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Beth Jeans Houghton tiptoes into the centre of Borders from behind a shelf of graphic novels, accompanied by her drummer. Wearing a black, almost-dinner dress that fans at her waist and a precarious pair of heels that could quite easily constitute a health and safety risk, her striking look is topped off by a yellow and blue striped hat with peak.

The band revitalise Obelisk crowd after annoying rain fall

Beth Ditto and co. cause a bodysurf pile-up at Latitude

“Thank you, photographers,” says Nick Cave to the snappers in the pit in front of the stage, pointing to his right cheek. “Only print the ones from this side of my face.” It’s a rare moment of light-hearted banter, although he does later decline a punter’s song request, claiming the track in question has “too many chords for old men like us!”. It would appear he and The Bad Seeds are a little fatigued, after promoting Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! for the best part of 18 months, but they’ve still got just about enough in the tank to bring Latitude to a memorably electrifying close.

Magazine, who I last saw on the opening night of the Secondhand Daylight tour in Brighton, when they played as far as I know for the first time the truly scary “Permafrost”, a song Howard Devoto spent most of the drive down to the south coast describing to me , and I think I’ve got this right all these years on, as an essay in sheer terror.

The vision of half a dozen St Etienne fans waving Foxbase Alpha placards near the stage of the Obelisk arena confuses at first, until some sympathetic soul obviously whispers in their ear that they’re at the wrong part of the site, and they embarrassingly shuffle off towards the Uncut arena. For this is the hour of Editors, who may employ similar synth-like keyboards to Bob Stanley’s crew, but for less summery purposes.

Latitude closed tonight with headline sets from two of America’s greatest dance bands.

The cult Glaswegians appear at Latitude!

To the UNCUT Arena, then, and the Vaselines and St Etienne. Two bands who, although wildly different in sound and execution both, astonishingly, emerged from the same kind of cultural environment.