Welcome to Waitsville. A place where bad jokes are good, Vaudeville never died, and the talk is of smoking monkeys, weasels and the mating habits of the preying mantis.


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It’s the moment half way through the set when she arrives, with a swish of the curtain, on stage astride a giant silver skull, wearing a flowing red trouser suit and cap, that we realise we just aren’t in Kansas any more, Toto.


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“Given though this is a family affair, we all know someone who’s a meth head or a speed freak,” thus it is that Kim Deal endears herself to the good ladies and gentlemen of Latitude.


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The good folk of Latitude are becoming more lucid and lyrical, as guest blogger Terry Staunton has discovered...


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Here's some lists compiled by the UNCUT collective here at Latitude.


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We are, of course, victims to the capricious whims of fate – particularly in relation to the wind and the tricksy way it displaces sound at festivals. You might, for instance, find yourself bewitched by some contemporary ballet going on down by the lake, only for the mournful hymns of a lone cellist who’s soundtracking the dance to be rudely drowned out by some shouty indie band on a nearby stage.


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Our man in the battered cowboy hat, Terry Staunton, has been out earwigging on festival goers conversations. Here's his latest report from the frontline of Latitude...


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So it's official, then. The song of choice for nocturnal dancing shenanigans is Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now", which I've heard something like six times at various locations over the last two nights. Last night, it was at the Lake Stage, courtesy of My Ex Boyfriends' Records, and then in the Sunrise Arena, being played by the chaps at Feeling Gloomy. I assume Sean Rowley also played it, over at Guilty Pleasures, but to be honest I didn't make it that far out into the site last night. And anyway, there was a Bugsy Malone theme at Guilty Pleasures, and I clean forgot to bring my spats with me.


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Since you were asking, here's some competitive prices from various food retailers:


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Once again, we've been ear-wigging for words of wisdom from Latitude's great unwashed...


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Editor's Letter

Introducing… Elvis Costello: The Ultimate Music Guide


In June 1977, Allan Jones of the Melody Maker took a familiar route to the offices of Stiff Records in West London. His appointment, that day, was with a notably irascible young singer-songwriter from Hounslow. In the course of a frequently startling interview, the man who had chosen to call...