There’s been a lot of talk this week about how un-secret the Glastonbury secret sets have become, so I was surprised to find that, when I told some friends that I was on my way to go see Haim’s “TBA” slot on the Park stage, none of them were aware that the show was occurring. And while a healthy, roaring crowd has assembled for Haim’s set, which they posted about on Instagram an hour before their stage time, it doesn’t necessarily feel like there is the same mania around Haim’s surprise appearance as there was around other artists such as Lorde, Pulp and Lewis Capaldi.
Perhaps that’s because, in their 13 years as a band, Haim have basically become part of the furniture at Worthy Farm: they played in 2013, 2014, 2017 and 2022, and also performed on the festival’s Covid-era live stream. There is a sense, perhaps, that the chance to see Pulp on the Pyramid stage for the first time in 30 years or Lorde return from a performing hiatus is a bigger deal than rock’s most affable sisters.
Lyrics stretched into frenzied screams … Haim on the Park stage. Photograph: Ben Birchall/PA
Indeed, the sheer reliability of Haim is at the top of my mind during their Park performance. Although their set is themed around their recently released fourth album I Quit – the staging features a giant digital sign flashing slogans including “I quit dick” and “I quit caring about what people think” – it leans on big, eternally great hits from past albums. Danielle, Alana and Este gallop on stage to the irresistible stomp of The Wire, from 2013’s Days Are Gone, and the crowd saves its biggest sing-alongs for the urgent, frustrated The Steps (from the band’s 2020 opus Women In Music Pt III) and Want You Back, from 2017’s Something To Tell You.
While it’s fantastic to hear these songs in such a gorgeous live setting, in the Park’s natural amphitheatre, it also feels like a slight shame, because the songs from I Quit are total standouts. Blood on the Street, an absolutely sizzling breakup song, is extended into what feels like an eight-minute cross between a cabaret show and a jam band, with Danielle punctuating one lyric with a yelled “What the fuck?” and imperiously stretching her arm out demanding a guitar at one point, and Este stretching her lyrics into frenzied screams. Down to Be Wrong, a highlight of the record, provides a spectacular final song: Danielle’s voice sounds sublime on the chorus, and it’s even better when sung back to her by a devoted, ardent crowd.