Arriving on the morning of the third and final day of any festival is a distinct disadvantage when it comes to writing a review. However, it also meant that I missed much of that now seemingly obligatory festival rain before arriving at the splendour of Duncombe Park,bathed in that rare but welcome element known as North Yorkshire sunshine.  

It seems incredible that in 2005 Galtres Parklands Festival was nothing more than a real ale festival held inside a public house in the nearby village of Crayke.  Its attractions then included a beer tasting talk, Morris Dancers and a headline act named The Dangleberries – a far less sinister sounding name than tonight’s headliners and the real reason why I’m here. Well, that AND the drink.

In order to accommodate its growing popularity Galtres  has this year moved to the back garden of Baron Feversham’s home, and it’s from here in just a few hours’ time I will once again wallow in the sound of my teenage years, my twenties, my thirties and my forties  - but first - time to explore nature… and source the alcohol…

The area designated as ‘Riverside camping’ is seemingly peaceful, and, not surprisingly, at the side of a river, which is a boisterous looking thing and perhaps an indication as to just how much rain has recently fallen? The grass however is still remarkably firm with plenty of space (even on the third day) to pitch a tent – a tent no larger than the standard bathtub.

Near to this still enclave any person could satisfy their hierarchy of needs with fine tasting food and drink - as many did – late into the night – whilst singing soft, tuneless melodies accompanied by that woeful musician who seems to follow me around from town centres to festival camp fires but that’s all part of any festival’s charm. Right?

A free mini-bus service ran at approximate half-hour intervals, ferrying those not quite as agile or enthusiastic enough of negotiating the incline and/or the distance from the Riverside to the main arena’s entry point just a ten minute walk away but a rather muddying experience and as many of this year’s festival attendees would comfortably fall into the 40-49 demographic it’s no surprise that many chose to use this service.

After getting changed into standard Strangler attire (although black flip-flops were a novel concept for a Stranglers gig) I waited patiently for this bus to return before I was soon bimbling my way to the main arena with 15 excited others. Their ages ranging from 5 to 60.

Once at the main arena, a huge field with several stages peppered around its edges, it became apparent that although Galtres has grown there is now plenty of room for it to keep on growing! With a beautiful backdrop of the North Yorkshire Moors and Duncombe Park it would’ve been foolish to not sit still for a while and appreciate the view and savour the surrounding county and its countryside. The sun was warm. The skies were clearing - and were they lolloping camels’ racing in the distance? Men, women and children dressed as pirates and crocodiles (this year’s themes), vintage dodgem cars, and a series of other attractions you would associate with festivals – and, of course, the reassuring deep thud of a distant drum pedal and the unmistakable sound of live ‘open-air’ music – all this and not a single Morris Dancer to be seen or heard - and in around 10 hours’ time, Galtres would be getting strangled. Bliss.

Heading straight for the beer tent it soon became apparent that most beers were priced at £3.50, in fact most foodstuffs were priced at or around this price. I put my appetite’s faith in a Burrito which turned out to be a remarkably tasty little dexter when washed down with a flagon or two of real ale. I’m not a huge fan of real ales. Most make me want to vomit but I entered into the spirit of things before I simply entered into the spirits. 

With over a hundred acts across three days it’s obvious that Galtres is popular with many but I was a little disappointed that I missed any ‘spoken word’ or poetry open mic – although I’m not even sure if there was any such thing scheduled into the event? To be frank, I’d only come to see one band though it was unavoidable to find yourself  listening to many others – many of which, even from a distance, sounded great. 

Since those early days of  The Dangleberries, Galtres has featured bands such as The Charlatans, The Lightning Seeds, The Beat, Adam and the Ants and tonight it was the turn of my particular favourites The Stranglers to headline on the final night but before which, on a warm still night, those early punksters The Undertones blasted out hit after hit, many of which I’d actually forgotten that they did. Teenage Kicks, Jimmy Jimmy, My Perfect Cousin and Here Comes the Summer being the most notable and even though Fergal Sharkey is no longer fronting them, that honour now belongs to Paul Mc Loon, their sound was sharp  and their performances as energetic as any dad could muster. All the band's members appeared as if they were really enjoying themselves and, rather surprisingly, I found them  a pleasure to both watch and listen to, as they mustered an enthusiasm from an ageing crowd not seen this side of pension day.­

Then it happened.

To that familiar intro’ of Waltzinblack the skies darkened, through spears of white light those familiar, menacing shapes of JJ Burnel and Baz Warne appeared. 

They opened with Toiler on the Sea, no real surprise there as it was the opener for their most recent UK tour. The sound of JJ’s Shuker bass and RotoSound strings were absorbed into my ear canals providing an immediate, comforting fix. Cue drums. 

Woah, woah, woah. That’s NOT Jet Black’s drumming. It sounds way too energetic. Cue lead guitar.

For fuck’s sake – what’s going on? Baz played the first few notes as if he’d never picked up a guitar before and it was only after Dave Greenfield and his keyboards entered the piece that their timing sounded as if it had come back onside - but then DAVE played a bum note too - much to the amusement of both JJ and Dave himself! 

So, no Jet Black drumming. No great surprise. The man is 75 and in poor health and it was his birthday weekend at a real ale festival, yet Jim McCauley is a great stand-in and never disappoints with an energy and enthusiasm which gives the band a subtle nuanced sound – although the puritans may argue it turns the band into a mongrel of a tribute band? It works for me. 

Norfolk Coast sustained the opening's momentum with Baz redeeming his earlier bum notes with some vicious rhythm playing. 

There were no great surprises in the set.  Almost predictable yet understandable given the year they’ve had so far. Rise of the Robots perhaps the nearest I got to bouncing my eyebrows in any form of disbelief. Golden Brown, No More Heroes and Duchess providing the ageing festival goer with familiar sounds of a youth with Golden Brown being played as well live as I have ever heard it played. Burning Up Time made my testicles rattle. Mercury Rising was probably the most unfamiliar sound of The Stranglers but allowed for a balance in the 75 minute set. Nuclear Device and Peaches were played with a relish and a great sense of fun. And that’s what constantly amazes me about this band. Two weeks ago they were in the Royal Albert Hall performing at the Proms. Tonight they are playing to a crowd of all ages who all appear to be rising to the challenge of being at a ‘Stranglers’ gig. Baz does need to change his ‘between song banter’ though. Yes we can still feel it – that’s why most of us are here tonight, Baz! A tad ironic that they encored with Something Better Change and closed on Tank. It was great to see the band all appearing to enjoy themselves – JJ was smiling lots between his snarls and menace.

Maybe he knows what they’re planning for next year – their 40th year as a band. Surely, whilst they continue to play like this, it’s not retirement!?

Article by Darren Thomas

Images by Paul Barker