It’s the final day of the musical extravaganza that is the Great Escape and the punters are out in force.

We opt for a low-key start and check out Plaster at Sumo, a venue more used to playing funky house and serving overpriced cocktails then catering to bearded indie kids.

Plaster are Montreal based Canadians who combine live instruments, samples and various gadgets to create some thumping dance music. I used to think that being bottom of the bill meant you were the shittest band. Not so, they are the best thing we see that night. The keyboardist seems to be doing about seven things at once as he creates an ambient element to the sound but the live bass and funky breakbeats really get things cooking.

If I was drunk I would have broke out into some body-popping but instead we do our nodding dog impressions.

Next we have Tuung who are tipped by the Barfly as being worth a listen. They start badly as they have some sound gremlins and have to stop before they get started. It doesn’t look hopeful when we realise that the sound engineer looks like he has been dragged through a hedge backwards and is more concerned with getting some Rizlas then sorting out the sound.

Once they get going they veer from tuneful to decidedly amateurish and some of their songs remind me of our little Christmas get togethers with me bashing away on the guitar while the rest of the gang howl along to Do They Know It’s Christmas? O.K, they are not that bad but my suspicions are confirmed when they invite one of the audience to shake a maraca and sing backing vocals. Bless the wierdy beardies.

Because of the 30min delay our schedule has been compromised so we have to rush to our intended destination to see The Kooks. I had a feeling the venue was going to be popular draw. What I didn’t realise was that everyone and there dog would turn up early ensuring that by the time we had got to the Old Stein there was a queue for the queue and there was no hope in hell we would get in.

Shame, but like ex-boyscouts that we are (I’m not sure about Barfly, he may have been too busy with his many paper rounds to bother dib-dib-dibbing) we had a plan B. Unfortunately, that too went tits up along with pland C and D as all the other venuse had big fat queues in front of them. So you will never hear how great/crap The Kooks/Tapes ‘n Tapes/Morning Runner/Longcut ‘cos we wcouldn’t get in. This would be my only criticism of the festival. Demand had outstripped supply on the Saturday and unless you were lucky or really early you ended up watching rubbish.

We that in mind we finally got into the Ocean Rooms who didn’t have bands that anyone had heard of on the bill. We catch the last three songs of Fell City Girl who look exceedingly young and have a vocalist with a voice reminiscent of Thom Yorke. They sound pained but promising.

Clearlake headline and according to Barfly having been knocking around for a few years and are signed to Franz Ferdinand’s Domino label without really getting anywhere. It’s easy enough to see why. Despite being competent enough they rarely get out of second gear and come across as a poor man’s Bluetones/Muse depending on whether they intend to sound dark or jaunty.

The singer stupidly asks whether we had been here all night. He is quickly told, no. He seems to be impressed that there was such a large turn out for his band. He continues his unadvised ramble about getting into the Spiegeltent (where the Kooks are playing) later to get drunk. He is quickly told that like most of the audience, he won’t get it. Why do you think people would choose your rubbish band ahead of the better stuff on offer? They redeem themselves by playing a song that sounds like Girls Aloud’s "Love machine".

All in all the festival is a great showcase for music on the fringes and I predict that it will be bigger and better next year.