Far From 'Glasto'

What do you get when you put Glastonbury, a working toilet, cheap alcohol and Ten Bears under one roof only big enough to swing a cat? A bloody massacre of inebriated carcasses? No, probably one of the best days out this summer has seen. Faye Banham explains.

Yes it’s that time again, when you delve deep through your winter wardrobe, through the puddles of knit wear and mounds of thermals to dig out your summer attire. The usual suspects come out to play; denim shorts, plaid shirts, straw hats.... oh and don’t forget the wellies of course (we can’t expect too much from good old British weather). These are all essentials in any aspiring festival goers back pack.
Glastonbury, Carling Festival, Download, Gatecrasher... I could go on. We’ve all seen the huge crowds turn out. Where the pilgrimage of adoring music lovers pitch their tents strategically between the porter cabins and the beer tents and traipse through muddy fields, past the groups of new age hippies to finally reach their Mecca, the main stage.
And what do they see when they get there? Nothing, Other than a sea of elbows thrashing the air, sweaty pits brushing their faces and the odd glimpse of a topless girl shouting “I love you” to the lead singer of the band they are unsuccessfully attempting to get a peek at.
Doesn’t sound like my idea of a good time, in fact, sounds like a perfect nightmare to me. Call me prissy or un-cool, but I can’t think of anything worse than being covered in other peoples’ bodily fluids, living without a shower for four days and drinking nothing but cheap lager.
So I am faced with a predicament, do I have to sacrifice my love for music in order to have a perfect summer full of tranquil baths and large G&T’s? Or will I have to brave the grime and face the music to well....face the music?
This is the dilemma I have faced every summer, year after year, and I haven’t even started on the astronomical prices that are expected to be paid in order to experience such a ‘pleasure’. That was until, this year of course when I found something right up my street, and it was right on my doorstep, quite literally.
Over fifteen bands, free flowing cheap beer, glorious sunshine and a fabulous crowd of cool cats, scene kids, indie boys and rock chicks... doesn’t seem anything untoward. Not from what you would usually expect from your average summer music festival. So imagine my delight when I realized this was the theme for a beer festival at my local boozer, and it was completely free of charge.
Some may argue that the atmosphere wouldn’t be quite the same, and I must say I was rather dubious at first, but what did I have to lose? With no entrance fee and nothing to do on May bank holiday, I thought it would be worth a try.
A quaint village called Sowerby Bridge, on the outskirts of Halifax, posed the location. Equidistant from both Manchester and Leeds I could have chosen a more cosmopolitan place to spend my long weekend. But with the sun blasting and beer flowing nearby I didn’t see any need to travel any further than my front door. How convenient!
The venue deemed a quirky little pub named ‘The Puzzle Hall Inn’, which sits parallel to the River Calder. With a stage outside ready to be bombarded with the foot taps of the bands ahead, and a beer garden, it seemed a perfect place to soak up the sun, absorb the music and gulp the odd tipple.
However the inside is a different story, even though eccentric in decor, its bottle neck corridor to the bar and toilets pose difficulty in desperate times. The queues were out of the doors, trailing on to the street, at the busiest point of the evening. Obviously this was one aspect that bared some unwanted similarities to the conditions while camping at a festival. But at least these toilets had toilet roll, and I didn’t have to bring my own.
Festivities began at 2‘0’clock, and instead of having to organise transport, decide how many pairs of sunglasses to pack and overload my bag with toilet paper, I alternatively donned the proverbial summer frock a pair of tatty boots and off I went, with the rest of my festival-phobic mob, of course.
On arrival the atmosphere was indeed lacking, and with few people there my excitement turned into an ambivalent anticipation. It seemed that the only people there were groupies for the first band in the line up, who did nothing for my growing doubt.
The line-up of bands was a diverse mix ranging from funk to punk, soul to metal. A genre for all audiences and as the hours passed by, so did my hesitation. Two more bars were even set up to cater for the over spilling hoards of music/beer lovers. Things were picking up!
Four bands that out shone the rest were ’Modeliste’, ‘Little Tremors’, ‘Far from the dance’ and ‘Ten Bears’, all of which had differing sounds from each other, providing a gloriously diverse following of beat junkies. With the scorching sun shining down on the sea of way farers and aviators that made up the crowd, as well as a vast array of alcoholic beverages on tap, this event deemed everything I want from a festival.
‘Little Tremors’ were the first to hit to the stage, the lead singer was stunningly beautiful, no wonder they had such a large male following. And with an eerie hint of ‘No doubt’ about them they paved the way to get people in the mock-up mosh pit, and start dancing. And even though it was just 4.00pm, the once dismal crowd was rammed.
‘Modeliste’ a good old favourite at ‘The Puzzle Hall Inn’ paved the way in funky vibes. A three piece funk band from the same neck of the woods, they looked perfectly comfortable in dominating the stage and grabbing everyone’s attention, and I must say the atmosphere was incredible. They played a half hour set and kept everyone entertained throughout.
Dressed in skin tight jeans, tighter vests and bright eyewear they seemed every bit the indie band, but once they played their first track ‘Hot Love’, a well known tune amongst regular Puzzle patrons, it was obvious their image is every bit an oxymoron as the location of the venue. Reminiscent of an early ‘Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ track, punters sang along as if a summer anthem.
‘Far from the dance’ had a much more unique style, their image similar to that of the ‘Motley Crew’ and a lead singer who looked suspiciously like Sid Viscous. The sound that came from them was completely different, yet again, it was almost indie based like ‘The Stone Roses’ they had an un-championed energy and an even bigger entourage.
It’s obvious that the organisers of this event were aiming at a young audience. The music was effortlessly cool, and the drinks were relatively cheap and high in alcoholic volume. However, that didn’t stop the locals of this usually quiet Inn from having a good time; some even had a dance.
‘Ten Bears’ another funk based band, had just finished their small tour of Yorkshire and popped in to do a small set, they are a Manchester based five-piece and were absolutely amazing, there wasn’t a still person in the whole place, they really know how to pull in a crowd, even though this one was quite easy to get going given our inebriated state. Their offbeat riffs and whiney vocals really made you want to dance as though nobody was watching, and that’s what we did.
As all of this action took place outside, people with a more reserved taste were welcomed inside to an acoustic set, almost like the different types of tents you would get in your conventional music festival. But after listening to indie, punk, metal and funk, who would want to sit and watch a guitar yielding whiner? Especially after all of that gin.
After all of the dancing, a well deserved beverage is always needed and this is where the disadvantage of being in a quaint pub kicked in as it took an age to get served, and when they started serving food they soon ran out of onions and cheese to add to the barbequed burgers and hotdogs. But this was the quintessential boozy feast and at £2.50 it was a steal.
My quest for a mud free, clean living and alcohol swigging festival is obviously not an un-accomplishable feat. The bands proved as good as, if not better than, those you would pay to see at a club never mind on the stage at ‘Glasto’, and the weather well, even though a stroke of luck, over exceeded my expectations of British festival season.
If this paves the way for future local events I see no reason to leave my back yard, never mind my home town.
No ill equipped porter cabins, no riotous crowds and no mud, now that’s my kind of day out. And when the temperature drastically dropped and the booze got too much for everybody, I wasn’t dreading getting into a sticky beer stained tent nor was I dreading attempting to get to sleep with the rave tent blasting right next to me.
Instead I looked forward to going home, stepping In to my PJ’s and slowly dropping off to sleep with no disruptions, well I may have had ‘Little Tremors’ in my dreams......