After convincing ourselves that summer had all but left us for another year, today’s weather had done its best to lead us to believe otherwise. What better way to end this lovely day with one of Wales’ finest songstresses, currently touring with the equally wonderful H. Hawkline and we catch up with them as they roll into Newcastle.

Having unfortunately missed the incomparable Rhodri Davies, Gwenno takes to the stage alone bathed in blue lights. She launches into a beautiful set filled with exquisite electronic beats, as she casts the odd striking look out toward the bedazzled crowd. We’re all firmly placed under Gwenno’s spell as she serenades us with her sweet Welsh tones.

She brings her wonderful record Y Dydd Olaf alive tonight, regaling us with tales of media manipulation set to the most intriguing of sci-fi influenced backdrop. Despite the record being based on a 1970s book, it’s incredible how it still holds such relevance right now. Her conversations with the crowd that fill any gaps are insightful, as she talks of the now defunct revolving dance floor of the boat on the Tyne.

Yet the sounds that this lady creates are the stars of the show, despite the sombre lyrics to tracks like Patriarchaeth shine through with its bouncy synths covering up the misery that is being conveyed. As the twinkling beats ring out we cannot help but swoon over the wonderful atmosphere that Gwenno effortlessly creates.

Whilst it may only be a short set we’re still completely in awe of Gwenno and the sheer beauty of her music, and as our other commitments call we have to forego the equally endearing and exciting H. Hawkline. However, we’re not sure if he could top Gwenno’s exceptional performance.

Saturday and Sunday at Incubate sees the festival expand to include a number of further venues playing host to free gigs. Of these the first to be visited was the Sounds record store, where Subbacultcha had lined up a good international bill. Torii prove to be both a very jangly prospect and one not afraid to let the space for a good solo go to waste. Melbourne's Terrible Truths were the last of the acts we caught here and their angular, B52s-like set was a hit with the small crowd and boded well for their main show later in the day. Next up came some immense instrumental rock from Groningen's North To The Night in the front window of Kim's Kroeg. These guys have an epic sound which would easily have worked well in the likes of Midi or Dudok so their half hour set was too short by half. Further time was available but maybe they had an appointment to keep elsewhere. Finally the small downstairs bar of Cafe Babbus hosted Bonne Aparte with their short and intense yet melodic songs. From their tight playing you'd never know they last played live in 2010.

With the weather now dry it was safe to have a look at what the outdoor stage at the Muzentuin had to offer. Basking in late afternoon sunshine and taking in the sunshiny rock of Cristobal And The Sea was the musical option if you weren't just after a coffee and a vegan burger. The crowd were well entertained by the personable group although whether the bass player would see midnight given his J&B consumption (and whether he should have advertised the flautist's newly single status) was debateable.

Another new venue got a short visit next as Jad Fair and Norman Blake were to play in Factorium (which could do with investing in plastic glasses for use in the auditorium). Unfortunately Blake's flight was cancelled so Fair was unleashed alone like a precocious child left to his own devices. The grounding his cohort would hopefully have brought was sorely missed so an early exit was made.

The sounds of Malian Tuaregs was next on the list, represented at Midi by Terakraft. Much as they set large numbers of the audience bouncing though there was a noticeable linearity to their sound with few hooks to make any one song stay long in the mind. Thoroughly nice blokes though.

Jaako Eino Kalevi was also laying out danceable moments back in Factorium. Augmented by a live drummer the icier elements of his recorded work were all but gone, inspiring a small crowd to leave their seats and take to the top of the stairs at the rear of the hall so as to be able to fully physically express how much the music was moving them. 

Blank Realm had just a couple of tracks left to play when we arrived after the short walk back in to see the at Cul De Sac. They were looking tired but happy so it had obviously been an energetic show, not least for the fact that it seems to involve a fair bit of instrument swapping (as well as the use of a keyboard guitar which isn't exactly a common sight these days). 'Dream Date' went over well at this time and they'd obviously been just that for those that had been there the whole time.

The habitual trip to Paradox finished off tonight and it must have enjoyed one of its largest crowds of the week as there was only a small amount of room at the side of the stage in which to squeeze into for the final parts of Fire!'s propulsive set. Appearing here in their original trio form their danceable avant-garde jazz (with a foray into nuts-in-a-vice concentration for some dial turning noise at one point) from the prolific Mats Gustaffson and his cohorts (last seen as part of The Thing a couple of years ago) this was a sweat-drenched performance of improvised and yet catchy music delivered at a deft pace & thundering volume and one of the best shows of the week.

While the rest of the country is watching Ireland trounce Canada in the rugby. Fibbers is hosting a daytime, all ages show in its darkest of dark basements. Punk veterans Blood or Whiskey are the main attraction. The main support act is four teenagers from Dublin, The Klares. They've just won the Schools Award in The Big Break 2015 and are heavily influenced by the Arctic Monkeys and Catfish & the Bottlemen. 

They have impressive stage presence and play well together. They have a real future in music, once they finish school of course. The newer material from new EP, Cookoo, is more sophisticated without sacrificing what makes them great in the first place. The Klares play a mix of originals from their two EPs and classic rock covers from The Who, The Undertones, and The Black Keys. 

Lead singer Andy Burke dances around wildly and gees up the young crowd in front of the stage. The older crowd at the back look suitably enamoured by the tight, up-tempo pop rock and are visibly impressed by the storming interpretation of 'Voodoo Chile' that closes the set. It's a brave move to finish with a Jimi Hendrix cover but The Klares pull it off with panache, put a modern twist on it, and make the song their own.  The audience demand an encore and the headliners graciously shout encouragement to the youngsters. They have used all their original material so finish up with perennial crowd- pleaser 'Twist and Shout'.

Celtic punk veterans Blood Or Whiskey follow in the headline slot. Originally formed in 1992, the Dublin based sextet have been there and done it. 2005's album Cashed Out On Culture is rightfully regarded as a punk classic. They've toured the world with fellow trad lovers Dropkick Murphys and Flogging Molly, with the added touch of authenticity that comes from actually bring Irish. 

Their brand of catchy, melodic, good time songs with call and response choruses blends seamlessly with their aggressive undertones and socio-political messages. The usual punk set up of guitars, bass and drums is augmented with banjo, accordion and tin whistle which both modernises the sound of trad music, and keeps true to the rebellious spirit it evokes. 

From the off, it is clear that these guys are head and shoulders above almost every band in Dublin in terms of stage presence. They are at ease on stage, masters of their domain, and they carry the crowd with them every step of the way. They back up their amiable swagger with quality tunes which also say something about modern life and the world we inhabit. Blood or Whiskey describe themselves as The Dubliners being played by The Clash. They have a small army of hardcore fans, one of whom states that this is the band Shane MacGowan wishes he was in. 

From the first chord, skinheads are slamming and mohawks are pogoing.  It's a fun and exhilarating alternative to sitting in a crowded beer garden watching overgrown, overpaid men push each other round. Or, at least, the uniforms are more interesting. 

The all ages gig means a wide age range. From young lads with hair swept across their faces to weather-beaten punkers in Doc Martens and cut off denim, there’s a sense of camaraderie that only the proximity to consensual acts of mild violence can inspire. There’s a girl in a black and white dress standing stock still, front row centre like the gothic eye of the storm as the pit rages. 

Blood or Whiskey are consummate entertainers without getting twee or clichéd. The charismatic lead singer, Finny McConnell,  gets down into the crowd on a number of occasions to lead the dancing, twirling his mic stand like Freddie Mercury leading a band of majorettes. 

The energy levels ramp up further when a bunch of red balloons are introduced to the dance floor bringing the already bubbling dancefloor to the boil. The floor is all spilled beer and broken glass and the band slow things down as the staff mop things up. ‘Back Home in Derry’ always sends shivers down the spine but Finny tempers the maudlin lyrics by taking a  dance partner from the crowd and leading her around the floor. The skins and punkers join in and the scene resembles a Terry Gilliam fever dream.

Blood or Whiskey remain a vital and fun live act. Even if you are new to them, they would win over all comers. And with singalong songs like ‘They Say No’ and ‘Poxy Pub’ I would defy anyone to resist them.

Photos: Lee Hammond

Corporate, vacuous, soulless, all words that can be used to describe Manchester Arena. Housing a cool 21,000 when at full capacity, it's difficult to imagine any artist being able to make such a room feel intimate, yet that's exactly how the venue feels almost from the first moment Florence Welch takes her first barefooted step on to the stage.

Before even that however, alt folk three-piece The Staves prove to be in fine form. The huge spotlights of the arena are focused on the trio as they surround a single microphone; their respective vocals mergign in to one single texturous harmony; the nuances and subtleties of each composition somehow audible across the cavernous venue floor. In a testament to the band and their production, it's these vocals that are the stars of the band's set, and the understated instrumentation that accompanies them is worked so as not to overshadow the vocal track. It's fragile, and at times twee, but their set is impressive nevertheless.

Opening with 'What The Water Gave Me', Florence immediately sets about whipping the crowd in to a frenzy of ecstatic emotion. There are tears almost from get go, as the surge of sentiment she inspires in her fans becomes too much, whilst those who teeter on the brink of tears collapse in to floods with the early inclusion of 'Ship to Wreck'.

The sheer energy upheld by Welch throughout her set is something to truly behold, and it's only in the quieter, more introspective sections that she allows herself rare and fleeting moments of composure. Unsurprisingly, 'Rabbit Heart' is met with a huge response from her crowd, and, as if channelling their energies, Florence runs from the stage to the rear, finishing the track from one of the several stairways that ring the arena.

About two thirds of the way through, clearly drained of her energy, which up until this point seemed bottomless, the set takes a quieter, more refined approach. A trio of tracks in the form of 'Long & Lost', 'Mother' and 'Queen of Peace' allow Welch to remain almost stationary, instead exercising her vocal range impressively whilst giving her legs some much-needed respite. Unsurprisingly, it's a short-lived section, and the tempo is brought right back up with an impassioned and drawn-out rendition of 'Dog Days Are Over'.

Encores are part of the deal with live music these days, and even a band who play a decidedly mediocre show will disappear only to come back on five minutes later. Tonight there is of course an encore, but it's one that the band have deservedly earned, and though it's only two tracks long, the anthemic finale of 'Drumming Song' is in short, excellent. Many people turned their noses up when the band confirmed they'd be headlining Glastonbury, but if this is the kind of calibre Florence & the Machine are at barely three albums in to their career, then we can expect them atop the bill of many more festivals to come.