Literally scrolls of pages have been written about the beauty and splendour of Ibiza from the serenity of Atlantis to the humbling site of the flamencos across the salt plains, who have made a far greater effort than any of us to be here.
Yet, through their graceful personalities anywhere these birds decide to land becomes sacred, untouchable and protected by law. So maybe grace is our problem?
Throughout the history of this Island it is the people who have come here that have created its legacy and mystery. Sure the views of wonder and the enchantment of leylines et al have caught the imagination but from the likes of Nostradamus to the rock & roll icons of the 60’s to the acid house pioneers of the late 80’s it is the counter culture who have always made Ibiza the magical place that it is.
Every season people come and go, but if you’re like me there will be certain people who make Ibiza what it is to you, who carved the place in your heart where you keep all things magical, all things Ibiza.
So what becomes of Ibiza when these characters cease returning? The ideology & the incessant re-evaluation of the infrastructure would suggest that it will become the playground for the rich and pandered. Pipe-nightmare and ill-considered on two main accounts.
Yes, there is a lot more money than there once was, and why? Because of the exorbitant bleeding of counter culture who have so willingly provided the Island with it’s life-blood of finance and personality. Even the wealth that arrives on the Island in high season is ear marked as the changing and more respectable face of tourism, bollocks. The majority of these are just kids grown up, done well and return yearly in better fashion that the last. Sure where once their night out consisted of a carry-out on the beach before hitting space they can now afford to have an afternoon on a boat before enjoying the space of VIP.
The rest of the money? The famous faces and the royalty, they’ve always been coming. But they won’t always will. Not when the faces of the underground disappear and the Island ceases to provide them with their underground weekend vibeing with the normal people. That’s what they seek when they come to Ibiza, the crowds that come here don’t care if you’re royalty or just royally, it’s the way it’s always been.
So just down the road from our hallowed flamingo’s the godless bunch who attend Circo Loco religiously every Monday are told their sacred ground is a taint and a sleight on the face of the Island yet again. Promoter, Andreas has iterated that the time for reasoning has been attempted and passed unsuccessfully and now he’s going to fight. Good on him, you have to respect his loyalty to the venue and strong will, but you still get the impression it’s a battle that will ultimately be lost.
What’s more incredible that in the same week hippy haunt Kumharas has been effectively shut down due to the explicit and allowed use of drugs on the site. Read, an Ibizan institution that turned a blind eye to people smoking dope on a beach that they have been doing long before the frantic over-development of the surrounding land with eye-sore and now dilapidating hotels. It was one of the few places in the bay of San Antonio that actually still held onto the Balearic aesthetics that make this island what it is. The whole thing would be amusing if it wasn’t so infuriating.
I’m upsetting myself, so much for the chill-out centre of the world.
The good news is that there is still much to make this Island paradise, let’s get on with enjoying it while we can.
Last Friday’s opening of Manumission at their new home of Amnesia was pretty impressive. Amnesia have really pushed the boat out to welcome their new bed-fellows. The entire terrace being re-designed to accommodate the famous manumission show and required stage. Coney Island review? Think muscle bound sailors and freaky rope bound contorting ladies. Whatever floats your boat. Tune wise for the opening the had Mylo on board and judging by his state at We Love… a few days later it appears the Manumission crew were certainly looking after his needs. A good night all in, and I think a good move, the club holds a lot more intimacy than the hanger like Privilege.
As Sunday with the sun beating hard, I eased my way into the day with a few terrace coronas at home before getting down to Space for 5pm. The club was experiencing a slow start, with only 300 or so at a guess sprinkle throughout. My 1 st couple of hours were spent on the sunset terrace where Tony Haze managed to turn a sparse dancefloor into a full on by 1830. Jem Haynes re-rub of Where Love lives being a standout in a set of electronic party house with a nod to the Acid House days. Next up was Jason Bye who picked where he left off last week rolling out his techier sound to a now throbbing dancefloor.
A quick nip through to the Terraza to hear the start of the Streetlife DJs crashing out their electro sound and I was off. I had a football match to watch. Upon hitting the bars around Bossa it was obvious to see why the club was experiencing the slow start that it was, every singly bar was rammed to spilling point for the Span Italy quarter-final. A total let down as far as football matches go but as the final penalty was scored the Island erupted to the sound of blazing car horns which was to last right through to the morning. While the Italian contingent seemed to slope off into the night.
Back at Space to catch Tom Cagedbaby and his masterful control of ableton. By now the terrace was throbbing and when the man dropped his re-edit of Human League’s, do or die, my night had really begun.
On the sunset terrace, Alfredo playing his 1 st set there of the summer also had the room in raptures, the room bouncing to his classic house, and him too, not bad for a 55 year old!
By the time the sunset terrace had closed Tiefschwarz were already in their digital groove, one of only 3 shows this year but totally up for it they seemed, neither of the brother leaving each other sides for the 3 hour set which rolled along with masterful control.
Up on the premier etage things were quieting down to a permissible level after Scott Martin and Jon Howells earlier excursions. Jon, a new weekly resident this year, is a interesting sort to say the least, and he definitely knows his music, more on him later in the summer, as for me tonight was all about the Ed Banger crew, and more specifically A-Trak, the former DMC champ but now boa fide electro convert.
Serge Santiago had the discoteca positively charged with his nu-italo sound, hard to describe, but it’s like the bastard lovechild of the melodies that go with the italo genre with woolford style electronic tech. Bloody good stuff and a man that is more and more coming into his own.
At 2am Busy P stepped up to get the Ed Banger Ball rolling with a raucous intro and dived straight into the French sound crash before making way for A-trak and his final scratch plates. There wasn’t maybe enough of his turntablism skills on display that I’d hoped for but there certainly he certainly wasn’t lacking any ammunition of pounding disco fury. After Mehdi brought the night far too quickly towards 6am A-Trak stepped up to close with a cacophony of electronic noise and a battered and bruised floor showed their appreciation.
I was spent. Talk about taking liberties,
A N Other We Lover
Tags: a-trak, alfredo, busy p, cagedbaby, clubbing, dance, ed banger, ibiza, mehdi, serge santiago, space, streetlife djs, tiefschwarz, tony haze, we love, woolford
