Do festivals ok setlists? Can comedians compete with Rick Astley? So many questions from Standon Calling 2023.

Now here's a poser: do festivals ever choose what their acts say or play, onstage? It's one of those talking points that crops up as we weave between the comedy and music stages at another thumpingly fun edition of Standon Calling, which has grown from a birthday barbeque to a hugely impressive festival, two decades on: big names, new stars, and - this year - a few beloved legends.

This year even the music seems aimed at comedy fans too, with the brilliant Self Esteem - aka recent Taskmaster alumni Rebecca Lucy Taylor - headlining on the Saturday, and Sunday's big draw being Peter Kay's old support act, the resurgent Rick Astley.

Our first stop-off on the way in on Sunday is a music/comedy crossover too - Dick & Dom, DJing, and very entertaining they are too. You can tell the former bungalow dwellers take the big-tune mixing seriously now (or they do a good impression of two chin-stroking DJs, anyway), while taking turns to lark about and throw 'Bogeys!' t-shirts.

This is a rave for all ages. There's an older couple next to us, her dancing, him sitting quietly in a fold-up chair. Then D&D play 90s banger Zombie Nation by Kernkraft 400 and suddenly the old boy is up dancing too. Only Dick & Dom can do this.

A massive change of pace next though, as we berate the state of the nation. One likeable addition in recent years: the comedy area - The Lawn - now also features proper talks earlier in the day, and we catch The Guardian's John Crace, with a talk called Politics on Acid. It's ostensibly about his humorous political sketches, how the jokes now write themselves, but the Q&A can't help but get a bit heavier, with talk of Brexit blame, tactical voting and Keir Starmer's controversial strategy. Dick & Dom can't do this.

And it's a sea change again then as the comedy kicks in, with that classic festival crowd demographic: lots of kids right in front of the stage. And as the bill progresses, that question at the top of the page does spring up. Spring Day tests the waters with a bit of near-the-knuckle spice, but it's Sally-Anne Hayward who really pushes the envelope, as her set is pretty much full-on, after-the-watershed filth, but at 5.30pm. It's like someone turning up to do Jackanory and whipping out The Joy of Sex. Buckle up, kids!

So, on a festival comedy stage, do the bookers give the acts any guidance about the content of their material, or just leave it to the performers to judge it? Or is it up to the parents: bring kids to festival comedy at your own risk? Depends on the festival, perhaps. I imagine a good few have had angry letters (maybe just posts on Mumsnet) from sensitive parents who'd never set foot in a comedy club before, and didn't see it coming.

Still, there don't seem to be any offended walkouts here, and the tent gets packed for Lou Sanders, next - we're intrigued to see how she navigates a youthful crowd: will we get live Lou or the TV Sanders? Having watched Hayward from stage right she tones it down a bit, just a few saucy chat-up lines before some safer crowdwork involving pea tossing.

Still some classic Sanders frankness though: a casual aside about her stepdad's death - festive - and a brilliant bit about how she once cut her set short at another big festival, and actively names the "terrifying" booker she encountered. Let's hope her forthcoming book is in a similar vein.

We've still a comedy headliner to come, but the tent clears as compere Josh Howie reappears - not that it's his fault. A good 90% of the festival has trotted off to the main stage for the reborn Rick Astley, whose live comeback really began with those Peter Kay slots, in 2010, as the whole Rickroll phenomenon went global.

He gained a whole cooler new crowd recently too, by teaming up with the band Blossoms for an absolutely joyous Smiths tribute act, and we did wonder if he might throw one of those in. But there's only one song most people are gagging for - and Astley is more than happy to admit it.

That question again, though: what if Astley wanted to give up singing Never Gonna Give You Up? Is that song mentioned specifically in the contract? Imagine the fury if he'd slunk off without it. People have rioted for less.

Back in the comedy tent, meanwhile, that headliner is Rhys James. "How can I compete with Rick Astley?" he ponders. "Sing a song!" shouts someone a few rows back. "Go fuck yourself," says James, making the best of it.

Of course, Astley was always going to fwap out his big one, but that 'in the contract?' query was particularly pertinent for another main stage act: the sometime Spice Girl - and one-time Comic Relief chart-topper - Melanie C. Sporty has a few cracking songs of her own, but eventually answers the question on everyone's lips, well into her set: three Spice Girls songs in a row! Including the group's funniest lyric, the condom-related bit of 2 Become 1: "Be a little bit wiser, baby, put it on, put it on..."

Perhaps that's the way forward for saucy comics at music festivals then: feel free to go nuts, but throw in a bit of sexual health advice before you leave. And particularly at a festival. Stuffy parents can't really complain about that, now can they.