Festivals. These days its hard to know where to begin; with so many vying for our affections (and hard earned cash) you can’t see the wood for the trees. And with yet another Glastonbury washout, I decided this year should be the year of the new festival. Latitude, only in its second year and not too far from the madding crowd of London, it fitted the bill perfectly.

In the darkest depths of the south eastern countryside, just outside the nattily named Yoxford, we arrive. Our faint disappointment at missing Friday’s headliner Wilco was quickly replaced with elation when a door gaffe meant that all four of our female party were presented with backstage passes for the weekend! Whilst setting up my £5.00 Tesco tent, it became instantly obvious that Latitude has been marketed as a family orientated festival; buggies, babies and other little people were out in force which can be great for atmosphere, not so great for close proximity camping. After setting up base, we wondered through the festival grounds. It has to be said, physically, Latitude has it all; beautiful greenery illuminated by hundreds of fairy lights, untampered woodland, neon sheep and a glorious river running between camp and site – far from the haggard, baron fields we are accustomed to.

Music, for us began on Saturday. We were delicately yet masterfully eased in by the gentle genius of Natasha Kahn aka Bat for Lashes who, despite technical difficulties, sailed through her set and effortlessly filled the main stage area with her supernatural presence. In opposition, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, noted for their loathe approach to touring, failed to ignite the crowd and seemed to be boring even themselves. Odd, as I saw them bring down the house at Shepherds Bush Empire recently – some bands simply cannot transfer at festivals. Topping off Saturday night on the main stage, The Good the Bad and the Queen satisfied the upbeat crowd with a somewhat comedic battle for the limelight ensuing between old timers Damon Albarn and ex-Clash titan Paul Simonon. The top hats and political undertones provided a suitable juxtaposition to our next port of call – a dj set by Rob da Bank. Brilliant. Rob da Bank rejects the cool or obscure for a crowd pleasing set packed with the likes of the Prodigy and KLF, securing his position as an elite dj; the crucial element being the ability to read a crowd. A little over-excited, we scurry back to camp and almost immediately we are reprimanded for the commotion: ‘Excusing me, my children are trying to sleep!’ or ‘I have work in the morning’ became something of a motto for the croc-wearing liberals that seem to have forgotten the essence of the festival experience. They couldn’t dampen our spirits though as daylight beckoned.

Feeding fragility with fried foods seemed a wonderful way to start as we headed to the main stage for most promising line-up the weekend. First up, Hoosier. Granted, they gave it their best but no amount of Jeff Buckley-esque wailing could inspire the lethargic crowd. And then, the heavens opened. In the spirit of the festival and generally ‘wacky’ behaviour, we donned the nearest bin bags as makeshift ponchos and went about our business.
Blissfully, the sun broke through the clouds just in time for the limitlessly talented Andrew Bird who with his unique brand of tender vocals, charmed the seated crowd basking in the summer heat. Upping the ante, Cold War Kids stormed the stage with one of the most outstanding performance of the weekend. Their style of southern, bluesy rock really lends itself to the baking festival heat. And they’re not bad to look at either. Just in case things were getting a little too serious, The Rapture hit the main stage and chime through their greatest hits to the delight of the all ages crowd. Watching a middle aged bald man in a kagoul lose himself to House of Jealous Lovers was a truly heart-warming image.

Though we were all flagging, the music carried us through and on to the penultimate act of the festival, Jarvis Cocker. I have always liked Jarvis, mainly for his unabashed eccentricity but after the pleasure of watching him perform from the side of the stage – I am now a convert. The guy can do no wrong. Competently striding through his solo work, convulsing his body, using every inch of the stage and charming us with his wit – Jarvis, we were wooed even before your inspired cover version of Eye of the Tiger. With endorphins flowing we took our position for the universally adored Arcade Fire. What a climax. As a long time fan I was dubious that they might disappoint on stage. How wrong I was. Not only do they engage with the crowd, showing a playfulness which is not always found on their albums but they also play their little hearts out; bashing out each hit with passion and vigour fed off the crowd before them. The rain teased down again, but we cared not. We were dancing. Hats off to Latitude. I, for one will be back next year. But now the secret’s out….