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Hey LaFaro, you’re looking good. Johnny wears a black halter neck dress with matching trainers. Herb has opted for a white tutu and tights and he does an elegant pas de deux while sucking on a ciggy. Al is on drums with a black diamanté bra, possibly a homage to Gautier while Dave’s over-the-shoulder ensemble is on loan from Wilma Flintstone. Thus attired, LaFaro summon up their riffs from the deeps of the Sperrin Mountains and hurl them into the cobalt sky.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the final ever Glasgowbury Festival, and every performer, every audience member, knows the significance. We’re losing an iconic event – the most durable home-grown celebration ever. At the same time we have so much to celebrate - masses of stories and bonding rituals. Bands have been raised here, indulged and ultimately loved. The campsites are full of delirious folk, glad to be away from the cultural deadlock that the adults have bequeathed us. The regulars have circled tents around their own pitches and beautiful societies take shape amidst the rushes and sheep dung. Teenagers who weren’t even born when Paddy Glasgow first raised his vision are getting a look before it’s all over.

You raise your eyes and there’s a helicopter, swerving over Eagle’s Rock. A few moments later and a hot air balloon gusts across the awesomely blue sky. And when the sun finally quits the show, a huge moon shines down on this benighted scene. Glad to see Mother Nature taking part, then.

There’s a culmination of course, shortly before midnight on Saturday, when The Answer quell those amps for a moment and they introduce Paddy to the stage. He tells us that Glasgowbury is 13 years old now. A teenager. And now’s the time to let it fly. Everybody cheers and so Paddy brings his extensive team out and they all wave and take the respect. We hear that while this annual festival may be no more, there might well be a Small But Massive stage re-appearing at another event near you, like a rock and roll franchise.

This was the year that Little Bear wowed us in the G Sessions stage on the first evening. And in that same marquee an hour later, And So I Watch You From Afar marked the occasion with proper intensity, sparking out ‘Solidarity’ for everyone that has bought into the self-empowerment here. The main stage was a chance for Silhouette to enthuse the Friday crowd while Jetplane Landing followed with the jolting commands, expected turbulence and ‘The Violence’, roaring with gusto.

Saturday was slow-burning but sure. The Red Bull DJ was playing calypso and the Motown marvel of ‘Heatwave’ and we literally got it. Later, 13 year old DJ Shane Whelan had all the hands in the air as the party heightened. In between times there was Rosie Carney from Donegal, increasingly sure with her modal shapes. Katharine Philippa did her best to tailor a set around the boisterous samba band outside the Eagle’s Rock tent. We heard her take on Joni Mitchell’s ‘A Case Of You’ once more. Is there a better song about all-consuming love? She’s no slouch with her own tunes of course and ‘Broken To Be Rebuilt’ was ruinous but not without hope.

The Clameens succeeded early with their urchin pop and tremendous drummer. Vanilla Gloom also possessed great beats, intelligence and focus. The Wonder Villains are getting ever-closer to their debut album and we’ll not under-value those giddy sensations. But as the night progressed, the festival added some extra weight. Axis Of provoked a mosh turbine during ‘We Dine On Seeds’. Just after, More Than Conquerors were utterly compelling. ‘Go On Go On Get Out’ was a poke with a particularly sharp stick. With his parish inflamed thus, Kris walked into their midst, shouting plenty. Boss.

As mentioned, LaFaro dressed the part and The Answer sounded indefatigable, adding a soul dimension to new single ‘Searching’. In the scramble to see bits of other acts, I had reasonable encounters with The Bonnevilles, Ryan Vail, Rams’ Pocket Radio, Robyn G Shiels, VerseChorusVerse, Trucker Diablo, The Dead Presidents and Pretty Child Backfire. Quite the selection.

In my youth, a summer music experience meant a long trek to Slane Castle and perhaps even further to the booze-sodden Trip To Tipp. These days we have Belsonic, Vital, Open House, City Of Culture and more. The importance of Glasgowbury was to make a resounding case for the indigenous acts, allowing our own champions to play a significant gig with excellent specs and be heartily admired.

Now we have a range of boutique festivals across NI, each with a particular slant or an appealing location, but remember that Paddy showed proof of concept, every year. During this farewell programme, I didn't meet an unhelpful worker, a bummed-out customer or a suggestion that the deal was ever less than true. There was no mission drift. Glasgowbury always had it, never lost it and ended with a weekend that was supremely vivid and bright. Massive to the last.