Mildly strange afternoon here at Latitude, which culminated in what a few of us are optimistically calling the Ross Noble Riot.

As the clouds gather, we’re readying ourselves for a weekend at Latitude. One more reminder that an extensive Uncut team will be blogging there non-stop from tomorrow morning. I’ll be vacating Wild Mercury Sound for the duration, and working on our special Latitude blog, where I imagine I’ll be covering Joanna Newsom, Elbow, Julian Cope, Michael Nyman, Wild Beasts and the children’s play area, amongst other things. Should be fun.

A bit stretched today, with next month’s issue nearly finished and a load of fiendish strategising to be done in preparation for the Latitude festival (I’ll be blogging live from there all weekend, incidentally, over at our dedicated blog).

I got into the office this morning and found that someone had left a message on the White Denim album blogI posted a while back. “I saw White Denim tonight, it read. “I just wasn't expecting the various angles and paces that would be involved. They were fookin’ superb.”

I got into the office this morning and found that someone had left a message on the White Denim album blogI posted a while back. “I saw White Denim tonight, it read. “I just wasn't expecting the various angles and paces that would be involved. They were fookin’ superb.”

There’s a line in The Hold Steady’s “Slapped Actress” that seems more apposite than ever right now. It’s the point where Craig Finn sings, “Some nights it’s entertainment and some other nights it’s just work,” though this afternoon, some might say significantly, he doesn’t actually sing the word “work”. We are watching the Hold Steady play in the sort of environment that, surely, must test even their unquenchable faith in the redemptive power of rock’n’roll and so on.

There’s a line in The Hold Steady’s “Slapped Actress” that seems more apposite than ever right now. It’s the point where Craig Finn sings, “Some nights it’s entertainment and some other nights it’s just work,” though this afternoon, some might say significantly, he doesn’t actually sing the word “work”. We are watching the Hold Steady play in the sort of environment that, surely, must test even their unquenchable faith in the redemptive power of rock’n’roll and so on.

I got a great email the other week from Jon Dale, Uncut’s man in Australia and one of our most diligent hunters of the esoteric. Our subsequent correspondence turned into a bit of a squabble about cassette tapes, of all things: Jon is a fan, as you can see from his excellent blog; I think there’s something rather elitist about disseminating new music on a virtually obsolete format. But I have to let that one go.

I was writing a headline for a piece on Crystal Castles in the current issue of Uncut and, after reading the feature a few times, ended up with this: “Scars. Skulls. Disease. Videogame blips. From Canada!”

Once again, it’s worth listening to the estimable opinions of Guy Garvey from Elbow who, you’ll remember, previews the Latitude festival in the current issue of Uncut. “Blondie’s my going-out music,” says Guy. “I don’t go to clubs very much, but if I decide I’m going out I put on a bit of Blondie first. I know it’s hard to picture, but I can cut a rug if I need to. I put ‘Atomic’ on every time.”