Having spent most of the last five days in a ten square yard grassy knoll behind the Queen's Head venue at Glastonbury, I'm buzzing from a festival that became a family celebration with bands, kids and assorted dysfunctional lunatics making it a surreal gin and fajita powered marathon. Elsewhere, Amy Winehouse elbowed someone in the crowd and Jay Z did a version of Wonderwall. I'm sure it was fantastic but it isn't what music is about for me. 

We had our share of star-studded madness. There was The Glitterbanditz wearing nothing but, er, glitter and y-fronts, Rhys Ifans and Kate Moss' boyfriend wrestling each other to the ground, an inebriated Joe Lean And The Jing Jang Jong being out staggered by their parents, Cerys Matthews with various associated kids and some extraordinary beard conversations with the manager of White Denim and the guitarist from Dengue Fever. Florence And The Machine decorated the stage with flowers and balloons and Natty, Stephen Fretwell and The Young Knives proved that music is the very fabric of life.

Kate Nash had Billy Bragg sitting in and brought along her mam and dad and The Pigeon Detectives ensured that 4,000 people outside the tent joined the biggest pogo of the weekend before my 12 year old collared them for pictures. Music is about the moment when your brain clicks and you get it - whether it's good time whimsy or deep soul-searching. Whether it was the Pigeons opening with This Is An Emergency, Barry Peters from The Cuban Brothers singing I'd Be So Good For You, the crowd at MGMT chanting the ultra-catchy synth riff to Time To Pretend way after the band were long gone, or Lightspeed Champion discussing his break into the Star Wars theme with my 14-year old. It's those moments that shape our hungover dreams.

I realised tears were rolling down my cheek during Elbow's closing set last night. As the audience and extended revelers sang "There's a hole in my neighbourhood" during Grounds For Divorce it was a moment of musical nirvana. During much man hugging afterwards, I told guitarist Mark Potter that I'd come over all emotional - I had been on-site, sleepless, for five days - and he apologised. No need. Without that moment of euphoria this weekend wouldn't have been anything. Sometimes you have to go where the song takes you. Without that, what's the point?