Cock Rock is an undoubtedly entertaining, if a little obscure festival

After packing wellington boots, track suit bottoms and an anorak, I headed off to the Cumbrian countryside feeling fully determined to prevent any deluge from dampening my spirits. Attending a festival entitled Cock Rock ensures that you have to endure mind numbing jokes from every man, woman and child who knows you're going. Having become increasingly exasperated by these horrendous attempts at humour, I was relieved to be heading down the motorway to Cockermouth.

Cock Rock might have been awarded for having a great name, but it doesn't have the greatest layout. Vehicles and tents are situated in the same field, meaning there's very little atmosphere within the camping section. The area surrounding the main stage seemed to be awash with very young chaps drinking very strong cider, which wasn't quite the first impression I'd been hoping for. My ears were pierced by a band's out of tune rendition of Pink's 'So What', as if the original wasn't painful enough. However, it wasn't all bad and I was keen not to let my misanthropy get the better of me. The festival's vibe salvaged some credibility thanks to the Green Area, which was a delightful selection of stalls, bars, and tents that were filled with smiling faces. I stumbled across what was, in essence, two bicycles welded together and spent a good five minutes flying around on them. One stall offered a pleasant range of real ale, which went down a treat. In fairness, drinks throughout the festival were very reasonably priced, something that cannot be said for many current festivals. Unbelievably, I found myself relaxing in some sunshine and things were looking up. I headed to the Bar Stage in time for two acts I'd been anticipating, John Mackie, and Where's Strutter.

Having been impressed by them both at the recent Friends Of Mine festival, I was looking forward to seeing them take to the stage again. John's soothing blend of acoustic rock was well received by Cockermouth's locals, who nodded their heads accordingly. He may have been knocking around for a while now, but songs like 'It's All Good' may give him the breakthrough he needs.

However, the night's main talking point was a set by the increasingly popular Where's Strutter? The Manchester chaps have crafted a new batch of songs that are, in no uncertain terms, phenomenal. Their recent, self-funded single 'You, Me And The Devil Makes 3' epitomises their ferocious, melodic blend of rock 'n' roll and sounded sharp at Cock Rock. Their heart felt anthem 'Winterford Road' was a personal highlight.

Strangely, I hadn't travelled to Cockermouth in anticipation of any of the headliners. Instead, I was looking forward to a host of unsigned bands that I had on my radar. Llandudno five piece, Catfish & The Bottlemen, revelled in an afternoon slot on the main stage. Their brilliantly written track 'Tyrants' managed to lure in half of Cockermouth.

A 9pm set by Dundee rockers, The Twist, brought absolute carnage to a previously lifeless crowd. Their perfect combination of frantic guitars and impeccable harmonies seemed to bring Cock Rock to life. I may have been less than complimentary about the festival's layout, but they certainly have a knack for booking some of Britain's most exciting, unsigned talent. A faultless rendition of 'On Yer Knees' was lapped up by an extremely appreciative crowd.

Named as one of HMV's hot tips for 2011, 12 Dirty Bullets are a band with enough decent songs to fill a jukebox. Given the right attention, they'd be massive. If you haven't heard their debut album 'Downsides To Making A Living', then you should have done, it's ace. However, it was their newer number 'Motown' that overwhelmed a considerably oiled selection of Cock Rock.

Due to not being a Cockermouth resident, I had felt a little alienated throughout the weekend. Despite this, I'd seen more than enough great music to remain firmly content in some glorious sunshine. Cock Rock is an undoubtedly entertaining, if a little obscure festival. A hilarious set by the bizarre Welsh chaps that make up Goldie Lookin' Chain brought my weekend to a close.

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