A house

Monkeys are joined by surprise guest for their biggest UK show

Mixed weather, a combination of torrential downpours and blazing sun, has resulted in bizarre sights this morning of people wearing combinations of spring, summer and winter attire, all splashed with a healthy dose of mud!

Hey, more festival fun to come... Our intrepid picture editor, May, and myself are off to Knowsley Hall tomorrow morning, and we'll be bringing you blogs and news from this latest addition to the growing list of festivals, located in the grounds of a stately home outside Liverpool.

We're down on the farm and taking in the immense atmosphere that is Glastonbury 2007.

Terrible weather forecast notwithstanding, I'm feeling a bit jealous of everyone heading off to Glastonbury this morning. Farah is representing for Uncut, and you should keep an eye on our festival blog, where she'll be filing reports all weekend.

THE RAPTURE It would hardly be a festival without a dash of delirious dance music and NYC’s The Rapture fulfil that requirement brilliantly on Sunday in the Obelisk Arena. Initially they led the punk-funk vanguard with their mix of nervy guitar, rubbery bass, barked vocals and squawking sax, but latest album ‘Pieces Of The People We Love’ was a more adventurous, euphoric and abandoned affair.

Live evil: reissue positions 'wind between Stooges and Comets On Fire

Check out Uncut.co.uk's round up of all the best bits

James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem is not, by most standards, a typical frontman. His band are second on the bill to Daft Punk in front of the Hyde Park thousands. But Murphy spends a good part of the set scratching his head, picking his ears and tinkering, obsessive-compulsively, with the tightness of his drummer's kit. Occasionally, he dances, pounding up and down on the spot like a post-punk Ozzy Osbourne. He does, though, manage to pull off one of the most curiously moving moments I've experienced at a gig in a long time.

James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem is not, by most standards, a typical frontman. His band are second on the bill to Daft Punk in front of the Hyde Park thousands. But Murphy spends a good part of the set scratching his head, picking his ears and tinkering, obsessive-compulsively, with the tightness of his drummer's kit. Occasionally, he dances, pounding up and down on the spot like a post-punk Ozzy Osbourne. He does, though, manage to pull off one of the most curiously moving moments I've experienced at a gig in a long time.