Acclaimed Latin grooves fusion combo Calexico headlined the fourth night of this multi-layered Larmer Tree marathon.

The Tucson, Arizona-based septet were probably unfamiliar to many here before their set, but a 90-minute brass-influenced jazz, country and indie rock mash-up with the likes of mariachi, cumbia and tejano had everyone dancing.

Who needs Santana when this long-established combo, named after a town on the California/Mexico border are doing the rounds?

Calexico's two main men Joey Burns and John Convertino were in an early version of the band Giant Sand with singer-songwriter, musician and performer Howe Gelb.

And here was Gelb at the piano in the ARC tent delivering self-penned standards in a gravelly Leonard Cohen-style vocal and in a manner so laid back he was almost horizontal.

Aided by just a bass player and venturing only occasionally to his guitar ('because I'm so old'), the self-deprecating Gelb was an acquired taste, but welcome respite to raucousness elsewhere.

Following him was folk roots giants Show of Hands' frontman Steve Knightley in solo mode. It is entirely possible he has never played a bad gig and here, to a packed house and after his public soundcheck routine, he didn't disappoint, including old favourites Country Life, AIG and Cousin Jack.

Remaining relevant, he performed his finally-finished song about Tony Blair and the Gulf War after the Chilcot Inquiry report had provided him with the chorus after 11 years. As ever, he got his audience singing and even encored with a rousing version of The Stereophonics' Dakota.

Back on the main stage, Wiltshire-based singer-songwriter Gabrielle Aplin's charming set was well-received and the 11-piece, black-clad Celtic folk supergroup Treacherous Orchestra weaved some thunderous grooves.

It struck me, whilst contemplating how much each of them could possibly earn from a gig, that they were a folk version of the Afro Celt Sound System and, also like ACSS, while intricate yet powerful lengthy instrumentals are fine and dandy, a few shorter songs wouldn't go amiss.

Honourable mentions to Indiana's Rev Peyton's Damn Big Band, who mixed Seasick Steve with ZZ Top for some downhome boogie and Kefaya, whose jazz fusion was skilfully played and perfect for a sunny afternoon, but sort of washed over me. But that may be just the point.

Finally, I wouldn't have expected to be part of a crowd audience singing Born Free around a camp fire in the woods to the accompaniment of the indefatigable Southampton Ukulele Jam. But it happened.

Cliff Moore