The curious comic apprenticeship of Belushi, Aykroyd… and Chevy Chase

Old master Clint delivers career high points

They call this time the gloaming -- night coming down, all colours leached from the sky. It seems a remarkably appropriate moment for the Arcade Fire to take the stage and close Latitude Year two with an enormous bang. And some fireworks.

Jarvis and Gruff Rhys round off a great day in the field, catch up here

The last few hours of Latitude 2007 and it’s starting to feel like the fall of Saigon, but only in a genteel and latte-sipping way. As night engulfs the woods and almost the entire remaining crowd is sucked towards Arcade Fire’s headline set, there are precious few refuges left for cultural dissidents who may be immune to epic Canadian folk-rock.

Euros Childs also plays a stunning set at the Sunrise Arena

Mark Lanegan, undoubtedly one of this planet’s greatest singers, hasn’t put a foot wrong in the last fifteen years. Tonight, he’s exemplary once again, but it’s hard to shake the feeling he’s made his first mistake.

As Uncut’s temporary Welsh psych-folk correspondent, I’m pleased to report that the – admittedly small – scene is in fine fettle.

It's a criminal shame that one of the finest bands to come out of the planet's lower end should play to a half-empty tent. Australian indie charmers Howling Bells were more than up to the challenge, proving unequivocally that a voice like a loudhailer channelling angels can overcome anything – even having Arcade Fire as their audience competition.

The former Pulp frontman plays his first major UK festival