Connect 2008 Episode IV: Broken Records n 'at

I got to Hyrdo Connect this morning, dumped backstage by a coach driver who didn't really know where he was going. Oh, there's Kele Okereke. Was he on the bus? The trip here was absolutely stunning. It's easy to forget, living in the city, why so many thousands of tourists flock to this country. It's not for the tetchy comedy at the Fringe, or for Glasgow's raucus nightlife, it's for the castles-on-island-in-lochs-among-hills. Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip would no doubt dismiss it as "Scenery - it's only land and woatah!", but they don't understand shit.

There's dark clouds above but the weather is holding for now (I am clutching the wooden table as I write, just in case). A bit o' mud, aye, but not as bad as last year, yet. Late Of The Pier were late of the stage because apparently Joan As Police Woman missed her flight here - so they dilly-dallied and filled her slot, ooh er, instead. I chose to see Broken Records rather than hang around, and sorry to bang on about it, but Broken Records are brilliant. There was barely anyone there, but those that were present were treated to another fine show from the Edinburgh 7-piece. They debuted a new song, The Ukelele Song, which curiously featured a ukelele, and played the rest of their debut EP too, finishing on the languid Slow Parade. It was a sparse and sleepy crowd, but everywhere couples and groups were dancing, and one song sparked enthusiastic cossack yells: "Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!". Part of me - the part that believes in punk rock and cynicism equalling smartness - wants to scoff and mock Broken Records, for their oh-so-tasteful aesthetic, for their oh-so-impressive multi-instrumentalism, and for their oh-so-trendy sounds. But I can't, fairly. They seduce my inner punk every time I see them.

If the rest of the festival can hold to those standards, it'll be a great weekend.