Glastonbury is a blueprint for a better society without my parents. By Tom Logan

27th June 2025

MY first time at Glastonbury has opened my eyes. I believe it offers a blueprint for a society that is more equal, free of prejudice, and your parents aren’t hassling you all the time.

It’s no exaggeration to say Glastonbury is the ultimate utopia, and I don’t see why you couldn’t scale it up so that everywhere in Britain is like this. We’d all live in eco-yurts and the economy would be based on sustainable industries like bead shops, meditation workshops and shamanic drum-making.

You wouldn’t have to cook because all the food would come from stalls and everyone could spend their time being creative. I gave it loads of thought last night when I was smoking weed and listening to dub reggae, and it seemed pretty doable to me.

But there is one thing standing in the way of this perfect society: my parents.

Not them personally, there’s only two of them, but people like them, trapped in a petty bourgeois suburban mindset where all they care about is paying the mortgage and trying to turn you into a mindless cog in the capitalist machine by suggesting you get a summer job at Homebase.

They don’t get the Glastonbury ethos at all. When my dad was dropping me off at the station he said: ‘Four nights of sleeping in a field for the privilege of seeing Rod bloody Stewart? Better you than me!’

This sort of closed-minded attitude would have no place in our brave new world, so I think it would be best to exclude my parents. I’m not suggesting doing anything terrible to them, just some sort of internment camp.

Then we can get on with building a society based on values like tolerance, anti-racism and veganism which the British public hold so dear. All I have to do now is work out what we’d do for money.

I’d love to talk more about my vision of a better future totally unlike anything that has gone before, but I’ve got to see Supergrass.

Dr Dre, and six other musical doctors who in a medical emergency should sit the f**k down

26th June 2025

BOGUS doctors are surprisingly common in the music industry. Here are some who may not even have completed the basic seven years of medical training.

Dr Hook

Despite their full name being Dr Hook & the Medicine Show these American soft rock balladeers are completely medically unqualified, making them a dangerous liability in a medical emergency. That said, it’s possible dreary tunes like Sylvia’s Mother may have some value in anaesthetising patients. And if you’ve accidentally ingested poison, When You’re in Love With a Beautiful Woman may well clear your stomach by inducing nausea and persistent vomiting.

Dr Dre

Around 1984, Andre Young began using the title of Dr Dre despite only being qualified in rapping and mixology from launching his own range of cocktails. Both these skills are irrelevant during major surgery. He went on to find fame in NWA, an organisation that is not regulated by the American Medical Association, and since then his only interest in actual medicine has been bringing out a 1992 solo album entitled The Chronic.

The Spin Doctors

This one-hit wonder have little to offer in the way of medical knowledge. According to their worldwide hit Two Princes, the Doctors would tell their patients ‘If you want to call me baby, just go ahead’, clearly a breach of medical ethics. They also tell the listener that ‘If you want to talk for hours, just go ahead’, a sure sign none of the band are practising NHS GPs.

Dr Feelgood

Despite the name of this 70s British R&B band being a slang term for drugs, or a doctor willing to prescribe them, none of its members had any training in pharmacology. Further proof of their lack of medical knowledge is that their biggest hit Milk and Alcohol was about drink-driving through a red light. Had they been doctors they would have referred themselves to alcohol counselling.

Doctor and the Medics

If you had an accident it would be easy to assume you were in good hands with a GP plus several other medical specialists. You could not be more wrong. Formed during the New Wave era in the 1980s, the band had an international hit and British number one with a cover of Spirit in the Sky, which is what you’d become if any of these medically unqualified glam rock throwbacks attempted a medical procedure on you.

Dr Alban

This Swedish/Nigerian DJ is as close as it gets to a music artist who’s able to help in a medical situation, so long as it’s only gingivitis or replacing a filling. Dr Alban trained as a dentist in Stockholm before swapping his drill for decks and taking up DJing. He briefly had international success in the mid-90s with songs like It’s My Life, which comes with the playful warning: ‘Do not resuscitate’. Which certainly happened to his career.

Dr Beat

When Gloria Estefan realised she had a feeling deep inside of her and she couldn’t control her feet, she appealed for help from Dr Beat. Despite repeated pleas of ‘Won’t you help me, Dr Beat?’ throughout the 80s it appears he never arranged an appointment. Perhaps he’s retired. Whatever the case, Gloria needs to accept that Dr Beat is not coming. Try paracetamol and phoning 111.