Latitude 2010: Day 2

Like something in the headlights, we wake up with battered head to Frightened Rabbit, the equivalent of sunshine in a sponge – squeezy, refreshing Scottish solaris. That Frightened Rabbit are earnest is beyond question – the superb ‘Swim Until You Can’t See Land’ is a highlight of the weekend – but you can’t help feeling their reluctance to seize the spotlight might be the ultimate epitaph that gives their moniker an ironic verisimilitude.

Noah And The Whale can’t even find a foot to be found wrong at the moment – their sheer earnestness has earned them, in our view, virtual critical amnesty. Why? Because their honesty has beaten us all. When you wear your entire heart on your sleeve, no matter how insidious a critical tailor you might be, you cannot stitch this band up. Charlie Fink’s assertion that this is the “Best festival in the world” might seem a bit hyperbolic under other circumstances; but when ethereal opera ‘Blue Skies’ descends, in a festival of unbridled azure, the probability of greatness is tangible upon our fingertips.

A word for the Belle & Sebastian folk – a review myself and co-writer Charlie Ivens were supposed to collaborate on, because they’re such a divisive act between the two of us – I was surprised to find myself utterly charmed by their life-affirming set. Maybe it’s the surroundings, but the twee-heavy semi-jaundice of their output actually renders me helpless to their tractor-beam charm. Where tracks like ‘I’m A Cuckoo’ twangs its way into your heart with its self-effacing jangle, other songs like ‘Boy With The Arab Strap’ remind you that, beyond reservation and preconception, there are things in this world that can distract and divert you when you least expect it. Much like the festival itself – our first encounter and newfound love. As a wiser lady than myself called Marie so sagely points out at the end, Latitude is the Belle & Sebastian of festivals. Do not underestimate it. Love and Latitude are the answer.
 
Stephen Brolan