Still buzzing from the jungle heat of the Dance Stage? Limbering-up for one desperate last sprint through the gears of your drained physical vessel with The Streets? Or are you on your knees, the rigours of the weekend finally nailing your over-stretched psyche?
Join the club and come with us. An anthemic set of healthy man-rock, infused with the all those rock'n'roll vitamins - forlorn emotions, striking guitar work and fist-aloft sound-bites - will see you safely to the finish line.
In 2002, the Doves emerged onto the Glastonbury skyline at stupid o'clock in the mid-afternoon on the festival's first day. They return in 2003 as conquering heroes, headlining the Other Stage and bringing the curtain down on an event that remains unmatched worldwide.
After a rather clumsy lurch through the instrumental intro of 'Satellites', the band lean into 'The Last Broadcast', and a familiar chord is struck: whilst Doves on record exploit a dense, driving, focused sound, the live experience can be rather two-dimensional, losing the valuable nuances that make them such a special, epic force. Hazy takes on 'Words' and 'Catch The Sun' are amongst the weaker moments, but there's no denying the incessant attack of a machete-wielding 'The Pounding' or the revelatory, end-of-the-road 'Man Who Told Everything'.
But, as the festival hovers dangerously close to the off switch, frontman Jimi Goodwin's repetitive "thanks Glasto" proclamations are lame and uninspired. They also come some way short of Richard Ashcroft's dynamite "One minute! One minute! One minute!" shamanistic rain dance last-stand of ten years ago.
However, we get some serious consolation in the funked-up, closing resurrection of 'Space Face' from their Sub Sub days, which inspires a last inch of movement from this weary mass of bodies. And with that, 120,000 ambulances are called and a million memories sealed forever.
