More IMS/Ibiza

1. The research report is now free. Although it’s not. As in the website has not been updated to reflect this. The change should be imminent, I recommend you go to:

and download it when it is…free. You’ll learn a lot.

2. Went clubbing last night. Did I really say that? I mean I went to clubs. And that’s the word that popped out of my mouth/keyboard, but I would never sit at home and say…I’M GOING OUT CLUBBING! Because I’m just not that kind of person. But the people in Ibiza are…

Like the women in the hotel elevator…

I’m staying at the Gran Hotel

Ibiza Gran Hotel

The rooms all have bathtubs…in the rooms. I think I missed the memo as to why I’d want this. And decks…overlooking the pool, where all the action is. And yes, the women are topless. But even more interesting is their bodies are not perfect. Not that they seem inhibited by this. It’s like TMZ and Radar Online never got to Ibiza, you can let your freak flag fly.

As for the women in the elevator… They had skintight pants made of material that looked like leather, with glitter, and heels very high, but they were not twenty or even thirty, they were way past forty. People this age in America stay home. But here you go out.

And when you do…

What stunned me at Pacha was the bad bodies and unattractive people. Whoa! Save the hate mail. I’m just saying I live in Los Angeles, where how you look is more important than where you went to college, if you even did. It’s an outdoor/workout culture, where if you weren’t born beautiful, you’re doing everything in your power to appear so. Sure, some people get plastic surgery, but you’d be stunned what diet and exercise and makeup and a stylist can do.

But the women at Pacha didn’t get the message. Everybody looked positively…normal. Lumpy bodies. Far from dazzling clothing.

As for the men…they were even worse. Chunky in t-shirts. Really. I’m climbing the stairs to the bathroom and I’m asking myself…are they planning to get laid?

I just don’t know… The culture that is. Is it just dancing and drugging, or at the end of the night do these less than perfect specimens exchange bodily fluids? Maybe it doesn’t matter how you look, just that you’re there…I’m gonna have to do more research.

As for the club…it wasn’t dead, but it wasn’t jumping. But it was early. About 1:15. Yes, the most desirable slot is around 4 A.M. Hell, there are even outdoor venues where the sun rising over the dance floor is part of the appeal.

Next we went to Downtown Cipriani to hear Rob da Bank and Fatboy Slim.

So I’m standing there, sipping a limon, and what’s coming out of the speaker is…is that Michael McDonald’s “I Keep Forgettin'”?


Rob is a Radio 1 deejay. A specialist. Early morning transition. From sleep to awakening. Turns out the station is full of these people, who do once a week shows. It’s as if Top Forty was programmed like a public radio station. And what Rob played constantly surprised me.

And then Norman got behind the decks.

Rob used CDs. Burned ones. That he inserted into Pioneer decks that could be manipulated like vinyl.

Fatboy Slim used his laptop.

And Norman/Fatboy, whose real name is Quentin, was more into it than those on the floor, clapping his hands, jitterbugging in his bare feet…yup, he always deejays in his bare feet. And this was his second gig of the night! Deejaying, when done right, is FUN!

What a concept.

As for the clientele at Downtown Cipriani…it was much more upscale. But I was warned by an agent that those desirable women were high class hookers. Study them long enough and you can pick them out.

So I stayed until about three, got to bed a bit after four and woke up around noon, that’s the Ibiza lifestyle.

3. Just heard Ben Turner interview Sven Vath.

Either you know who he is or you don’t. That’s the essence of dance culture, either you’re clued in or left out. But the great thing is if you get the bug, you can go down the rabbit hole online, you can educate yourself. It’s just like the sixties and seventies, except the acts are different and so is the music…bottom line, you want to know everything.

And standing on the diving board of EDM, a term everybody here loathes, you’re wondering whether to dive into the pool. Because you just can’t dip your toe, you’ve got to go head first, you’ve got to learn. But being in Ibiza motivates you. Because you hear such intriguing music. Nile Rodgers did an anthem for the IMS, and it was good, the guitar part at the end was riveting, but the remix by Eats Everything was killer. You wanted to hear it again. And that’s the essence of all great music.

And Vath is pushing fifty. He slept in a chair the first summer he was here. He eventually got a Monday night slot. And now he’s a deejaying, curating superstar. It’s a lifestyle. You can give up the trappings and move to Ibiza, but you can’t have one foot in the real world and one here, it just doesn’t work.

And Vath is from Frankfurt, English is not his first language, but listen long enough and insight emerges that most Americans never evidence.

He was asked about VIP.

Yes, it’s serious business here. Up to 40,000 euros a night.

Sven said he played for the dance floor. Yes, the essence is always the hoi polloi. They buy all the products and make all the movements. If you’re not playing to everyman, you’re lost. That’s what the techies have right and the “artists” have wrong. Techies want to make gear/applications used by everybody, Rush Limbaugh loves Apple as much as the Progressives. Whereas the “artists” are just looking to sell out to the Fortune 500. When all the money comes from looking in the other direction, to the people.

And Sven was asked about this summer season in Ibiza.

And I was stunned he was honest.

Prices were too high. Southern Europe, Spain and Italy, Ibiza’s backbone, are going through an economic crisis, who can afford to come to these events at the clubs?

Funny how it takes a deejay to speak the truth.

Just because some rich pricks can overpay to attend so they can tell their buds they were there, never forget, once again, it’s the hoi polloi who pay your bills, who keep you going. I don’t care if the Rolling Stones average $300+ a ticket, that’s just too damn high to go to a rock show. Go paperless, leave some money on the table. Sure, you may be thwarting the scalpers, but you’re also thwarting your hard core fans, who live for this music. Yup, the music is everything to the poor, it’s an accoutrement to the rich.

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