
and Roy came sort of shambling up,
and he hadn't got a vehicle or anything then
and he wanted to be my hitchhiker.
She just sort of dropped me off
and threw me out in the middle of a field
and then left me there and drove off,
which is kind of, you know, it's what women do, isn't it?
He'd never been to Glastonbury before.
But I will say he did manage to blag us in somehow.
He's quite kind of verbose, isn't he,
and he's got a lot to say, he's got a lot of ideas,
and everything's wrong and all that.
I have memories of just watching my dad and Roy interact,
and it was, like, mostly funny and also quite aggressive.
There were times when I was, like,
"I think he's talking the piss out of you."
He was kind of troublesome, but on the other hand
I thought I could deal with this bloke,
and he became a link for us,
between me and the travelers, really.
Things were really good for a while
and then there were all the riots in 1990.
We just wanna go somewhere!
Glastonbury had become...
effectively out of control.
There were Molotov cocktails
being thrown outside the window
and kind of telegraph poles coming towards us,
and that was really scary at that point.
I got taken up to my granny's house,
which was up at the top of the road,
and all I could see were ambulances just coming out.
I was, like, "What's going on down there?"
It felt like the end of the world.
It had to change 'cause it was fucking horrible.
It was violent, it was nasty, it was...
Yeah, it was either gonna die a death
or something major... major had to happen.
Michael asked me
whether I would come and help him
sort of restructure the festival.
And I took on the responsibility
of having the entertainment license
and... and running the festival, effectively.
I just started telling people
we need to get a lot more creative
if we want this to continue,
making it presentable and changing the look
from being quite crusty and aggressive,
you know, everyone's wearing paramilitary clothing.
Wanker.
We had such a bad reputation.
We were, like, really getting slagged off everywhere.
Everyone called us crusties.
The fucking press used to shit on Glastonbury.
It was, like, mud‐hell crusty city.
A few years later we came up with the idea of
why don't we just wear dicky bows and tuxedos and ballgowns,
put the men in women's clothes?
And it altered everything.
It made everything entirely different.
The same people, but suddenly people were going, "Wow."
And out of that was born Lost Vagueness.
♪ You're doing me right
♪ It's a perfect night...
I'd been doing bars there
for 10 years before Lost Vagueness even started,
and I just thought, yeah, we'll do a cafe
with a... with a casino behind it.
And it was only half a dozen of us and a roulette table
and we made it look like there was a whole casino going on.
Everybody wanted to get in there.
So the following year we put it up and we let people in.
And that was a big mistake.
To let people in? It was packed. Oh, alright.
No, no, no, you're missing the point.
It worked beautifully as this illusionary space
that didn't really exist that people could see.
Once you let them in, the magic's over, isn't it?
It's like showing someone...
showing someone how to do a magic trick.
The magic's gone.
But... Well, it was for me,
but it... obviously it carried on, as you well know.
After the success of the ballroom and the casino,
Lost Vagueness became the official after‐party
in Glastonbury.
I found them all in various asylums up and down the country,
asked them if they'd like to come out for the day
and a lot of them said yes.
Look at the back of that lorry. Look how well packed it is.
How long does it take to plan?
I suppose a good six months
of solidly concentrating on this particular event.
You've got the to‐do list, I take it.
‐ I met Roy when I was 17. ‐ Yeah.
That's a fucking long time ago.
♪ I like cake and no mistake
♪ But, baby, if you insist
♪ I'll cut out cake
♪ Just for your sake
♪ Baby, come on Knock me a kiss...
I'd been doing a cabaret called the Velvet Tip Saloon.
Roy asked us to do a sort of exotic weird cabaret thing.
It started off just being, like, a £5 gazebo from Argos
with some fabric hanging up in it.
People were starting their own little interesting side projects
which all ended up being the sum total of Lost Vagueness.
I've got to put together the guest list,
which is, as usual, enormous,
and help Netty
and then get changed into
a really brilliant costume.
The whole night is about Leila's costume.
‐ Come on, what is...? ‐ No, I can't tell you.
‐ It's in that suitcase. ‐ Oh, Leila.
Just do a baby preview. We can shut the door, lock it.
I can't, because, do you know what, it will...
it's so exciting, you're just gonna peak too early
and the whole rest of the night
will be a massive disappointment.
It's really thrilling being part of something.
When you sit down and you talk about your life,
you talk about the interesting bits,
not, like, I'm really fulfilled, I'm a mother, you know.
You just say, like, I once did this ridiculous thing,
listen to this story, you know,
and invariably they're all about Lost Vagueness.
I was constantly amazed by Roy's ability to rope in
this incredible array of creative people
who turned Lost Vagueness from a small corner of Glastonbury
into a massive subculture of its own.
I started DJing in the casino
and Roy said, "I really want everyone to play classic."
I said, "Well, what about jazz?"
"Let's go with jazz, shall we?"
It was high time there was an alternative
to rave and repetitive beats.
We were all sick to death of that.
Lost Vagueness encouraged me to look back
to what people were raving to in the '20s.
What were they raving to in the '30s?
All this really wonderful music became completely relevant
to the space and the look and costumes,
and you weren't allowed in there
unless you looked incredibly theatrical.
I went along and I used to just kind of sleep
and go into the casino about five o'clock in the morning.
And I just thought, "This place needs dancing girls."
That was the start of the infamous can‐can girls,
the face of Lost Vagueness.
People thought I was crazy dealing with Roy.
All my team said, "Why do you put up with all that grief?"
and all that sort of thing, and I said,
"Because he does a good show, you see."
This is Lost Vagueness,
the field of Roy.
Yeah, they're all done by folk, really.
It's quite edgy. It's quite sort of...
‐ Does it feel more... ‐ Roy!
‐ You made it in the end. ‐ How are you?
You're looking very, very smart. A typical traveler.
He's been dressed up posh like this.
‐ People, welcome to the casino. ‐ Hello.
That's nice, little pink number.
Have you not got a shirt... a tie on, young man?
‐ No, I haven't. ‐ Fasten yourself up.
It's a good job you're sexy. Go on. That's nice.
I met Roy at an exhibition,
and I were just gobbing off at somebody.
He says, "You're just what I need."
It's a good laugh, but the mud's no good in stilettos.
It's a bit of a nightmare.
Somebody said you could get dressed up
and... I thought that was an entertaining idea, so here I am.
- ‐ This is a little big. - ‐ Wear a dress.
Men in dresses are much sexier than men in suits.
Show me a dress I could fit into.
‐ There you go. ‐ Ladies and gentlemen...
I didn't exactly expect this.
Where the fuck did you get that?
‐ Let your hair down. ‐ Hair down. Hair down, darling.
Hair down.
Oh, my God. Now I'm getting styled.
Now look at the camera, baby.
I snogged two blokes last night,
and as a, you know, bona fide, confirmed straight guy,
I'm a bit worried
that Lost Vagueness is having a bit too much influence on me.
All the transsexuals and all that, it just kind of burst.
‐ The gay scene has arrived. ‐ It's so lovely to see that.
♪ I spent my life exploring
♪ The subtle whoring
♪ That cost too much to be free
♪ Hey, baby I've been to paradise
♪ But I've never been to me ♪
I think it's a bit too wild, really, it's a bit risky.
It's too naughty, if you like, you know.
That's what makes it so exciting, though.
My name is Silas P. Love Truth
and these are my sisters of perpetual indulgence,
and we are here at the Chapel of Love and Loathing
in Lost Vagueness,
ready to marry you in unholy matrimony.
Whoo!
We're trying to have a special fucking moment here, OK?
Ladies and gentlemen, it could happen to you.
Love is all around, baby. Love is all around.
‐ Oh, my God, my pussy! ‐ Meow.
My pussy's returned. Meow!
It's brilliant, this changing room.
I came in as a dog and ended up like this.
I think I married someone in Lost Vagueness.
Not married them. I performed the ceremony, I think.
‐ In the chapel. ‐ Was it a pantomime horse?
I don't think I married the pantomime horse.
No, you... Were you not the pantomime horse?
You didn't want too many people recognizing you.
Ah, yes, that's right.
At this point in the proceedings
I'm supposed to invite our friend Keith Allen...
On stage to perform World In Motion with us.
You didn't mention the horse.
For me, in those early days of Lost Vagueness,
it was providing an excitement that had to be there.
You were in a position where we would have
120,000 people in the festival generally
and then the music'd finish at midnight
and pretty much 120,000 people
then wanted to go to Lost Vagueness.
♪ Do it again, now
♪ One step beyond
♪ Step, step, step
♪ One step beyond
♪ Yes, I do
♪ Ooh
♪ One step beyond...
I thought they were for the parents to wear,
so you couldn't hear the children.
But, actually, they are for the children,
so they can't hear the parents, that's what it is.
We didn't know where he was.
We tried with the missing persons bureau.
They put things on Ceefax.
And they put something in The Big Issue,
and the people from The Big Issue said
three women had phoned up and said,
"Yes, we know Roy. He's at Glastonbury." Blah, blah, blah.
I thought, "What am I gonna do, go into Glastonbury",
I've never been there, walking round in the mud
"and looking for him, with thousands of people?"
I thought, "How would I ever find him?"
Had I known if I would have gone there and said to anyone,
"Where's Roy, Roy Gurvitz?", I would've found him.
This is my... This is my friend Gary "The Dog" Davis.
Hello, everybody. Are you having a nice day?
He's the... You're the apology party candidate for Wales.
I certainly am, and I'd like to apologize for coming from Wales
and living there for most of my life.
The other thing you need to,
well, not necessarily apologize for but rectify,
your pink tent's rather baggy.
‐ Is it? ‐ Yeah.
What I loved about Lost Vagueness
was that every year there were new worlds to discover,
places where creatives invited you
to stumble into brilliantly eccentric universes.
We have exhibits that go right back
to show how the circus was in Roman times.
Bonny is a butterfly trainer, but I'm not a butterfly trainer.
I have, as everybody can, trained ladybirds,
like you do when you're a child, ladybirds and woodlice.
But butterfly training is much more complicated.
Only women can train butterflies,
and they're best if they're hand‐reared.
I don't train butterflies now because it's illegal.
I have been to Glastonbury
and I was so struck by the fact
that people were putting so much love
into making a space so that I could be comfortable.
Then I met Roy and Roy said, "I'm going to Glastonbury."
And I was, like, "Well, if you need a hand, give us a shout."
‐ When was this? ‐ 2002.
There were people doing things
that I had already written about,
'cause my work, when I was at art school,
was about multi‐room installations
with performers and audience interactions
and moving through spaces rather than around objects.
And these guys were doing it without thinking about it.
It was a really amazing time,
because we were all of a certain age, you know,
in our early 30s and, you know, I'd do three shows a night
and I'd be, like, coming on after Madness
and finish playing to, you know,
a room of, like, 2,000 people in the ballroom.
Lost Vagueness really gave a platform
to expose a lot of edgy and experimental work
to a more mainstream audience.
It was a thing that appealed to me
and I found it very empowering
and it kind of shocked my feminist sensibilities
in a... in a good way, you know.
I felt like I was a really emancipated woman,
and so to see someone undress on stage,
it was kind of difficult but then brilliant.
There was, you know, loads of tattoos,
people were all different sizes,
and piercings and all that kind of stuff,
and I kind of felt like they're reclaiming the female form.
Everyone who's involved in it
feels like a performer to some extent, so, you know...
from the person working behind the bar,
to people who are just in there to,
you know, the people who run it.
We all kind of get slightly into character.
As soon as start putting a costume on,
you know, you're leaving yourself
and that's a really freeing thing to do.
Here in the Lost Vagueness tent,
we're very nice people with multi‐bang sexy dick.
It's good times.
I have a toy which I like to bring
called a Love Tub.
Come and have a look.
‐ Whoo! ‐.
They take off all their clothes
and, whoa, look what happens to my schlong.
It goes crazy for the love and I have to beat it with a hammer.
Flicky, flicky, flicky.
Wow, I get so hard, I am electric. It's very nice.
But it's for the people who work very hard,
like the artists and the prostitutes who we bring.
So if you want to come have nice time,
come Lost Vagueness in the Love Tub.
Strangely liberated.
I've always felt like
there's a sort of inner bumble bee in me,
and I've always wanted to do that.
I figured the only place I'd get away with it was Lost Vagueness.
♪ With your help turn you on With your help turn you on
♪ With your help turn you on With your help turn you on...
I remember in the midst of the bumble‐bee night,
having a kind of revelation.
You know, I thought Glastonbury was quite out there,
and yet someone within Glastonbury
was running something even more out there.
Oh, no! Get out! That's not fair.
This is my changing room.
Roy had a French G‐string.
It's a once‐only occurrence.
Timmy, go and look.
Oh, alright, then. Go on, then.
That's as much as you're gonna get.
You alright?
Good night?
Go away.
I thought you wanted me. I thought you wanted me so much.
It wasn't like that in the Jacuzzi.
You could go right into the roots of the anthropology
of what events do for humans
and why there's been festivals forever.
Sex is at the background of all of it.
It's kind of a bit like the night
before the atom bomb fell.
You know the world's gonna be over tomorrow,
you go down town and you see the first girl you like and go,
"Look, the world's gonna be over tomorrow. Let's make love."
That's quite an atmosphere to create,
not the world's gonna be over tomorrow
but that kind of, like, abandon.
And maybe the English have been kept in this hole for so long
that you open up a crack
and everyone goes crazy, and that's great.
Do you mind? I'm getting changed.
This Lost Vagueness, you know, it's a bit hedonistic.
It gets a bit crazy. We thought we'd be a bit of an antidote.
You come in to our lovely house,
get treated like you would do at your granny's.
We've got lots of services we provide, you know,
do someone's nails or makeup or trim someone's beard.
The Laundrettas started in 2003.
We were these kind of, like, really young, feisty feminists
that were, like, having a massive laugh.
We're just taking the look
of a sort of archetypal housewife character
and sort of revealing all those things that as a woman
you weren't really able to do back then.
I remember very clearly, I said to Roy,
"This is amazing and I can write about it."
And he went, "No one's gonna fund us,
bunch of crusty travelers."
"They hate us." Blah, blah, blah.
And I went, "I'm willing to give it a go."
We got a couple of grants and the first one enabled us
to turn it into a company,
increase the quality of the show,
get some other tours in place,
and the second one was a business development grant.
Now, thousands of music lovers are heading to Glastonbury
for this weekend's sellout festival.
And it seems this year the hoards of teenagers and students
are being joined by a larger 30‐something contingent.
It is the traditional.
Glastonbury experience,
wind, rain and unruly tents.
But this year there's an alternative.
Glastonbury posh.
The Lost Vagueness Hotel offers room service, champagne,
hot showers and a caravan.
How much is this costing a night?
- ‐ 600 pound for this. - ‐ For four of us.
‐ For four of us, yeah. ‐ Good value for money.
The clientele is perhaps a little older and richer
than the average festival goer,
but this is certainly a sign of how things are changing.
So this is the diner in 2003.
‐ Who's in that? ‐ Paul, Tash, Dieter.
Timmy in his youthful glow.
Gasmail. Legendary legend.
Joe Rush. So shiny, so handsome.
And then this chapel was such a huge part of Vagueness
and Vagueness's success,
and then the whole thing about Kate and Pete
getting married in the chapel
and then that spreading in the press
and leading to a lot of attention and stuff.
‐ Yeah, what was that? ‐ I think I might've made it up.
But it got out there
that they were having a marriage in the chapel,
and then that got in tons of papers and so forth
and actually gave the whole thing
a big reputational boost.
After a few years of success,
Lost Vagueness ventured beyond Glastonbury,
putting on events all over the country.
You didn't have to wait for the festival. It came to you.
Lost Vagueness was a cultural property
that everyone wanted a piece of.
How do you keep track of where everything is?
Well, that's the difficulty, see,
'cause at the moment it's mostly just me
that knows where everything is.
One‐hour call. 50 minutes.
Lost Vagueness would've cost millions
if you started charging proper money for it,
so even when there was vaguely proper money on the table,
you still could never get enough.
It's a miracle, innit? Look at it. It's great.
‐ Hello. There you are. ‐ Hello.
‐ I'm filming everything. ‐ No way.
Lovely to see you.
Right here. Right here. Step inside.
This man has the strangest affliction that you'll ever see.
The nights at the Coronet
cemented their influence
into mainstream culture
and they delighted in presenting acts
that would shock and challenge their expanding audiences.
Now, to be completely honest with you,
I'm not entirely sure what's gonna happen now.
We got someone coming up next for you.
I'm just gonna see how they're doing.
Oh, they look lovely and everything's good.
As we welcome, with a certain amount of trepidation,
the Pain Crew Circus.
There's a lot of different ideas,
even in the freak show thing.
The fact that I present myself in a very feminine way
is kind of my way of saying I am female,
but I am hardcore
and I can out‐scare most of you
and still wear stilettos.
I like shocking people.
When somebody throws up or passes out,
you know that they're not gonna forget that show.
Often afterwards, you know, they'll come round backstage
and thank you for doing a really great show.
I mean, you've really touched a nerve there.
You've really hit home to somebody.
I come off stage after having done the splits on broken glass
or been swinging from meat hooks in my back,
and the first thing I get asked is.
"Where do you get your lipstick?"
‐ Seriously? ‐ I'm not joking.
I'm not joking.
I get a lot of support from the female members of the audience.
They feel a little bit uplifted to see somebody
not sort of just flouncing around
and looking petite and demure.
I know that I grew up in the middle of nowhere,
in the countryside,
and I felt very, very isolated, and now I've found
so many like‐minded souls across the globe.
It's pleasant to know that you're not just weird,
just everyone's different.
It's important to encourage diversity,
even if it's just for...
just injecting a little bit of magic into somebody's day,
a little bit of wonder and delight
and childlike innocence.
You're sort of giving people
a little bit of their innocence back.
Or taking it away. Hmm.
One of our favorite perverted acts is banned at Vagueness,
called Mouse.
Is my mum gonna see this?
Uh, if it's on telly.
I'm not gonna say anything else.
I'm not saying anything about it.
You can't stop there.
‐ No. ‐ Tell us about Mouse.
No. I'm not saying a thing.
‐ Ask why she was banned. ‐ OK.
People were wet.
They needed their costumes dry‐cleaning.
It's really nice, 'cause we're still talking about it.
That's what I fucking love about it.
And everyone really remembers it,
and we've all, you know, kind of gone through it together.
But I was in the tech booth, and I've seen it before,
but she'd only done the anal... what's it called?
Where you put the water in your bum and... Enema.
That was her act before. The enema.
So I was, like, "Yay! Mouse is coming."
‐ She's developed it. ‐ She's much better at it now.
There's certain things, if you're doing an enema every day,
it's nearly every day that I do an enema, that you can't do.
You can't have a lot of bread. You can't have chili.
Mushy peas are a bit iffy.
And when I went and stood back with Giz, he was like,
"God, did she just do what I thought she did"?
And I was, like, "Yeah."
'Cause I thought, you know, it's Mouse now,
and I didn't see, but she'd eaten dog food
and then got someone in the audience and snogged him.
All of that was new.
I'm still doing a dog show, funny enough.
I was in West Bromwich last week,
and before that Blackpool, working for the army,
and they said, "Get that girl off stage!"
and were very upset and sent me home and...
Because, well, the sergeant major was being sick,
and I was only eating dog food.
It's not real dog food.
‐ Or is it? ‐.
It was me and Kirsty, "Shall we book Mouse?"
"Yeah, let's book Mouse." Do you know what I mean?
But I think she was meant to go on on Saturday night
and she was meant to be a bit earlier,
like, she was our last act, on Sunday,
which really looked like a statement.
To the wrong music. It was drum and bass.
It wasn't meant to be drum and bass.
It all looked a bit more hardcore
than it was meant to look.
Yeah.
Immediately, me, Kirsty,
Andy, Jim, Roy,
just went and shut ourself in the office
as soon as it had come off,
and we were like...
What's important about shocking people?
I'm not exactly sure, but that's kind of all I can do.
One person fainted. One person knocked me out.
She said, "How can you do that to your own body? Are you mad?"
"What's it all about? What's the message?"
I said, "There's no message, and it's my body."
"I can fist my arse if I want."
Some of the stuff that happens down there
is quite off the scale.
Stuff which I'm sure, you know, we don't know the half of it.
And I love the fact that you don't know the half of it.
That's the whole point. We shouldn't.
The problem is, right, is they've gone somewhere
and they didn't like it, right?
Which isn't really the same as saying,
"Oh, I went there and it was really poor,
really amateur, it wasn't done well."
"No one really cared about what the program..." It's nonsense.
Saying a DJ is poor quality...
‐ ‐ ...is just a real giveaway.
Voicemail box.
Yeah, I mean, it's subjective, isn't it?
You can't say, "I didn't like this."
It's pretty obvious that they've not been
to a Lost Vagueness event before.
The only thing that's a fact
that I can't disprove is it was cold,
and for that we can only apologize, you know.
If they've got a complaint about that, that's down to the...
It was never advertised as warm, was it?
The need to keep money coming in
meant Lost Vagueness was staging events
that couldn't have been further away
from their beginnings in a muddy field.
I was wondering if the original vision
was becoming compromised.
We went to a party on a boat outside the design museum.
We thought how well it was organized.
It was well thought out, quirky.
I'd never heard of Lost Vagueness then.
I tracked 'em down and they're here helping us out
with this taster event that we're doing here,
gonna carry on working with 'em.
Here's to a good working relationship
for the next 12 months, I hope.
‐ Cheers. And longer. ‐ It could be fun.
And longer. And longer.
Hey!
I thought there'd only be about 10% dressed up.
And they take it very serious. It's like a religion almost.
Are you contactable through Jeremy?
Uh, yeah. Do you want my...
I've got a card.
You've been friends with Roy for years.
Yeah, we've shared a lot of workshops together.
He's built quite a lot of stuff for different shows in my life.
He's been there a lot to help,
without needing massive financial reward,
just for the hell of it.
Things had reached a point with Lost Vagueness
where it's really hard to turn down offers
to do commercial things.
It certainly seemed to have leapt
from something that was here
and something that was experienced
in a kind of completely out there, free way,
it started appearing other places
kind of in a more corporate kind of setting.
I still really embrace things
that for me have a feeling
of depth and roots and anarchy and misbehavior.
A lot of the earlier stuff couldn't have happened
if the motivation had been
anything to do with making money.
Very different from the ethos
of people getting together in a field
and creating something that isn't everyday life.
For us, as anarchic people, it struck a great vein
to make money from rich people or people with a budget,
and to feed that budget back in to gigs
were the vibe was good, you know.
So, yeah, it kind of looked good on paper.
If the corporates had really seen
what Lost Vagueness actually was,
they wouldn't have wanted it.
What they thought it was
was what the Guardian,
the Glastonbury festival PR machine,
was saying it was.
And if we'd have gone, "Oh, yeah, well,"
it's a loads of dropouts from society,
a load of New Age travelers,
"and we'll come and do a party for you,"
they'd have run a bloody mile.
There you go.
Oh, that's delicious.
If you were wearing a suit with a bow tie and white shirt,
it's a really memorable, visible,
really delicious thing that people would remember.
It is lovely, but I think
that's a little bit too quirky and hippy‐ish.
Tell you what would be better, if it was him in a suit
with a little thing mixing up little martinis
and putting them on trays.
Yeah, but there'll be 20 people,
50 people doing that on other stalls.
There will be nobody doing that.
‐ Because it's not corporate. ‐ But it's memorable.
But we'll be shooting ourselves in the foot.
‐ Spending all this money... ‐ I disagree.
For all this work we're doing
and all this money we're spending,
we need to be aiming for the very top‐end clients.
‐ And they're not gonna go... ‐ But you can't have oysters.
‐ Who said oysters? ‐ That's high end, isn't it?
Yeah, well, blinis, or, like, you know...
What's a blini? I don't even know what a blini is.
What we were giving out at the Guardian night.
But they're boring. There'll be 20 people doing that.
There'll be 20 people going, "Oh, have a cocktail."
You're not letting the argument enter your head.
I have let the argument enter my brain
and I simply disagree.
I'm not saying you're completely wrong.
You're saying I'm completely wrong,
I don't know what I'm talking about,
corporates don't want that,
and that's not what I'm saying to you.
I'm saying it's interesting enough to give it a go.
It's something that people would remember.
One day I get a phone call from my cousin,
who is my dad's younger brother's daughter.
Another cousin,
from my dad's older brother's second marriage, had phoned her,
because his ex‐wife, who lives in Scotland,
was messing about on the computer
and put Roy's name into Google or whatever, you know.
And she said a whole site came up.
So she immediately phoned her daughter,
and she phoned me and said, "I think we've found Roy."
So I phoned the number and I spoke to him.
Just enough time had gone by,
and I think I knew that my father was on his way out,
and I just thought, well, maybe, you know,
maybe it's a good time to get back in touch, I don't know.
What was the amazing thing was that I could phone my mum
and say, "I've made contact with Roy. He's still alive."
Yeah, no, it was just so nice
that she got to be with him for a bit
before she died.
She never went to Glastonbury,
but we went to one of the festivals,
and she actually sang.
I think it rained there as well, didn't it?
‐ I think it did, yeah. ‐ It did, yeah.
Maybe it's just gigs that you come to.
Maybe we shouldn't come anymore.
And not only that.
We met all his children, apart from his son.
The three daughters.
But this was all after my dad had passed away.
Roy never saw my dad again.
Taking a few snippets over a 15‐year period,
when those films were made, yeah, it all looks lovely.
It's easy to do, you're not gonna film someone
having an argument, are you?
You'll only pick up the camera
when there's something nice going on.
Did you wanna be a different dad to your dad?
Very much so, yeah.
And I absolutely believe that I am.
In what way?
Um, I'm not... I'm not a demanding parent.
I'm not trying to make them be anything
that they don't want to be.
I'm not horrible. I don't think I'm horrible to them.
Who do you love, Mommy or Daddy, most?
‐ Daddy. ‐
‐ Well done, Lola. ‐ I didn't expect that.
‐ Classic. ‐.
Good girl, Lola.
She usually says, "Both."
I have to live my life, don't I?
I can't really live... live any differently than I do,
and... you know, and that's the example
that I'd like my children to live their lives by.
I think it's better to live your life courageously
and have near misses
than to live your life so safely
that it just becomes a pointless exercise.
Within no time at all,
Lost Vagueness seemed to be everywhere.
‐ Thank you. ‐ OK, guys. Hiya.
‐ Tickets? ‐ Yeah, we have got tickets.
One night I followed Roy
to the Erotic Review yearly awards.
Lost Vagueness had been nominated as best event.
Roy didn't have to think about why he's doing it.
He knows why he's doing it. Do you know what I mean?
That's, like... It's his thing.
I don't give a fuck about events.
I really don't. I hate events.
I'm not gonna go and work for an event company.
I could leave here and go and work for some events company
doing a £20 million party for Philip Green
on a private island.
Like, I'm... That... That's not what I'm about.
Fuck that, you know. Someone else can do it.
And they'll feel dirty, I swear to God,
when they walk away from it,
because there's not that much money in the fucking world
and you can't watch it be spunked up the wall
in stuff like that.
And cracking straight on,
the next award is Lost Vagueness.
‐ ‐ If they could come up, please.
Goodness gracious. What are you doing with that, Emma?
‐ Bloody hell. ‐ Where did that come from?
That evidently is what I've won.
What I've won. What Lost Vagueness has won.
1,256 people, millions of people,
they're all responsible for Lost Vagueness winning that.
Anyone that's ever been to Lost Vagueness,
liked it, voted for it, been there, worked at it.
Had a good time, there you go,
that is the combination of all their efforts.
I've been going through this whole philosophical argument
in the last week of, like, what I want my life to be,
and that involves Lost Vagueness
and whether I work for Lost Vagueness or not.
I think if I didn't work for Lost Vagueness...
And really, you know, also the question
of whether me and Roy stay friends is... comes into that.
I'm absolutely positive that I am integral
and that he appreciates me.
However, I've seen people be integral
and, you know, be valued, and I've seen him...
And it's not like he doesn't value them or appreciate them.
It's that he fucking turns from loving them to hating them.
In the meantime, I've actually gone and booked a different tent
because it wasn't available.
After three years of trying to be a business,
the pressure was taking its toll.
With the strain of putting on an event every six weeks
and 500 people to manage,
all the fun seemed to have gone.
I want the tent exactly where it is on the map that I drew
and that's where I want it.
People would call me up about work
at, like, two o'clock in the morning.
It was more like being in a massive gang.
We worked really hard and then we partied really hard
and then we worked really hard, and there was no, like,
"Hey, its Tuesday night. Maybe I should take it easy."
We have finished concert now.
We gonna have lovely party with Frosties. You like?
It wasn't possible to carry on like that.
We displayed that.
I can get you a letter
to say that we are guaranteed this money from Glastonbury,
which the total will be about £200,000.
Yeah, OK.
You know when we were talking to Jim the other day,
finance is really difficult for me,
and I know that we're talking
about the money going up and everything.
But I'm trying to think about how to make it,
and I did actually think that I was gonna have a mortgage.
But I've applied for a management training program,
for people who work in arts management.
Does that mean you go off for a year and do that?
It does... Yeah, it does.
But 700 people applied for it and there's only 10 places.
‐ Yeah, but you'll get it. ‐ No, no, I won't get it.
But I thought I may as well just see.
‐ When does that start, then? ‐ September.
Right, if I owned Lost Vagueness,
then I would see it as my life project.
But I don't own Lost Vagueness,
so my life project isn't Lost Vagueness.
‐ It's my life. ‐ Right, OK. OK, yeah.
Alright, well, we need to work out
who's gonna replace you when you go and do that.
A new company, IV events, was formed.
I found it difficult to watch as it began selling its parties
at international trade fairs.
Absolutely, yeah. Obviously you can only do one thing here.
But if you look at the pictures,
we do everything from one end of the production
through to the recycling at the other end.
There you go. There you go.
Hello.
This is us smartening up our act.
Are you alright?
The bigger it got,
the more things went wrong,
and as they did,
I saw a different side to Roy
compared with the man that I knew from Glastonbury.
He's promised us it would all be here by lunchtime.
It's still not here.
These are fucking pieces of toilet paper
and we're losing our business for this.
But what am I supposed to do about it
to make him fucking get his finger out of his arse
‐ and sort out the problem? ‐ I don't know.
‐ What do we do? ‐ I don't know.
He has fucked things up really badly a few times
by losing the plot with people
that he didn't need to lose the plot with.
He's put himself and everything else in jeopardy numerous times.
Arguably, it's his thing to put in jeopardy, so, you know,
if he fucks it, you know, we'll all be alright.
If he fucks it up, it's his life that's gonna be gone,
you know, not ours.
What about kind of what really drives that.
You know what it is, I think, Sofia,
it's because he has come from a background,
I'm not gonna say too much about it,
but he left home at a very... quite an early age,
due to difficult circumstances, and went off to make it.
And I think essentially the answer you're looking for,
and, of course, it comes from me and not him,
is that it's an attempt to prove himself in some way,
to say "This is what I... I've made good," you know.
I'm not sure who he's trying to prove himself to,
whether it be his parents, his family.
♪ You of all people Say you...
I was very, very close to my mum.
I think we all were.
Yeah, I mean, we did have happy times,
but a lot of the time it was spoiled.
Describe my mum?
Very tolerant.
I don't remember ever hearing her say no.
Always trying to feed people.
Could never go out without putting on makeup
and being dressed up.
But I think that was pressure from my father.
Everything had to be the way he wanted it to be
rather than how she wanted it to be.
And he was always horrible to her.
He was quite a violent man.
He was very volatile.
When there were arguments and he hit me
because I used to shout, "Leave her alone"
and I used to get really angry,
and my mum would say, "Be quiet."
He'd tear up her clothes, he'd smash things
and then he'd storm out.
And we'd say, "Please lock him out. Don't let him back."
You know, we just had to be really, really careful.
I think we were building up to Glastonbury
and I bumped into Roy and he was sort of having a moan,
said, "Oh, here we go again. It's all starting up."
And I said, "You know, Roy, I think you should just stop."
"You know, why are you moaning?"
"If you don't like doing it,
you know, just stop doing it, if it's too stressful."
He didn't make it easier for himself
'cause it expanded from sort of 200 people to 20,000.
Can someone walk over to my trailer and give Emma a radio?
I just need to talk to her briefly.
Hi, Roy. I've got a radio.
Hello. I'm...
I've just phoned Melvin and I said that I've been made aware
that my planes are over at Trash City
and I'm going over there now to repossess them.
There was somebody setting up, um, a bar
in the cockpit of an aeroplane, a lad called Phil.
I've been doing a cafe with Lost Vagueness
since the first year.
I started thinking about getting some aeroplanes
three or four years ago.
When I mentioned it to Roy, he said,
"Oh, that's a crap idea. You should do a boat."
Which makes me laugh now.
Phil was either married to or in a relationship with Debs,
who was working with Roy.
Phil obviously was doing the diner in Trash City that year,
so I was hearing about it, but I wasn't going there.
I wasn't going up to Lost Vagueness then.
I was, like, very much staying down near the pyramid stage
in my little safety world, basically.
And why did you make that choice, then?
Because I would have been too scared to go to Lost Vagueness,
truth be told, in that year.
There's no doubt that these are the two cockpits.
They are the two very same cockpits
that were used outside the diner at Lost Vagueness in 2005.
‐ There's no doubt about that. ‐ No doubt.
‐ What's in doubt... ‐ They're mine. They are mine.
They're claiming they're theirs, you don't know,
and I'm not asking you to judge that.
We agreed upon
that they would not be used here in this context.
They belong to Lost Vagueness and that's the end of the story.
‐ I've got the receipt. ‐ So have I.
‐ Show us, then. ‐ I don't have to.
I show you a receipt, you grab it and run off with it,
'cause you'd thieve that the same as you thieved the planes.
‐ Who's been paying the storage? ‐ Me.
No, you haven't. Show me the receipt.
Show me a receipt. I've got receipts.
Show me a receipt. Show me the receipt.
Hang on. Show me the receipt.
You're showing me the receipt. Go on.
You see the problem is that we agreed that these planes
were the planes outside Lost Vagueness last year
and they will not be being used here, right?
OK, well, I'll tell you what, Melvin, you deal with this.
I'm gonna fucking tell everyone in my area
to fuck off and go home, including myself.
‐ You've won, Melvin. ‐ I haven't won.
You can have your fake Lost Vagueness all to your very self.
Shut the field.
I can't shut these camping fucking fields as well.
Alright. I'll fucking do it myself, alright?
If that's what you want, I'll do it myself.
Sorry. This area is now shut.
You can't come back in. Thank you.
He'll be alright. He's just angry at the moment, isn't he?
Has he done this before?
What, kicked off?
No, threatened to shut the whole thing down.
Um, probably, not that I can remember,
but I don't really take any of it that seriously, you know.
Maybe he has or maybe he hasn't.
He's a pretty explosive kind of character.
Hello, Michael? Right, OK, it's to do with these planes.
They are in the middle of that field.
Melvin is laughing at me, telling me to fuck off.
So that is now what I'm doing,
but I'm taking all my stuff
and all my friends with me.
So either those planes get removed or it's all over.
I'll leave it with you, you know.
I'm already now downing tools,
and I've got a lot of cameras here already.
Well, the world's press'll probably be interested
and I dare say so too...
Well, I dare say your punters will be concerned
because they bought tickets that include Lost Vagueness
but it won't be here.
OK, alright, yeah. You ain't got long. Hurry up.
Alright, thank you. Bye‐bye.
Melvin was actually dead against Roy,
sure, all manner of reasons.
And I was defending him against...
I said, "I'm doing it anyway",
whether you like it or not," sort of thing.
'Cause it's my show, you know what I mean?
Well, the planes are there.
‐ Why don't you cover them over? ‐ I want them removed.
I want them picked up, put in a barn.
They can stay there till the end of the festival.
Yeah, but they won't do it. You were gonna resolve this.
I tried to resolve it. We agreed.
We agreed that the planes, they're in dispute of ownership,
and it was understood that neither yourself nor Melvin
would judge who owns them.
That would be for a court to decide.
You cannot have both planes in that field and this.
It's a simple choice. One or the other, not both.
One or the other. Simple.
I've got very complex feelings about Lost Vagueness,
but this isn't the way to behave,
as a human, do you know what I mean?
So that's what I think.
I don't think any of the four people concerned
have behaved particularly well.
I think they've all been pretty selfish and self‐absorbed
and, you know, creating a lot of bad feeling between people
who have known and worked with each other for years and years.
I don't give a fuck about the fucking aeroplanes.
Did it matter that they were there?
‐ They? ‐ The planes.
Lost Vagueness was already an established, safe thing.
Well, it kind of mattered
because there was definitely more of that to come.
I felt murmurings that the chapel
wanted to have its independence and go somewhere else,
and the trailer park wanted to go somewhere else and...
So all the component parts, you know, the roller disco...
It was a coup, you know.
It was just being done autonomously
by Phil and Debs and Melvin.
That is mine. That is mine. That is mine.
The contents of that tent is mine.
That tower is mine.
The contents of that is mine, all the dodgems.
It's all mine. The bar is mine. It all belongs to me. Yeah?
It's part of my show, Michael, and they've taken it,
and I'm not gonna allow the rest of my show
to be picked up by anybody willy‐nilly who comes in here
and goes "Oh, I'm gonna carry on working," 'cause they're not.
If I picked up the pyramid and left it
with a cardboard cutout version over there
and I opened up in a field across there
with Glaston Poo Festival, yeah,
I think you'd have a problem with it.
I can understand where Roy was coming from on it,
but I think he sort of...
he needed to get over it, really, and move on.
We valued what he did, as hard work as he was.
Bloody hell. I mean...
Have you been following Roy all morning?
‐ Pretty much all day. ‐ So what's it about this time?
The planes in Trash City. Still about the planes.
What, and Roy thinks he owns them and they're in Trash City?
‐ So he's canceling it? ‐ They're his, are they?
Who knows? You're his and I'm his. We're all his.
‐ You've gotta stop filming now. ‐ OK.
Can we move one of the planes?
Alright, we'll have one back here.
We'll split the baby in half. I want to say which one I want.
‐ I'm gonna tell you. ‐ No, you can't.
‐ I'm gonna tell you. ‐ No, I'm gonna tell you.
- ‐ No, you're not. - ‐ Then there's no deal.
Crazy, you really are.
Well, yeah, maybe I am, maybe I am.
I'm as crazy as you, Michael.
For the sake of the peace of it,
we would remove almost certainly
the one that Roy would want removed.
I wanna know what I'm agreeing to. I'm unclear now.
To removal of the bar, but not down to here.
Do you think, in hindsight,
it could have been handled differently?
Everything can always be handled differently.
I don't think I could've handled it any differently.
I could have just gone, "Yeah, help yourself, you know,
here's the bank account, here's all the trucks, here's..."
"I'll come and work for you, you know. I'll volunteer."
I could've done that, yeah, but, actually,
I don't know... I don't really think anyone on the planet
in their right mind would've done that.
I'm gonna take it away.
I'll get people working again, right,
but I'm also letting you know
it's purely about, A, a matter of principle,
and, B, about me trying to save the existence of this
and not destroy it,
and I feel like I've been walked over.
I'm sorry, that genuinely isn't my intention,
because, you know, I love what you do.
Great. Get on with that and I'll get on with this.
See you later.
‐ What's happening? ‐ Alright, let's carry on, then.
Let's carry on!
Roy to all listening on the Lost Vagueness channel.
That's... I think that's Lost Vagueness one,
Glastonbury Festival nil.
If we can all just ignore the last half hour
and just carry on.
Sun's shining. It's brilliant.
Cheers for that, you twat.
- ‐ Yeah, I love you too, Russell. - ‐.
He's lost his mind.
He's got issues that none of us are responsible for.
These people just work, they work hard
and they believe in something, they're happy to play together.
It was really hard
to watch all of your friends be that angry
and see someone be such a dick.
And I think he was having a breakdown,
like, I think the generous interpretation of those events
is that he was having a breakdown.
♪ Danke schoen
♪ Darling, danke schoen
♪ Thank you for all the joy and pain
♪ Picture show, second balcony
♪ Was the place we'd meet Second seat
♪ Go Dutch treat You were sweet
♪ Danke schoen
♪ Darling, danke schoen
♪ Save those lies Darling, don't explain...
Fucking hell.
This is it now. I mean, look.
Another black cloud on its way over,
dump some more deluge on us.
There is no rest. Apparently we're wicked.
Must be the case.
Beginning to think the festival's being run by Satan.
Pretty tired and quite happy to leave.
‐ Are you? ‐ Yeah, I am.
Roy?
‐ I'm just... ‐ I haven't got any, no.
‐ Pete? Pete? ‐ Yeah?
It was really easy to walk away
from something which was so dysfunctional,
and I didn't really have any regrets.
I didn't feel like, "The party's carrying on without me."
Like, I felt like the party's gonna end really soon
and it's OK.
Like, everything was so messed up at the end.
It was on its knees, you know. It was dying.
What killed it?
I think probably lack of communication.
I think the unsustainability of the gigs that came afterwards
were, like, made it so that it was actually impossible
to pay 500 people to do a gig on a budget of two grand,
and that added extra pressure to Roy.
And maybe his response was... not ideal for some people.
That was the end of Lost Vagueness,
and I didn't know what to expect
when I found Roy and everyone else seven years later.
Would he be dreaming up new ventures,
or would he be living a quieter life?
Yeah, yeah.
We're just a bit too old for this shit, aren't we?
Crazy. Your end, Roy.
That's the one.
It was essentially my decision
that I wouldn't be going back in 2008.
Um, as I recall, I had discussed that with Michael,
that I said that I wouldn't be able to come back,
and then he sent me a letter going,
"Thanks, but we don't want you to come back."
After 20 years working there,
didn't even get a carriage clock.
But I did get a thank‐you letter.
I don't know where it is.
After that, there was this whole other scene born,
which was all the people who had worked with Roy
who remained here,
and we had this whole fresh, new scene,
and we came up with the name Shangri‐La,
because whenever we'd been away, my dad would be, like,
"We're back here at Shangri‐La."
He always called it Shangri‐La.
There's gonna be, like, a main TV studio in the middle,
where all the TV programs will be getting made.
Shangri‐Hell International Television.
You won't be able to avoid it everywhere you go.
Bloody hell.
Kids area we're calling it, but it's really not.
The baton's been passed to me,
I think 'cause I've hung in there,
because I really believed in it,
how art can transform people and change lives.
Get your Shangri Liar here.
No bullshit in this paper. Come on, now. It's only a pound.
All proceeds go to the refugees in Calais.
I met these guys from Torquay.
What they were saying to me was,
this place made them think out of the box.
That's the legacy, because how many million people
have been through here in 25 years
and gone "What? I didn't even know that existed"?
I'm not sure exactly what the legacy of Lost Vagueness is,
except that we're still here in most cases.
There's no doubt that this has followed on in its footsteps,
with largely the same core group of people,
with obviously some key people sadly not there.
The festival's completely changed,
but it's had to.
I don't know what Roy would make of it now.
I like to think that he would get it,
because it is a real punk attitude behind it
that's the same.
Roy and his gang created a entire culture
which we see around us today
in cabaret, performance art and music.
Now all‐night entertainment and boutique camping
is everywhere.
We met all these really amazing people
who are now so deeply entrenched in what the festival is now.
They are part of the fiber of the whole thing.
So... So we've got Roy to thank for that, really.
Michael wanted to put a statue of him up.
On the Saturday night, I go right through the night.
One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock, four,
and finish up at five o'clock in the morning
when the daylight breaks,
and to see the whole thing,
it really is incredible, absolutely amazing.
How does that make you feel? Do you feel proud?
Oh, I feel tired.
Let's just listen to the rhythms of our flesh aging
and watch the stars glow, be your real self.
Show the things they say you can't show.
Breathe deep to the boom‐bap of the beat.
Believe what your heart knows, let the bars flow tight
and love with pure energy.
It's a cold night in London
and I'm screaming at my loved ones to wake up and love more.
I'm pleading with my loved ones to wake up and love more.
‐ ‐ Take care of each other.
I wanna say one thing. I say it every time I'm at Glastonbury.
When you see someone fucked up in the mud,
then you pick them up and you give 'em some water.
Imagine you could take that home with you
and actually care about your fellow humans.
Take it at home. Do it on the Tube.
Do it on the fucking street. Do it in fucking Calais.
Take it home. Do it.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the most amazing Kate Tempest and Kwake Bass!
What's so exciting about Glastonbury
is the enormous scale of creative risks.
If Michael Eavis hadn't have taken a chance on Roy,
there wouldn't have been a Lost Vagueness.
But who are the mavericks today and who will be their champion?
Roy was very cantankerous.
We were all a little bit scared of him, actually.
But he was really generous to me,
and his vision was brilliant.
It was breaking down audience‐performer boundaries
that then had so much influence
on Secret Cinema and Shunt and Punchdrunk
and everything else that's out there now.
Actually, they were on the cusp of something enormous,
and it's sad, really,
'cause what Roy created was extraordinary,
and if he could've got over that hump
of allowing people to be inspired by him
rather than fearing them,
I think he would've gone on
and created great things, really, would be my view.
In a way, though, isn't Roy kind of being true
to the spirit of what Lost Vagueness was,
and we've all kind of sold out a little bit?
You know, we've all got proper jobs
and we live in houses and, you know...
There was something about the anarchy which he's held onto
that we've all just kind of sacked off.
You know, I definitely have.
What do you think about that?
I'm alright with it. I've got central heating.
I've carried on with Shangri‐La,
but it's meant that I have not been able to buy a house,
like most people have.
I haven't got any assets. I haven't got any savings.
I've literally just put my life into doing this thing
because I think just creating is the reason that I exist.
Lost Vagueness, it was a bit of a runaway train.
I'm happy that it stopped.
I would probably either be clinically insane or dead
if it had carried on.
By choice I live on my own now
and I have done for a while,
and I find, you know, it's less burdensome on women generally
to not have them... make them try to live with me,
because I don't think... I don't think it works, you know.
You know, I've had four kids and four relationships,
all of which, they all feel better off without me,
so maybe... maybe there's a message there.
With my youngest daughter, I think it's somehow easier
because I've had more time with her.
With my older ones, either I left or I was thrown out.
I'm much more involved with the upbringing of Lola.
She stays here every other weekend and half the holidays,
and she goes off to work with me.
Can you foresee a day when you can make peace?
No, well, I've sort of floated it around.
He could bring the chapel back and just run the chapel,
but I don't think they'd have him back, that's the thing.
Shame, isn't it, really?
The show goes on, though, you see.
It's been a really, really long time
and I don't really know him anymore.
It's hard to kind of feel angry
about someone who's kind of a stranger.
Do you have any fond memories of Roy?
Yeah, loads. Loads. He was a really good friend.
He was, like, I had a break‐up and he was fiercely protective
and really made sure that I was OK
and that that person didn't come near me.
And tried to give me a car once. It was really nice.
I took it to get an MOT and they were, like,
the chassis thing had snapped in half,
so it was totally undriveable.
But, you know, and he must have known that,
but in his head it was fine, you know.
It was one of his classic, like, disastrous vehicles.
And he was funny. He could be funny.
In a dad way, you know.
It would have to be in a dad way.
I did wanna make a success of it.
I lived and still do, effectively,
as a New Age traveler.
And, yeah, at the time I think I was on a bit of a mission
to get it across that these disenfranchised people,
quite a lot were drug addicts, a handful were alcoholics,
but there was a lot that were much, much better than that.
And those people now
are the ones that are creating the arts in this country.
And maybe I was on a mission to prove to myself
that I was better than that.