Standon Calling

They actually ran out of beer and cider for a time on Saturday night to be precise but honestly it didn’t matter.

Why did this grand gaff not take away from one of the most hyped ‘boutique’ festivals of the summer? Well for the same reason that their claim of numerous and cleanly toilets mattered little when they were too few and distinctly farmyard like. Also for the same reason that there being no ATMs was like water off a duck’s back, that the food stalls were alright, but not great and that the people round the swimming pool with supervisor t-shirts did their best to sap the enjoyment from the poolside. If you listened to the announcements mate....you...having fun....out the pool. You get the idea.

Even the fact the hand sanitizer was out of juice within minutes of arriving and a presentless birthday did nothing to adjust my enjoyment. Because this festival is a must. It just quite simply is. 40 minutes from London on the train, a far from painful cab ride and you’re in the decently thought out space of a very pleasant manor house, where half the fun is playing out on the verdant lawn and watching pianos mounted onto a bicycle play their way past. The booze is evenly priced and you can bring a bit on site with you. About the furthest away you can camp is a highly acceptable 15 minute walk. Even if you’re unlucky to have pitched next to a 23 year old rapping Amir Khan doppelganger, it cannot steer you away from the sheer enjoyment of both a nicely structured line up and a weird and wonderful selection of places to explore, such as the Abandoned Cinema and Camp Alcatraz.

The late night tent with hay bales on which to stretch out in the wee hours and soak up laughing gas whilst watching your bespectacled new fancy dress friends mosey past was a top spot and being able to get right up to the front of the main stage to see the likes of Gabby Young, Alice Russell, Steve Mason of the Beta Band and their peers must be unheard of on the UK festival scene.

The downside is those playing on the big stage may have felt underloved, particularly when it got a bit wet underfoot and revellers opted for the RnB of one of the tents or the nicely crafted bar in the roots of a big old tree, the Tree Bar, but despite this I didn’t speak to an act who didn’t enjoy themselves.

This place is unique, has a special air, and when Casio Kids with the wonderful Finn Bjkken and triumphant Fot I Hose smashed the living daylights out of the speakers, attendees knew they were into a festival. The fancy dress theme was followed with gusto like at the best of Bestivals, and the silliness didn’t end there. What’s a festival for? To let it all hang out, right? To walk around looking silly, maybe acting silly if that’s your thing, to listen to great bands you know and discover those you didn’t.

Etienne de Crecy in his huge cube was utterly stupendous and wonderfully placed in the line up to close the Saturday night main stage. Others new to me included Mano de Dios and their particularly fun loving lead guitarist, Plants and Animals with Mamas and Papas, and I heard good reports of Fucked Up, Efterklang, a timeless Buena Vista Social Club and Metronomy were at their reliable best.

What’s left to say? If they keep this up, fix the deficiencies, stick with the atmosphere, reasonable pricing and high quality of up and coming and established acts, then this well could be in the running for the UK’s best festival. But we know what happens then. Prices go up, too many people visit and it turns into a shit show. Well fingers crossed not, but this year’s instalment, whichever way you look at it, was a roaring success and gets a huge, big, Music News seal of approval.

It’s also noteworthy that the kind souls at Diesel:U:Music lent their production equipment for on site festival podcasts and yours truly would have done a show had I been able to find the damn place. There’s always a next time, but despite this sad omission, you can listen to shows by some of the bands and a selection of others here: http://www.mixcloud.com/dieselumusic/