A lively afternoon at Latitude today, where the conditions are fluctuating between blazing sunshine and torrential rain. It's oddly suitable for Andrew Bird, whose fascination with meteorology led him to call one of his old albums "Weather Systems".

Down by the lake this morning, there's a large band dressed like bad mime artists in boho pierrot gear. At ten thirty, the flute and oboe players are making bird noises at each other from opposite banks of the lake.

It's been a night of being proved wrong, for me at least, at Latitude. As I'm walking across the site, I can hear The Good, The Bad And The Queen, and they sound really good. I'd previously pegged them as a rather self-conscious trip into psychogeography and musicianly fandom for Damon Albarn. But here the overworked fug clears and the elegaic true quality of the songs - and those Simonon basslines, of course - comes to the fore.

At some point in the last few years, Rickie Lee Jones appears to have subtly evolved from the Duchess Of Coolsville into a spiritual, raging poet-figure who comes across like a West Coast counterpart of Patti Smith.

How many times have people written this summer about The Hold Steady being the unexpected hits of a festival? Enough times, I guess, for the hardest-working band in showbusiness to become blase about these sort of shows. The thing is, as Craig Finn surveys the crowd with undisguised glee, it's clear that this remarkable band's appetite for rock'n'roll is still heroically potent.

Afternoon, lovely day here at Latitude, pretty densely populated with singer-songwriters, it has to be said. I started the day at the lovely Sunrise stage in the woods(apparently, its strikingly mellow atmosphere was fractured yesterday when Les Rita Mitsouko got booed off).

This weekend Uncut is coming live from the Latitude Festival, and you can keep up to speed with all the latest news and reviews by visiting our dedicated site for...

So after much heated debate, here are our favourite things from the first day at the Uncut-sponsored Latitude Festival:

Damn, what a band! I've seen Wilco so many times over the years, but they never cease to knock me sideways. And one of the great things - one of the many great things, actually - about tonight's show at Latitude is that the audience is not one of those over-reverential and often weird crowds that have frequently freaked out Jeff Tweedy when he's visited the UK.

Not many stars spotted here as yet, but I did just see a dragonfly in the bogs, which was moderately impressive. I was on my way to the Uncut tent, where Tinariwen played a tremendous set.