The thing about Latitude is that it is impossible to see everything. There is always something you miss because you are having such a good time somewhere else. The festival is also a bit of a victim of its own success, particularly where comedy is concerned. There were two shows in limited capacity tents that I wanted to see which I couldn’t get into. Jack Dee’s Help Desk was already full when I arrived, but they said I could put my ear to the wall and listen. I politely declined. I went back later in the day to see a work-in-progress version of Mark Thomas’s new show, but the queue was already snaking through the forest so I gave it a miss. Life is too short to queue at Latitude.

As well as the shows I’ve reviewed elsewhere there were plenty more comedy highlights. Tommy Tiernan was on masterful form, raging away from the moment he walked onstage. My notes instantly evoke the literary absurdism of the verbal pictures he paints, particularly when he is describing Ireland: “a three-legged boy rides by on a one-legged horse”. He was also very good talking about how he once considered joining the priesthood and how the Irish are basically Algerians who got lost. He was a little bit depressing when it comes to discussing mortality – I don’t know why he is so depressed, there is clearly a lot of life in the old Irish dog yet.

Another highlight was James Acaster, giving us a taste of his forthcoming Edinburgh show. Not a word is wasted in Acaster’s stories as he talked about conga lines and those things at the seaside where you put your face through and have your picture taken. He also offered some handy money-saving loopholes when going to Starbucks and Pret A Manger. Not just brilliant stand-up, consumer advice too. 

The comedians come so thick and fast sometimes you really have to sell yourself to get the audience’s attention. Romesh Ranganathan got the crowd laughing by sheer force of personality, righteous anger and gloriously grumpy gags. Joel Dommett won them over with a recording of his old pre-stand-up nu metal band. I like Dommett, he’s kind of like Simon Amstell without the angst. Or maybe not so much angst.

Josie Long is definitely hitting a rich vein of form again this year after skipping Edinburgh last summer, though I was a bit disappointed that she has gone for a personal show rather than a political one this time. I’m not sure if it enough just to say that this government is a bunch of crooks (I’m paraphrasing) and then move on and it’s a but disingenuous for such an inventive, intelligent comedian to say that she can’t add any more to the subject.

Having said that, her show, about her recent relationship problems and her search for romance, is very funny and touching. I was talking to someone the other night about who is even in the same ballpark as Daniel Kitson when it comes to being an articulate, natural storyteller and I guess that Long is one of the few who comes close to Kitson. Anyway, this was a warm-up so I won't go into further detail, but if you are in Edinburgh go and see her.

So who else was good? Seann Walsh was a hair-flying, heady blur of booze-based anecdotes, as the picture of him here shows. Obviously Katherine Ryan was a hit – her solid gold Beyonce routine never fails. Vikki Stone was OK, but there were quite a few walk-outs. Four middle-aged women in front of me got up as soon as she mentioned tubes of lube and I don’t think her catchy, jaunty songs in which she lusted after Phillip Schofield and Brian Cox would have won them round.

All pics © Bruce Dessau