latitude festival

A hazy wander through the festival site on the first day is rewarded with a number of hidden gems, the first of which comes in the shape of Sheffield two-piece Slow Club, on the Huw Stephens stage. Their scattered brand of dulcet, harmonised anti-folk is met with sleepy smiles of appreciation as drowsy punters laze amid the grass in mid-afternoon sunshine. A pint and pizza slice later, and we discover that the Uncut stage is currently being entertained by the jagged, new wave riffs and rhythms of Albert Hammond Jr. Combining frantic guitar with an accessible, pop-laden vocal formula, he carries off a surprisingly uncringeworthy solo attempt. Next up, Patrick Wolf gives a flamboyant, Smirnoff Ice-fuelled performance, bouncing about the stage with drunken delight. With double bass and ‘cello players, a programmer and multiple backing vocalists gathered around him, the South London popstart leads the audience through waves of moody folk, spangling pop and string-laden electronica. As Saturday beckons, there’s no more time to dally and experiment; even beer runs are cut short in favour of stage loitering. We head over to the Obelisk stage for a lukewarm, if energetic set from CSS. Although toe tappingly fun - and subsequently perfect for the summery festival atmosphere- they fail to rouse the crowd into anything more than piqued attention, largely born out of the opportunity to boast about having seen them. Merely an hour after CSS’ sun soaked set, an inky black sky greets the arrival of The Good, the Bad and the Queen. Bathed in deep blue lights, the Britpop maestro glides over the keys of a baby grand in an oversized, furry top hat. His voice washes over the crowd like a litany, rendering any comment on his haggard appearance irrelevant and drawing dazed punters from food stands, tents and benches alike. Effortlessly intricate and overwhelming, the set almost renders us satisfied enough to roll over and bask in the memory of it. Almost, that is - until we catch whispers of a forest party hosted by none other than DJ extraordinaire Rob da Bank, who entertains a heaving crowd below a canopy of trees into the early hours of Sunday morning. Off the back of an impromptu sing along to the Arcade Fire ‘s ‘Rebellion (Lies)’ in the woods, the anticipation is audible the next morning, as crowds of festival goers wind their way through the site with all eyes on the headliners. The collective buzz of excitement surrounding the band renders most acts’ attempts to engage audiences pretty useless. However, original nu ravers, The Rapture, manage to warm up the Obelisk arena loiterers pretty well and their rhythmic, moody pop is met with mild recognition. Jarvis Cocker’s early evening arrival is disappointingly unanticipated, and The Arcade Fire’s whirlwind of hype floors the old skool genius. Nevertheless, the man’s experience is gapingly obvious as he struts about the stage, keeping even the most forward thinking utterly rapt, and finishing with a hilarious – and high quality- cover of ‘Eye of the Tiger’. Cue the Arcade Fire and a subsequent onslaught of fireworks and flying lanterns. The whole field’s hair stands on end as they hurl a barrage of sound to the heavens, splitting them for only the second time that weekend during ‘Neighbourhood’s instrumental interlude. With a nervous, sleep deprived and sunburnt audience, this performance tears everything away, leaving ears and minds awash with the pure, merciless sound and experience of this Canadian five-piece. Picturesque, with high quality, handpicked headliners, Latitude is a must for next year - catch it before the Kate Moss crowd does.