Thursday, 3 October 2013

Ibiza: Day 3

16th

Bought Ecstasy on the strip off a Spanish bloke with a beard. Hit Space, one of the biggest and best clubs on the island. Saw house music producer Roger Sanchez play, dropped the E and waited.



And waited.


The music was brilliant and the stage shows- although outrageously camp and not what I'd have envisaged myself watching- were still brilliantly choreographed to cutting edge Balearic house. Meanwhile, I was starting to curse the dodgy Spaniards that supplied us with the pills. Everybody else was feeling the effect, but they reminded me that I was last to ingest, so I sat tight and spent 10 Euros on a 300ml bottle of peach juice. Robbing bastards.


I was thinking about risking water from the tap in the gents, but the word on the grapevine was that most clubs pumped saltwater through their systems to make people buy bottled from the bar. Can anyone validate this?


One track mixed into another and I felt a slight trickle of happiness in my sternum, something that wasn't purely induced by the music. “Oh,” I said to AN. “I think it's... I think it's working...”


The track developed and merged into another, and another, and half an our after I first felt the effect a melody formed, bass-lines began to infuse... and the beat dropped.


A huge dump of dopamine surged through my heart and my whole body surged, tingling. I can't remember the song but it was the best music I'd ever heard, the track accompanied by an immense plume of smoke from a fog machine that I'd not noticed but must have been close to me as it was colder than I'd ever felt smoke to be. Everybody disappeared into the mist for a good two minutes and when it cleared the whole crowd- myself included- were still dancing, possessed.


 












 






Meanwhile, on stage, an incredibly beautiful woman in a bathtub wearing nothing but a thong and nipple tassels (on silicone) poured a jug of water over herself. A shredded male model pranced about covering his crotch with a towel. A man and a woman clung, acrobatic, to drapes hung from the ceiling.

The stage lights altered, making you look, spotlighting a man in maybe his thirties in a t-shirt with an electric guitar. 
 

I wish I'd shot some video of this bloke as he was incredible, riffing out the theme of the Red Hot Chillis' Otherside while Sanchez accompanied this with a housed up remix of the track. My guess is that he's a distinguished guitarist. Getting to play at that club with that DJ indicates an elite talent for what is- I believe- an incredibly difficult instrument to learn.


A spectacular climax to an incredible night.

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