Latitude Festival 2011 (Sunday)

Latitude prides itself as being “more than just a music festival”. As well as the main music stages, there are arenas devoted to comedy, poetry, literature, film and music, cabaret and theatre. There are smaller areas too, offering everything from activities for children to yoga classes, dance troupe performances to interactive art.

Despite the range of activities, however, it's the music on offer that continues to attract many a keen festival-goer to Latitude. In addition to staging sets by some of the most exciting up-and-coming bands, each year includes notable appearances by artists who you won't see on the bill at other mainstream music festivals and more established artists trying something a bit different. For example, this year featured Guillemots playing live over a screening of Park Chan Wook's 2004 film Oldboy and a specially commissioned a cappella choral work by Imogen Heap played over a 1920's silent surrealist movie. Hardly something you'd find at Reading or Leeds...

The first act we saw was Scala and Kolacny Brothers. Scala are a Belgian female choir who have covered a wide range of popular music in their fifteen years working together; from Rammstein to Manu Chao, from Puddle of Mudd to The Knife. The choir are probably most well-known for their cover of Radiohead's Creep, which was featured on the soundtrack to the movie The Social Network.

Scala's hour-long set included covers of Marilyn Manson and Prince, a guest male vocalist with an electro-acoustic guitar and a turn-of-the-century-sounding hardcore techno number. It was an unusual but enjoyable start to the day, a musical fusion of genres that appealed to a wide audience. And, I imagine, a very different experience from seeing Glee live.

After Scala, Joe and I went to check out the London Contemporary Orchestra (an orchestra which, for as much of the performance as we saw, comprised of just a string quartet and a backing track). Whilst the musicians were clearly very talented individuals, the piece they chose to open with was made up of four very separate parts, further pre-recorded string instruments and a spoken voice coming through the speakers. As a result, the orchestra were given very little opportunity to showcase themselves working together as a collective, and so watching them live was rather unexciting.

Leaving the Film and Music Arena, we hopped back over to the Obelisk Arena for a performance from Kele (of Bloc Party fame). Having seen (and been impressed by) Bloc Party's live performances on a number of occasions, I was concerned that Kele's solo set would lack the power that makes Bloc Party's so incredible. My fears were soon put to rest, for Kele's set turned out to be one of the highlights of the day. Fun and energetic, he got the crowd bouncing in the rain; tearing his way through solo material from his self-titled début album, The Boxer, before moving onto electronic versions of some of the Bloc Party back catalogue.

Joe and I then made our way from the Obelisk Arena to the Word Tent for some more electro-inspired indie pop in the form of The Naked and Famous. I'd seen the Naked and Famous at a small music venue in Oxford and found their performance to be surprisingly boring (the support act, Alpines, were much more interesting), so my expectations weren't all that high. However, their Latitude performance to a packed-out Word Tent felt like an entirely different band. Exciting and intense, The Naked and Famous worked the crowd into a frenzy; the electric, joyful atmosphere inside the tent a stark contrast to the pouring rain outside.

After a short break from music to watch the excellent Adam Buxton do a live show in the Comedy Arena, the rain had stopped and Joe and I split to separate stages – he took a visit to the Sunrise Arena to check out Oh Land, whilst I went to listen to Clock Opera on the Lake Stage, a stage curated by Radio 1's Huw Stephens. I've been a big fan of Clock Opera for a while now, in particular their remixes (check out their remix of Marina and the Diamonds's I Am Not A Robot here). Clock Opera were supposed to be supporting Everything Everything at a gig I attended at Bristol's Thekla last year, but were replaced at the last moment, so I was determined to see them on this occasion. Their set was brilliant; a fantastic fusion of indie-pop and electro that has only served to make me more excited for a forthcoming début album.

Yet more electro-pop followed after, in the form of Everything Everything. The Mercury-nominated band put on a blinding set that included new material, proving to their rapidly growing following that their live performances are just as thrilling as their album.

As the rain started to pour once again, we headed off to the Comedy Tent once more for some laughter, care of Nathan Caton and Alan Carr. Towards the end of the Alan Carr set, I left Joe and headed to see Foster the People in the Sunrise Arena. Unfortunately, the popularity of the band has grown so much over the past few weeks that I was unable to get anywhere near the tiny arena. Must try again at Reading...

I was surprised that Lykke Li managed to draw such a crowd for her unique brand of what I consider to be quite alternative pop. I've been a fan of hers since before the release of Wounded Rhymes but seeing as her music has never crossed over to the mainstream, to play a 10,000 (I'm guessing) capacity tent just before the headline slot seemed like a schedule error to me. Her set was much darker than when I last saw her play live – she was dressed in a swooping black veil and the stage remained dark and bathed in dry ice for much of her performance. The crowd seemed to appreciate the mysterious, elusive and bass-heavy performance, but equally started whooping and bouncing the moment that Get Some started.

And so finally, to the headliners, Suede. For Joe, the whole weekend had been building up to Suede but for me, this was probably the part I was least looking forward to. The Britpop era of the early 90's almost entirely passed me by, so I know very little of Suede's music. I had visions that I'd be the odd-one-out in a field of drunken revellers, all singing at the top of their lungs. I should have known better. Latitude is a festival that celebrates music, not obsesses over it. Sure, there was the occasional über-fan, but there were plenty of people who were just there for the experience, and I was one of them. I wasn't enamoured with Suede's performance, but I never expected to be. Brett Anderson's vocals missed the spot on more than one occasion, and he worked the stage so much that he came across as arrogant at times. But the band was tight, and worked well together and the set was, on the whole, enjoyable.

If you haven't experienced a big festival before, you can't go far wrong with Latitude. It has sufficient capacity to attract some decent names to the bill, but is small enough to maintain an intimate, friendly feel. It's possible to move from stage to stage without too much difficulty and to get towards the front of the crowd without feeling claustrophobic.

Of course, Latitude isn't without its faults; the arenas (the Comedy Arena, in particular) are too small to accommodate some of the more popular acts, and the lack of co-ordination between the car park officials meant that, after the music had stopped and reality resumed, my car had to be towed out of the mud by a tractor from a nearby farmer (surely, this would only happen in the UK...). However, these are minor quibbles with what remains a very well-organised, interesting and, ultimately, fun festival.