This self-portrait, done in the coffee tent while eating a warm blackberry jam donut, shows that three days of guitar music, dancing on a damp paddock in wellingtons and crowd watching is about the limit of the therapeutic window for me. My favourites? Naturally Trombone Shorty, who either has a hidden oxygen tank, tardis lungs or has really mastered circular breathing not to mention jazz rock funk and about ten thousand people in a tent. Aaron Neville was sublime, that faultless lift into the soprano register, the emotional intensity, this man sings like he's auditioning for heaven. Gurrumul, I think this must be history, the only thing to say is Gurrumul.