Years & Years at Glastonbury: if only all pop could be this powerful

It’s a good day to be gay at Glastonbury. This evening, at NYC Downlow - the uncannily convincing recreation of Manhattan’s Lower East Side in the 1970s - performer and drag queen Jonny Woo will lead his drag troupe in a re-enactment of the Stonewall Riots 50 years after the event. We have been told to expect a battle between drag queens and security guards.

Before then, though, there’s Kylie, Miley Cyrus (whose Happy Hippie Foundation supports homeless LGBTQ youth) and Years & Years, one of pop’s most prominent and outspoken LGBT offerings.

Fronted by Olly Alexander (who boldly ignored industry advice to hide his sexuality, and instead told the world), Years & Years are a year on from releasing their sophomore album, Palo Santo, which reached the UK Top 10 (their debut, Communion, topped the charts). And while they haven’t quite maintained the prominence with which they first arrived, Years & Years are still a safe festival bet, especially to a Sunday crowd who have been battling with imminent heatstroke all weekend.

Famed for explosive live shows backed by smart concepts, Years & Years brought a Glastonbury-shaped version of their dystopian tour for Palo Santo. Alexander writhed with dancer Dominic Lawrence, trussed up in a leather harness, as quotations such as “Not appropriate for kids” and “Did he used to be so gay?” appeared on the screens, for opening number Sanctify. White confetti graced the crowd.

From there, the band rattled through a small symphony of their trademark euphoric synth-pop as Alexander spiralled around the stage, matching his crisp falsetto in dizziness. “I don’t know about you, Glastonbury,” he said, “but I feel very aroused.”

Karma, their second Palo Santo single, was a highlight. The smooth, upbeat jam was deftly accessorised with harmonies from Alexander’s backing singers as he deployed his acting skills into every enunciation of the song’s triumphant lyrics.

It’s funny - and endearing - to see his confidence drop as Alexander switches from singing to between-song patter. The band had, he admitted, been delirious for days in anticipation for the gig. When the crowd whooped as he whipped off his tartan waistcoat to reveal a tight string vest and a smattering of tattoos, he replied with a surprised and bashful “oh, thanks!”

“I wanna bathe you all... that sounded weird”, he laughed ahead of a piano version of Eye Shut. But that he did - in music, at least. While Alexander’s vocals occasionally faltered more upbeat numbers such as Take Shelter, here, away from the dancing and the guitar solos, it was a fine thing, honeyed and soulful.

But Years & Years’ real intention was far greater. As Desire descended into dance beats, astonishing statistics flashed up on the screens: LGBTQ hate crime has risen by 144% since 2014; crime against trans people has trebled. “Queer is beautiful” left the screen to show Alexander vigorously kissing one of the member of the BalletBoyz, all of whom were dressed as policemen.

He continued to give a speech about the difficulties of the world queer, the importance of LGBTQ history and learning from it, and the necessity of everyone to participate in making the world a more accepting place. “The only reason I’m able to be up here talking about my gay self is for all the people who came before me”, Alexander said. It recalled the moving tribute Stormzy made during his Friday headline set, to those black British artists who had allowed him to claim that space, as well as those who are coming in his wake. People in the crowd shouted “thankyou” as Alexander spoke. They were right to be grateful; if only all pop could be this powerful.