The revival of Melanie C is one of pop’s most heartwarming stories – it’s so hard for a member of a major pop band to continue their former glories, but with her latterday turn towards disco-tinged pop, the 49-year-old is experiencing a well deserved career rejuvenation. Not that she needs rejuvenating in the least – with her washboard abs, expressive dancing (a far cry from the Spice Girls’ strict choreography) and infectious ebullience, she has the energy of a performer half her age, and she maintains the kind of openness and curiosity that keeps a musician young. Her set is a brilliant straddling of eras, a self-aware sample from her brilliant debut and more recent re-emergence. Early solo singles like Never Be the Same Again and the rocky, fantastically growled Going Down sound like classics, while recent bops such as Here I Am fit with the current trend towards empowerment anthems, and they hit harder because we’ve watched Melanie C grow up in public and reckon with self-acceptance in real time. She’s clearly having a brilliant time. “Don’t make me cry!” she tells us, though the famously high-achieving artist keeps one eye on her performance. “I sing shit when I cry!” I think that’s it from the Pyramid Stage, as everyone breaks down into wild soloing at the end of Paradise City. I apologise to everybody in the Guardian cabin who has been subjected to my Axl Rose impersonation for the last several hours. They’ve brought on Dave Grohl out for Paradise City. One more tune! One more tune! “I was so fucking late they are about to cut this set today,” says Lana on the Other Stage. Meanwhile, Guns N’ Roses are stilllll going. Truly thought that we would never stop knockin’ on heaven’s door, but of course we still have Nightrain to come. Bottoms up, folks. What a strange (and long!) experience this Guns ‘N Roses set is. An opportunity to see two of the best rock guitarists alive in Slash and Richard Fortus, accompanied by a frontman who lamentably sounds like a bad karaoke version of himself. Guns N’ Roses are closing (surely!? They’ve been on stage for an aeon) with Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door. I am having a solemn headbang moment. Pleased to report that Axl has ditched the silver and white plastic waistcoat and Slash is back on the double-necked guitar. Absolutely more cigarette smokers per head in the Lana crowd than anywhere else, says Laura, who says this is so far a slightly obscure set even for a wilful obscurantist. Sad girl summer is in full swing on the Other Stage, where Lana Del Ray has just finished Pretty When You Cry – we could hear the crowd wailing along to that from here. She’s currently in a white dress and tiara, sitting on the floor with her dancers, staring mournfully out at the audience, who are literally screaming as she sings the opening words of Ride: “I’ve been out on the open road, you can be my full time, daddy, white and gold.” We can hear soft whistling from across at the Pyramid Stage, where Guns N’ Roses have slowed things down a little. Guitarists are in perfect unison behind Axl for Patience. Here’s the word from Woodsies, where Christine and the Queens are mid-set: Chris seems to be doing his Meltdown performance of the new record Paranoia – deeply theatrical, referential and metaphor-laden. It’s all held together by his muscular movement, writhing across the stage, shirt off, marbled torso like the statuary behind him. Long build-ups don’t seem to be phasing the crowd much.