Buckley jeff

Organiser says Laughing Len stole the show at the 2008 bash

It is, by most standards, quite an entrance. Joan Wasser arrives onstage at Club Uncut with a mug of tea in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other, and a pair of giant plastic sunglasses that appear to have some kind of beaklike noseguard attachment. They’re so preposterous, in fact, that Wasser can’t bring herself to sing in them. For the rest of the long, hot night of this Joan As Police Woman solo show (her bandmates are waiting for her in Florence), they’ll act as an occasional prop to add emphasis to her between-song chats. About Uncut, say, and what she always thinks of first when she hears the magazine’s name. . .

Up at six this morning, as usual, though the Radiohead album didn't arrive to download until, I think, about ten to seven. I played "In Rainbows" for the first time on the bus coming in to the office, and it was one of those records that seems dramatically suited to sitting in traffic on the A10, watching the commuters. Oh, the alienation!

Today: Jeff Buckley, 12 Bar, 1994

A lively afternoon at Latitude today, where the conditions are fluctuating between blazing sunshine and torrential rain. It's oddly suitable for Andrew Bird, whose fascination with meteorology led him to call one of his old albums "Weather Systems".

Afternoon, lovely day here at Latitude, pretty densely populated with singer-songwriters, it has to be said. I started the day at the lovely Sunrise stage in the woods(apparently, its strikingly mellow atmosphere was fractured yesterday when Les Rita Mitsouko got booed off).

Chaos! Destruction! Ennui! An opulent masterpiece from pop's jaded bohemian

Sixth from Chicago’s Buckley-esque violin virtuoso

Inspired indie-verité from California’s palest band

Praise be: fourth album from Jim James and his 21st Century southern rockers