Friday overview

So, after winning the entirely fictional award for 'Best Festival In It's Debut Year' last year, Latitude comes back around in an attempt to prove that lightning can indeed strike twice. It was easily the festival of the summer in 2006, and the question on everyone's lips was "could they pull it off again?"

Given that the debut year was bathed in sunshine from start to finish, it came as a shock to the system when the heavens opened early on. Thankfully I was in the Poetry Tent, witnessing one of the first sets from this year's curator, Luke Wright. Part performance poet, part stand-up comic, Wright wasted no time in getting the Latitude crowd onside, quipping "It's raining then... this is a new one for Latitude", pointing out that it had never rained at the festival before, "Don't worry, it won't be Glastonbury... Glastonbury is a war, here is more like an EU summit". And he's right. Latitude, whilst it seems to aspire to become just like its spiritual big brother, is a much gentler, nicer affair.



Mercifully, the rain held on just long enough for Wright to entertain us with a couple of poems about 'Channel 4' and 'One Night Of Madness', which is a superb piece about last year's Ikea riots in Edmonton. As always, he was superb, and it is no surprise that he is running the show in the poetry tent this year. I sense many people will be back over the course of the weekend to catch more of his acerbic, satirical wit.

It's a music festival though, despite what the posters say, so once the rain has cleared I head off in search of some bands. Quite by accident I find Grace opening up proceedings on the Uncut stage. Without being over-dramatic, they are one of the best bands of the weekend. The small crowd which bears witness to their uplifting yet melancholy set are left in no doubt that they have seen something special from a band who are surely just waiting for their stroke of luck to propel them into the big time. 'Sink Like A Stone' and 'Wonderful' typify this perfectly executed opening set.


Up next on the same stage are Sonic Hearts, and one would be forgiven for expecting some kind of novelty act, considering that frontman Sean Butler takes to the stage dressed as Marvel superhero, Iron Man. The costume is merely a distraction though, as the real treat is in the band's music. This is a band that make perfect summery pop, and it is made even more charming by Butler's constant awe at the size of the crowd before him. Highlights of the set include 'Number Song' and Zutons-esque 'Hold On', which gets the whole tent moving.



So far so good - two bands in, and both have been excellent, but it's up to the accidentally outdoor Obelisk Arena to try for the hat-trick, as opening up over there is The Kissaway Trail. Hailing from Odense in Denmark, this much vaunted five-piece took to the stage and showed why many had them down as unmissable. Like a stripped down Arcade Fire jamming with Mercury Rev, they were awesome. 'Smother+Evil=Hurt' was so good it was painful, and this is a band you simply have to see - trust me, you'll love them.

I shouldn't have to tell you how good Fields are, as anyone who likes music at all should already own their debut album, 'Everything Last Winter'. Killer vocal harmonies, tunes which belie their youth, and an onstage professionalism which would make more established bands weep with envy. I've now seen them more times than I care to count, and each time they get better. This set on the Uncut stage was no different, and after being treated to destined-to-be-classics including 'Song For The Fields' and the awesome 'If You Fail We All Fail', I left the tent wondering how long the world could go on ignoring this band.



In the name of journalistic integrity, I decide to check out the comedy tent. I wish I hadn't, as seeing heroes destroyed is never pleasant. It started off well enough, with a fired up Paul Tonkinson, who seemed to thrive on the packed crowd who were clearly just there to see his successor, Bill Bailey. By the time the latter arrived on stage, anticipation levels were at fever-pitch, and the tent was, to say the least, rammed. Bailey, however, didn't keep up his end of the bargain. Putting in much the same set as at Glastonbury at fortnight before, he simply seemed to be going through the motions. I suppose you can have too much of a good thing, but at least I'll know not to bother seeing Bailey at a festival ever again.

So given the level of success my foray into the comedy tent was, I decided to head back towards my natural habitat, and as if blessed I landed in front of the Obelisk Arena just as The Magic Numbers were taking to the stage. They simply tore through a selection of crowd-favourites from both their wonderful debut, and its follow-up, 'Those The Brokes'. Romeo Stoddart and company appeared to be having the time of their lives on stage, and I get the feeling this is just the tip of the iceberg for them. 'Take A Chance' is sublime, and 'Love Me Like You' lights up the field. The Magic Numbers could just become the best band in the world.



With all the preamble out of the way, it was time for Damien Rice, the man the cool kids love to hate. If you want to read the in-depth review, you'll find it somewhere near where you found this one, but suffice to say, he was phenomenal. Taking to the stage like a man possessed, he took the singer-songwriter rule book, and tore it up in front of us. This is a man who knows he has the power, the presence and the material to stand up in front of a doubting crowd and show them that he can put on the very best of shows, and that is exactly what he did.

So, not a bad first day then. Some awesome acts on show, and I head back to my tent wondering if Latitude can maintain this standard for the rest of the weekend. If it can, it may just have its eye on big brother's festival crown.

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