Charli XCX puts on a VERY racy display in tiny black hot pants and mesh top as she performs to HUGE crowd at Glastonbury
Charli XCX put on a very racy display as she graced the stage at Glastonbury Festival on Saturday evening.
The singer, 32, showed off her toned figure in tiny black leather hot pants and a mesh skull crop top.
Charli accessorised with a floaty Alexander McQueen scarf, and hid her eyes behind oversized dark sunglasses.
The crowd went wild as she performed hits including Party 4 U, Speed Drive, Sympathy Is a Knife, and 360.
Charli later performed her song Apple, and the person doing the famous viral dance was Gracie Abrams, daughter of Star Wars director JJ Abrams.
Charli reached a major career milestone with the release of her sixth album last year.
It became her highest-charting record, peaking at No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100 and even earning her a Grammy Award.
However, in a new interview, Charli revealed that commercial success isn't her main focus going forward.
She explained that maintaining creative freedom is far more important to her than chasing chart positions.
Speaking to Culted at the Cannes International Film Festival, she said: 'I don't really feel the pressure to create another record like 'Brat' because when I was making it, even though I really believed in it and totally knew what I wanted to do with it, I had no idea how it would be received.
'I was really doing it for myself and marketing it in the way I wanted to for myself but I had no clue that people would kind of connect to it in the way that they did,' she said.
Charli also hinted that her next album will take a completely different direction.
'You can never really do the same thing twice and my next record will probably be a flop which I'm down for to be honest,' she added.
Thousands of revellers descended on Worthy Farm as Glastonbury Festival 2025 kicked off on Wednesday - with this year's event already shaping up to be one of the most iconic yet.
To complete her look, she sported a pair of knee-high black leather boots and over-the-knee socks as she delivered an incredible performance
She later slipped a pale pink cropped shirt over her bra and donned a multicoloured tartan print mini skirt as she delivered an electrifying performance alongside a slew of backup dancers
Headlining the Pyramid Stage on Friday night were The 1975, making their debut in the coveted top slot.
However, Saturday saw Neil Young and the Chrome Hearts take to the Pyramid Stage but with sparse crowds, following sets from the likes of RAYE, Patchwork - who were revealed to be Pulp, John Fogerty, The Script, Brandi Carlile and Kaiser Chiefs.
Pop sensation Olivia Rodrigo will close out the festival in style on Sunday night, while Rod Stewart is set to make his long-awaited Glastonbury debut in the beloved Sunday Legends slot.
Other major acts lighting up the weekend include Wolf Alice and The Prodigy, who are set to headline the Other Stage on Sunday.
Festivalgoers have been soaking up the sunshine, with dazzling outfits, mud-splattered boots, and round-the-clock music creating the signature Glasto magic.
With surprises, special guests, and unforgettable moments still to come, Glastonbury 2025 is already cementing its place in the festival's legendary history.
Glastonbury Festival 2025 runs from Wednesday, June 25 to Sunday, June 29, with five days of music, mayhem and star-studded performances across Worthy Farm.
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The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
Neil Young review – ragged glory from a noisemaker who never treads the easy path
Neil Young's second headlining appearance at Glastonbury has a turbulent history, even before you get to his publicly expressed fear that, despite being a Canadian with American citizenship, he won't be allowed back into his adopted homeland because of his criticism of Donald Trump. He announced that he was dropping out of the festival even before the lineup was announced, having picked a slightly baffling fight with the BBC over their coverage of the event, which he described as a 'corporate turnoff'. Two days later, he announced he'd changed his mind, although the wrangling over whether or not the BBC would be allowed to livestream his performance seems to have gone down to the wire: last week they issued a statement saying they wouldn't, but in the event the live stream went ahead. A man who's been conducting his career according to his own baffling internal logic for the best part of 60 years, Young clearly sees no reason to change his approach as he nears 80: not for nothing is his online blog called the Times Contrarian. It lends a certain frisson to his Glastonbury appearance: as longstanding fans will tell you, with a mixture of weariness and fond admiration, you never quite know what he's going to do, although what the floating voters who invariably make up a significant percentage of a Glastonbury audience will think of it is anyone's guess. He takes the stage clad in a tattered plaid shirt, jeans and a Casey Jones hat pulled down over his face: in old age, he increasingly looks less like a rock star than a mechanic from a small American town who distrusts anyone not born within a mile radius of its centre. He dispatches a version of Sugar Mountain on acoustic guitar, before the Chrome Hearts arrive. This is essentially his earlier outfit Promise of the Real augmented by 82-year-old keyboard player Spooner Oldham, a man whose career stretches back to Aretha Franklin and Wilson Pickett's legendary late 60s albums. They may well be the best backing band Young has assembled since Crazy Horse, their sound simultaneously tumultuous and lumbering and heavily distorted. Cinnamon Girl, from 1969, and 1990's Fuckin' Up alike conclude with lengthy barrages of noise: during the latter, guitarist Micah Nelson creates feedback by throwing this guitar into the air. At their best, they're impossibly thrilling. Young's lengthy guitar solos have an impassioned, almost caustic quality, and the sense of the musicians huddled together at the centre of the stage sparring off each other is really striking. At one point, it seems as if Young is going to start rolling out one venerable classic after another, to general delight: a version of Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black) is followed by an acoustic section featuring The Needle and the Damage Done and a lovely, lambent take on Harvest Moon provokes the audience into singing softly along. But simply playing a crowd-pleasing selection of what you might broadly describe as the hits wouldn't be very Neil Young: instead, he throws in Sun Green, a painfully slow, musically unchanging track from his coolly received, ecologically themed early 00s concept album Greendale. It has 18 verses, and lasts so long that you're occasionally gripped by the very real fear they'll still be up on the Pyramid stage playing it long after the festival has ended. Some of the floating voters take this as a cue to see what's happening elsewhere on site. But then he plays Like a Hurricane, accompanied by Nelson playing a keyboard that seems to be suspended from the roof of the stage. An acoustic version of Old Man is warmly received yet makes for a weirdly downbeat end to the set, but an encore of Rockin' in the Free World offers what you might call the full festival experience. The screens keep flashing on to the audience: there are people on their friends' shoulders singing along. A suitably inscrutable onstage presence for most of the night, Young is visibly enjoying himself. He leaves the stage having headlined Glastonbury in a manner entirely in keeping with his longstanding reputation.
The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
Gong baths and a naked sauna: my search for inner peace at Glastonbury
The quest for tranquility in the world's least tranquil place can lead you to unexpected places. On a baking-hot Glastonbury day, I am sitting in a 90C sauna surrounded by 10 naked strangers. My journey began on Friday. While Lorde is playing a crammed secret set at the Woodsies stage, I'm over at Humblewell – a somewhat smaller tent – with 50 people who couldn't care less about the buzz. We lie on mats and parched grass, eyes closed, breathing deeply, legs moving in unison under the orders of the yoga teacher, Dina. A bassy soundtrack distracts from the many sounds outside competing for our attention. If it wasn't for the bucket hats, you wouldn't know you were at Glastonbury. I fold into a child's pose and feel a deep sense of release. Not many people come to Worthy Farm for peace and quiet. It is, after all, a place where 24/7 sensory overload seems inescapable. I have left two noisy children at home, and while I am looking forward to lots of loud music and dancing, I also need some chill time. I would hazard a guess that most attenders crave a bit of tranquility at some point over the weekend, if only between the hours of 4am-7am, when distant thuds and campsite chatter finally cease. Thankfully, there is inner peace to be found. The Retreat Yurt, next door to the yoga class, is packed full of weary people indulging in much-needed meditation. The session facilitator, Dan Peppiatt, gives gentle encouragement and plays a selection of instruments along to a soundscape recorded at the Cornish woodland where he lives off-grid. Occasionally, Arran Burton joins in on a selection of handcarved wooden flutes. I am close to drifting off when someone accidentally elbows me. 'We offer a space for people to stop,' says Peppiatt after the session. 'A lot of them come to have a snooze.' 'We will be back tomorrow,' says MJ Ascenzo, who has come to the festival from Manchester. 'It's the perfect start to the day,' she adds, before heading off to find some breakfast. On a nearby hill, a series of brightly coloured hammocks are a shady spot for some respite. I pull myself into one and eye the guy next to me with envy: he has the right idea, sound asleep with an eye mask and noise-cancelling headphones. I try to relax, but every time someone gets off a hammock, it feels as though mine is about to snap. My next stop is the Healing Fields, the OG of Glastonbury wellness. Here you can try tai chi, join a harmonised singing group or sample an array of massages and treatments. I eat some falafel, resist the urge to get a tarot reading and take a moment to pause in the neighbouring peace garden, which at noon is blissfully serene – perhaps less so at midnight, given its proximity to the late-night haven the Stone Circle. In a corner of the Tipi Field, I find people who really are letting go. Lost Horizon, the 'nomadic spa', has been a fixture at the festival for 15 years. Offering a sauna in a yurt and, crucially, a shower afterwards, visitors can buy a single entry, or a pass for the day or weekend (£15/£30/£50). Having a shower on site can involve a long queue, so this is a smart investment. That said, a sauna is a challenge on a hot day. And, alarmingly, this is a clothing-optional area. To one side of the area there is a huge trampoline, where naked adults are jumping. Jenna Brocklehurst from Somerset is running the sauna, and tells me that last night they hosted a ceilidh in the buff. 'It is a sanctuary,' says Clive Phillips from Goa, covering himself up with a sarong. 'An oasis of calm in an often crazy experience.' A partly clothed band provides entertainment for the spa-goers, many of whom are lying in the garden between sessions, making the most of the slightly less frenetic vibe. 'It's not what I expected,' says Carol from Bristol, who likes to try something new each time she attends. 'It is a bit of grass with sweaty people on it.' She recommends trying a laughing yoga class, although she thinks she got Covid from doing it here last year. As I enter the sauna semi-clad, I seriously question my life choices. But then the Green Fields choir circle the yurt, serenading those sweating inside. When I come out, I feel refreshed and renewed – and very grateful for a cold shower. As Alanis sings later: 'I've never felt this healthy before.' I retreat to a gong bath and fall into a deep sleep. It is possible to find peace at Glastonbury – you just have to look in the right places.
Times
an hour ago
- Times
The luxury of getting older
As the sadistic fairground employee joyfully spun our waltzer and I screamed soothingly at my eight-year-old son that everything was going to be just fine, I took a moment to reflect on the appeal of the funfair. Summertime heralds the opening of such places in parks and scraps of land all over the UK, all offering the deeply peculiar combination of alcohol and machines created solely to induce nausea; rides are designed to be enjoyed after eating hot dogs, fizzy drinks and candyfloss, all on a hot day. And yet, astonishingly, this is where teenagers go to get lucky. Legions of ever-hopeful girls semi-blinded by their industrial eyelashes and apparently casual youths populate every theme park and funfair in the country. The only thing to quell the hormones is the vomit. Throwing up is nature's way of making you repulsive. Truly, funfairs are a test of how gross you can be and still attract someone. One of the many delightful things about getting older is the happy confidence with which you can cheerfully decline some death by cardiac arrest/choking on your own vomit ride. Other things I'll be mercifully turning down this summer include hosting a barbecue, watching a movie from my car, waterskiing and playing tennis. Instead, I hugely look forward to gently sweating while drifting in and out of various hot naps. So today I want to draw your attention to the great, the sublime, the unequalled luxury which you are all experiencing right now this minute — of not being on a waltzer.
