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It had taken six hours to get there and, after battling with a tent for an hour and a half, I began to question how I’d thought trying a new festival in the middle of nowhere - sorry Suffolk - was a good idea. But on that Thursday evening, I remembered why. It really was magical. Lights in the trees, multi-coloured sheep and lightshows projected on water, all showing it’s not your average festival. This isn’t just a music festival either. I found myself camping with a bunch of drama students, and every show on their itinerary was cabaret, comedy and theatre.
Friday kicked off with Here We Go Magic, who played to a small crowd on the main stage. Laura Marling was on next. It was strange to hear her on such a large stage compared to her typical intimate venues and it was quite disappointing; I love her work but I feel a main stage wasn’t the place for it. Wild Beasts became my newest love, the vocals were astounding. I spent most of the day looking forward to the evening though, as the highlight was The National, and they did not disappoint. Personally it would be ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’ over the shrieks and wails of Florence Welch any day.
Saturday was the busiest day, and I found myself stressing over clashes as I scrawled bands and times onto my arm. It started with School of Seven Bells, probably the most beautiful band on the planet, and not just in a musical sense; they were stunning! I dragged my friend to Frightened Rabbit and converted him to their intensely Scottish ways. The evening started with that delightful performance from the doped up Crystal Castles who informed the largely blissfully unaware audience of the awful and unfortunate events of the evenings before, so we swiftly left for The Horrors, who carefully avoided all those awkward tracks from their first album but stuck to their perfect record, Primary Colours. Noah and the Whale bored me, but from the look of everyone around me I wasn’t the only one. Then came The XX. Don’t get me wrong, they were good. They drew in a packed crowd of all ages, but their set was too short. So short that I managed to make it to the main stage for Scottish old timers Belle & Sebastian’s closing numbers. I spent the rest of my evening exploring more of Latitude’s unique and delightful entertainment. Daniel Kitson telling me a bedtime story by a lake? Sure. A female barbershop group in the woods with some circus freaks? Why not? But the weirdest thing for me had to be watching a woman spinning round my head from her hair.
Sunday held some really pleasant surprises. Antlers played one of the best sets of the weekend, and Jamie Lidell left me breathless, not just from the dancing! I was disappointed by Mumford & Sons who I found almost boring, and I didn’t feel they deserved the massive crowd that showed. The evening presented two very intense live music performances. First was Jonsi, with his insane costumes and melodic dream-like tracks from Go. And then came the closing at the Word Arena, which had become my home for the weekend, Grizzly Bear. And oh my, what a way to close a festival. Bands throughout the day had cited their excitement for them and their set was perfect. ‘Knife’ gave me goosebumps.
So, had my six hour journey been worth it? Yes. Did the Tom Jones crowd surge, or the rape stories put me off in any way? Not at all. The food was horrendously overpriced (as always) and the Latitude dedication to being family-friendly was at times not the best idea. I don’t think a lot of middle class parents with sleepy toddlers appreciated Crystal Castles voicing their opinion of the rapists for example. But I saw some of my favourite bands in one place. The whole weekend was so relaxed, the weather was perfect and I came back with more new people to listen to than disappointments from performers. Where else can you choose between watching morph-suited clowns marry two bearded men inside a tepee or a performance of Swan Lake, actually in front of a lake? Only at Latitude. And that’s why I loved it.
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