Okay everyone, that’s it for the Guardian day blog. Alex Needham will guide you through this evening’s performers, highlights including Katy Perry, Liam Gallagher, Solange, and, depending on what your definition of ‘highlights’ is, Foo Fighters.

We’re all off for a celebratory pint. Easy on the froth, Corbz!

Time for another highlight from our Corbyn interview.

Asked what the naughtiest thing he’d ever done at a festival was, Corbyn replied: “Oh it’s far too bad, I can’t possibly tell you,” he said, before adding: “Where’s the nearest wheat field?”

Read the full interview here.

Friends Neil Phillips and Neil Lansdowne with Louis Phillips, 3

What do you love about Glastonbury?

NP: The atmosphere.

NL: (Louis whispers to his friend) “Rocking out” is Louis’s answer. Who did we just go see, Lou? (Louis says: British Sea Power) They have the best bands here.

NP: And it’s the size of it as well. You can never get round to everything, so it’s a case of making the most of it.

NL: This is your second time, isn’t it Louis?

NP: (Louis holds up 10 fingers.) 10? How’s that possible? He’s been to two, 2015, 2017 and you were in your mother’s belly for 2013, weren’t you? So I don’t know if that counts.

Are you strong and stable?

NP: Not after last night. We went to Arcadia. Lou obviously didn’t join us for that party, he was in bed. He didn’t make it to Radiohead.

Grohl or grime?

NP: Probably Grohl. Grohl over grime. But, you know, I like a bit of everything. Eclectic.

Aren’t pop-punk trio Busted by now just a Glasto novelty act? At one point, they were a tween band, heavily styled in sub-Green Day matching ties and spiked hair, armed with sugary anthemia about school, crushes and scenarios that will be familiar to those who watch bro-coms. Now, though, they’ve done a bit of a Take That: grown up, had children, and leant in to Kings Of Leon-ish soft rock and ropey but gently danceable punk-funk (which doesn’t sound unlike a discofied Klaxons, minus the Ayuahasca, or Friendly Fires in their Jamie Principles stage).

Nostalgia triggered or not, Busted’s fans have grown up and are out in their droves. The band have drawn an abnormally large crowd to their Avalon performance, spilling out of the tent 200 people back. They start with old ‘classic’ Air Hostess, but it’s not long before their stuff that sounds like literally everything else, preened into borecore perfection, gets an airing. There’s slight relief in the downtempo 80s power ballad that sound like an ultra sax-y Phil Collins by way of Michael Bolton (that’ll be frontman Charlie’s vocal husk), or the Top Gun soundtrack, which seems to suit them.

A new string of live dates - including one at Royal Albert Hall - suggest that Busted have pulled off the feat of maturing into a new band while still capturing the spirit of their old incarnation. Novelty, at least, they are not.

Continuing our portrait series, we ran into music writer, manager and founder of punk band the Membranes, John Robb.

What do you love about Glastonbury?

The weather. I was wet, I’ve just dried out now. I’m from Manchester, this is perfect weather. We like the drizzle – it’s life affirming. And you don’t have to have a shower in the morning. What I love about Glastonbury is its diversity. It’s like Katy Perry, Napalm Death, grime, all in a row – it’s the Spotify generation in physical manifestation. Everybody now flicks from one type of music to another online, but it’s actually in real life. Also, what I like about Glastonbury at my age (56): they complain about Glastonbury not being like in the old days – yes, that’s what’s good about it. Who’d want to go to festivals like the old days? I’ve been here 25, 30 years, and I like the way it changes. It’s very clever the way it moves with the times. I’ve no problem with pop acts being on. They mix it all up, don’t they?

Would you describe yourself as strong and stable?

Yeah, but far more strong and stable than the Maybot. I’m waiting for Jeremy Corbyn. [John was speaking shortly before the Labour leader’s turn.] I’m waiting for the revolution. I’d like to see him on the Left Field stage, that’s his proper home.

Grime or Grohl?

Grime. I think Dave Grohl’s the greatest drummer in rock music, but I prefer it when he plays the drums.

Sauntering on stage to the sound of portentous choral chanting, Wild Beasts’ frontman Hayden Thorpe is dressed top to toe in white – the combined effect of outfit and entrance music summoning a vision of the second coming of Christ.

It’s not an allusion the band can really live up to, especially since they kick off with generally underwhelming songs from their recent album Boy King, which prize organ-rattling beats and wiry soul over Thorpe’s eccentric warble – something that marked the band out as a breath of fresh air when they first emerged in 2006.

Thankfully, its not too long before old steamy favourites like We Still Got The Taste Dancing on Our Tongues get an airing, Thorpe’s voice veering from unnaturally deep to disconcertingly fragile, like an embarrassed choirboy whose voice is breaking.

The Kendal band - who follow British Sea Power’s set on the same stage and joke that they are part of a “Cumbrian takeover” - ultimately deliver a slightly dull set, often overwhelmed by monotonous bass and drums. A late addition of the genuinely quite erotic sex-ode All The King’s Men (mainly sung by bassist Tom Fleming) is proof of how distinctive they used to be – these days they can’t compete with the genuinely messiah-esque likes of Jeremy Corbyn and the risen Craig David over on the Pyramid.

A lot of attention has been paid to Corbyn’s rallying words of revolution, but I know what you’re really thinking: what can his creased denim shirt tell us about his home affairs policies? Luckily, fashion editor Hannah Marriott is here to decode his sartorial choices:

“Undoubtedly, Jeremy Corbyn is far too busy with politics to be paying attention to the trends emerging from the men’s fashion shows in Paris this weekend. And yet, spookily enough, his outfit today closely mirrors some of the strongest spring/summer 2018 men’s looks.

His beaten-up brown lace-up shoes are uncannily similar to those worn by male models on the Balenciaga catwalk a few days ago, in a show inspired by the off-duty looks adopted by office workers taking their kids to the park at the weekend. Balenciaga’s design team would appreciate the normcore appeal of his unbuttoned, creased denim shirt, too, while his white trousers are a brave choice for Britain’s most filthy festival. This isn’t the first time Corbyn has accidentally adopted a high-fashion look. Vogue recently described his aesthetic a “very Vetements”, while one of London’s hottest designers, Martine Rose, recently used a picture of Corbs in his grey cycling shellsuit as the invitation for her show. Clearly, Corbyn has the fashion vote.”

So there you go. I think we can all agree that world peace is on the horizon.

While Glastonbury’s reinvigorated political spirit is something to celebrate, Nadia Rose’s Park Stage performance is initially hindered by Corbyn and Run the Jewel’s scene stealing stage clash. The Labour leader and rap duo’s presence at the Pyramid stage has hoovered up half of the site it seems, leaving a very modest crowd at the hill top venue.

It’s her fourth show of the weekend but that’s not prevented the south London MC’s high-energy performance. With a five strong squad of friends joining her on stage, she darts and dodges like a nimble boxer and boasts just as much in between tracks as she does on them.

“There’s a lot of things I can do with my mouth,” she says after her mate does some beat boxing, “...but that is very special”.

The audience expands eventually and her buoyant, cartoonish energy is infectious - there’s a lot of joy to be had watching a lot of gawky guys in wellies dancing to bashment. I even notice one husband getting ticked off by his wife after his gaze in the direction of a young woman twerking in front of him is held for just a little too long.

All the right components are there - slick rap, sweltering dancehall, a hit single in the shape of the bouncing, braggadocios Skwod - but it might be better placed in a dark, sweaty tent after hours rather than in a grey, drizzly afternoon outdoor space.

A few yards away from Rose another party is popping off - the Jarvis Cocker soundsystem in the Stone Bridge tent. Beginning in typically freaky form, he invites a line of spaced-out dancers to warm up the crowd with aerobic lunges and arm waving, while feverish psychedelia pumps through the speakers. A bonafide Glastonbury veteran, it’s a strange, intimate experience to gawp at a legend pumping out dark, groovy tunes with the confidence of a man holding court in his front room.

No act at the festival has a better hype man than Run the Jewels. In fact, he’s a little too good: there’s a notable exodus of Corbynistas when El-P and Killer Mike take to the stage after the Labour leader’s appearance. Still, a significant chunk of the audience does stick around, which in itself is pretty remarkable. This is a group that were always seen as decidedly “for the heads” - a Pyramid slot was never part of the equation.

The pair of course grab the opportunity with both clenched fists, hurling themselves into the likes of Blockbuster Night Part 1. The stage patter deviates wildly from political (Mike delivers a shoutout to the Grenfell residents) to pisstakey (El-P apologises for smoking the present he brought for the Pyramid audience) to poignant (Mike remembers his mother, who died this week). As is customary at Glasto this year, a special guest rocks up – this time it’s DJ Shadow, reprising his role in Nobody Speak. As is even more customary at Glasto this year, Johnny Depp is in attendance, looking on eagerly at the mayhem in front of him.

He makes a final appeal to equality, and an end to the division in wealth and poverty. “We’re doing things differently, we’re doing things better!” He says he finds the “unlocking of potential” is inspirational.

He quotes Percy Bysshe Shelley :

Rise like lions after slumber

In unvanquishable number,

Shake your chains to earth like dew

Which in sleep had fallen on you –

Ye are many - they are few.

“Let us be together and recognise another world is possible, if we come together to... achieve a decent, better society where everybody matters.”

Barnstorming stuff from the Labour leader, full of the clear-throated, big-hearted idealism that has set him apart from the rest of the political system. But we didn’t get a truly epic “Oh, Jeremy Corbyn!”

When Craig David performs The Rise And Fall – a sombre, Sting-assisted meditation on the vacillations of fame from his second album Slicker Than Your Average – he prefaces it with a heartfelt speech about the ups and downs of his own career. But it seems unlikely that, even at his most optimistic, he would have imagined that his comeback would pan out like this: the crowd gathered for him at the Pyramid Stage is enormous – considerably larger than the one assembled for Radiohead last night.

His comeback is an object lesson in the value of standing completely still – his latterday material sounds almost identical tot he pop-garage he was churning out 16 years ago – and clearly part of the appeal is nostalgia: “he’s classic noughties pop,” explains one audience member to a friend, who looks too young to remember the early noughties at all. The crowd receive him with a kind of delighted hilarity: if another part of his appeal is that people think he’s faintly ridiculous, it’s not entirely clear if David himself is in on the joke. He certainly doesn’t seem to be performing Seven Days or a garage cover Justin Bieber’s Love Yourself with his tongue in his cheek, but then he could always just be playing the gag dead straight.

He overcomes the obstacle of not having enough huge hits of his own to fill a set by simply playing other people’s records – TLC’s No Scrubs and House Of Pain’s Jump Around among them – and singing over the top of them and alters the lyrics of his own tracks to reference the festival: “I wanna be yours Glastonbury and spend the whole night with you,” he sings, which brings to mind the diverting image of Craig David staggering around Shangri-La at 4am with a man carrying a flag saying BAZ AND OGGY’S BARMY ARMY. At one point, the screens either side of the stage focus on a middle-aged gentleman in the crowd, possibly there early for Jeremy Corbyn, who looks like he’s the Craig David experience is causing him to lose the willl to live, but everyone else seems to absolutely adore him.

Shaggy’s hit It Wasn’t Me remains weirdly inspirational for its none-so-brazen attitude towards lying about infidelity.

So in honour of Shaggy’s double appearance at the festival this year, we’re doing a feature called It Wasn’t Me, where people confess the worst thing they’ve ever done at Glastonbury from behind the safety of Shaggy’s grinning visage.

Here’s our first three miscreants.

“I snogged a 16 year old.”

“I broke three people into the festival in 2013.”

“I did a poo up against a fence in Arcadia, about three years ago, in full view of everyone.”

No mucking about with cosmic bass lord Thundercat: the set begins with a 20 minute two song segment dedicated to his cat Turbo Tron and largely consists of tangential wonky bass solos and ‘meow’ choruses.

It certainly weeds out those in the crowd seeking some familiarity this afternoon. There is nothing earthly about Thundercat. In terms of eccentrics, he outdoes any crusty wizard sleeping under a quilt in the stone circle.

You can also see why Thundercat – along with a raft of other LA musicians – have helped to reinvigorate jazz for a new generation. Not only are his songs a fusion of pure surrealist wig-out indulgence and soulful, Stevie Wonder-like melancholy, but the LA musician looks like someone to idolise, a prophet from another dimension: in his trademark beanie (with the shop security tag left on, obviously), darts of red dreads, a gold septum piercing, flame adorned wrestling shorts, a long jacket in the colours of a sunrise and skeleton leggings, there’s enough wit to his look to soften some of the knottier elements of his music.

Friendzone – an anthem for those relegated to the platonic category in a relationship – is one of many highlights in a set that noodles its way round acid-fried Doobie Brothers and an oddly appealing Radiohead Shreds video. These words can’t do it justice. Exquisite, escapist funk from a new cult hero.

She’s cute as buttons but her words will CUT YOU: it’s our eight-year-old child music reviewer Z. Here’s what she made of Lorde’s set yesterday:

10/10. My mum and I really like Lorde because she’s a New Zealander like my mum - there were lots of Kiwi flags and Lorde said thanks for bringing them. I liked Liability the best when she was sitting on the edge of the stage. Her dancing was really unusual. The only thing was that Daddy made us leave early to see Radiohead - boo!

JESUS, DAD! Ride, meanwhile, didn’t get such a positive reaction.

6/10. It was loud and funky but they’re not as good as Katy Perry, Little Mix or Justin Timberlake. They had one guitarist too many. I actually fell asleep in the middle but the song at the end [Vapour Trail] made me dance with my dad so that made me happy.

“They had one guitarist too many” is the most lucid and pithy assessment of Ride I’ve ever read. Also Z is in two completely different outfits here, and thus making way more of an effort than most people on site. Bravo x2.

We live in a corrupted era of not knowing what’s real, what’s leaked, and what’s a mere smokescreen from our lizard overlords. We’re also at Glastonbury, where rumours fly around like wildfire – people rumoured to be playing include Lady Gaga, Diana Ross and Harry Styles, hopefully together in some deranged Supremes redux.

So in the spirit of the age, Gwilym Mumford has been going round asking people what they’ve been hearing on the fake news grapevine.

Jas and Emma

“Theresa May is going to be doing a rap battle with Jeremy Corbyn on the Pyramid stage before Run the Jewels.”

Aaron

“I’ve heard a few - the Killers at John Peel. Oasis, obviously, but I just saw Noel and asked him if he was playing and he said no. I’ve also heard the Red Hot Chili Peppers will be playing the Stone Circle at 5am.”

Becky

“I’ve heard that Donald Trump will be appearing on the Leftfield stage. He’ll be chatting with Billy Bragg and playing a set of old country songs. I’ve heard he’s a talented guitar player and perhaps he likes the drums as well.”

Becky’s friends would also like to point out that she went viral last year after the purse she lost in a festival toilet was returned to her six months later with none of its money missing.

Two more in our People of Glastonbury portrait series here, where we show off the wonderful cross-section of humanity at the festival. Next up: Gill Pitch and David Esson.

What do you love about Glastonbury?

I love the freedom, the happiness, just surrounded by wonderful things happening. It’s amazing … People are so lovely, everyone’s so happy, and it’s just great.

Are you strong and stable?

I’d like to think I’m both.

Grohl or grime?

Probably grime?

What do you love about Glastonbury?

Just having a break from everything?

Are you strong and stable?

Ha. No. No comment to that one.

Grohl or grime?

Grime.

“How’s it going Miami?!” grins Whitney’s vocalist and drummer Julien Ehrlich at the damp crowd congregated around the Other stage. The real question, however, is if the irreverent Chicagoan indie lads can lift the rain-drizzled audience’s sodden spirits.

Whether they succeeded probably depends on how dark your sense of humour is. Ehrlich’s main party trick is to gleefully describe each song as melancholically as possible: dedicating a track about the pain of breakups to all the happy couples in the audience, and later guffawing through an introduction to a song “about dying of old age” before glibly cueing up others about being “super depressed” and “being single, but not in the fun way”.

But the banter belies the band’s really quite beautiful music, a warm and groovy country-folk sound with trumpet interludes and strangely moving falsetto vocals – the mesmerising Polly and peppier Golden Days, both from their recent debut album Light Upon the Lake, being particular highlights.

Despite their mock-disdain (“it smells of cowshit”, they remark at one point, which to be fair is the elephant-in-the-festival), they actually seem very taken by this “righteous far-out experience”, imploring the crowd to join them at their secret Crow’s Nest set later today. And as they conclude with a gorgeously extended version of the archly maudlin No Woman, it’s an extremely tempting invitation.

With shiny ribbons hanging off her jumpsuit and long hippie chick locks, Maryland folk-popster Maggie Rogers is perfectly aligned with the many glitter-covered Glasto revellers who’ve packed into the John Peel tent to see her (albeit maybe slightly with a bit less dirt on her). Her story so far – being spotted by Pharrell and garnering millions of YouTube views before bagging a major label deal – is far from uncommon, but what is unusual is her genuine modesty at the buzz that surrounds her.

“My story is a one about people,” the 22-year-old says, choking up. “ I was watching Radiohead last night, and it made me think music is about community. Thank you for being a part of my journey.” Her set has the large crowd enthralled, from the syncopated electro-folk of On+Off to a cover of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon that’s now a mainstay of her live shows, to yet another outing for Wannabe by the Spice Girls – last night sampled by Major Lazer, and today performed with some indie swagger by Rogers and rising singer-songwriter Declan McKenna, whom sources say she asked to collaborate with her via Twitter. What else would you expect from this internet star turned real-life pop force?

First up, a few reviews from after the liveblog went to bed last night, starting with Dizzee Rascal. Kate Hutchinson was there:

As Radiohead gently wail over at the Pyramid stage, a rapper from Bow called Dizzee Rascal is drawing a humongous crowd with his all-strobing show at West Holts, his flow still as on fire as it was in the days when his debut album Boy In Da Corner won a Mercury music prize and put grime in the spotlight in 2003. He is wearing a T-shirt bearing the artwork for new album Raskit; it’s “delayed but it’s coming”, he says, and it gets an airing in the form of tracks that echo his grime roots while keeping his role as chart courting pop artist firmly in mind. “I ain’t never gonna lie, I want a piece of the pie,” he raps on one new track, as if to underline that.

One of the anthems that established him as grime’s greatest hope, I Luv U, gets an airing, next to the major drum breaks of Sirens, the zipping electro whomp of Bonkers and Fix Up Look Sharp, still perhaps his greatest tune to date; its pummelling bass could hype even the most weary of crowds.

As grime takes Glasto in 2017, Dizzee’s set isn’t about to reassert his place in that history, but remind us of the pop heights it can reach. And as he cranks out laddish dance tune Bassline Junkie, perhaps the lows, too.

Welcome back to our Glastonbury coverage! We’ll be liveblogging throughout a day where big pop hitters like Katy Perry and Craig David will attempt to kickstart a rather grey site, where grime heavyweights Wiley and Stormzy will go toe to toe, and where Liam Gallagher will probably say something unpleasant about his brother. There’ll also be some bloke called Jeremy Corbyn. Keep it, as they say, locked.