The festival's most entertaining front man is, by a country mile, Jarvis Cocker. His colourful, between song digressions are frequently priceless and, on the odd occasion, better than the songs themselves.


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Here come The Rapture. They are loud, they are rowdy, they are woo-yeah funkay for tha laydeez - but frankly, they are also a bit dull. Come in, let’s be honest, the flavour has drained a little from all this knowingly retro punk-funk now that the formula has been hammered to death by every disco-rock chancer from London to New York and back.


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It's good to see the UNCUT Arena pretty much rammed by the time Cherry Ghost come on, just after 3pm, a lot of interest being show to this Lancashire five-piece.


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OK, so far today I've caught some fine comedy from Phill Jupitus, and been dragged by Farah towards a showgirl workshop in the Cabaret Tent. Oh, and earlier this morning I bumped into a bloke called Danny Kerwin.


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Last night, we went feral in the woods. It’s not often you see your editor at a rave, and a rave in the woods at that, but last night UNCUT’s Allan Jones was getting down with the kids to all manner of dub-step and breakbeat classics. And he didn’t even mention Nick Lowe until 2.40 in the morning.


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Damon Albarn, being something of a native as he hails from nearby Colchester, closes tonight's set by The Good, The Bad & The Queen by displaying his intimate knowledge of the A12. It's perhaps not the most rock 'n' roll way to end a festival, but then The Good, The Bad & The Queen aren't necessarily going to play by the rules.


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Ah, so this is art rock, Latitude style. Sad to report, it does nothing very much for me. But I guess it's always going to be hard to follow the Hold Steady.


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Something of a full afternoon, I have to report. So busy, in fact, I've only just got round to my first beer of the day. But, happily, I also had my first Latitude highlight: Bat For Lashes.


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Or, what I did this morning at Latitude. Despite feeling relatively delicate today (ah, bless the pear cider), a gentle stroll round the Latitude site does wonders for the constitution.


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Or the stuff that happens after dark. I'm reporting on Latitude's nocturnal shenanigans, the prime focus of which is Sean Rowley and his Guilty Pleasures empire.


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Editor's Letter

White Fence, OOIOO, Ty Segall, other stuff...


One of the many privileges and occasional disorientations of working for a monthly music mag is that we hear some music so far ahead of release that it can be easy to forget when the albums actually come out. So while the world of Ty Segall-related projects might have moved on...