I knew she was a feline
She moved with ease and grace
Her green eyes, they held mystery
No emotion on her face
(European Female, she’s here)
She speaks, her lips are kissing
The air around her face
I don’t always understand her
But I love her air and grace
(European Female, she’s here)
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall?
I saw her in the Straße
And in the Rue as well
Pursued her in the High Street
She had me in her spell
(European Female, she’s here)
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall? (Because you will)
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall?
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall?
The Stranglers European Female Feline (1982)
¿Qué me cuentas, mis amigos? ¿Qué tal? Today’s blog entry is about some of the other fun things I did (besides sightseeing, trying to windsurf in the doldrums and having dope three-way sex) while I was in Eivissa, exploring the ‘underground’ club scene, so ironically above ground these days in European cities, large and small.
On Ibiza, the club scene is an economic juggernaut. It’s surprising it doesn’t just crush any opposition in its path, but in fact club owners have made significant concessions to the island’s citizens on matters of loud music and rowdy patrons in a self-serving attempt to be good neighbours. It’s the economic miracle of benevolent capitalism, Spanish-style! Karl Marx, George Orwell and (one hopes) Generalísimo Francisco Franco are turning in their graves.
Believe it or not (if you’re not put off by the occasional, random hail of bullets), we’ve got a lively club scene of our own in my little hometown of Baltimore, Maryland, AKA Bodymore, Murderland. (See ‘The Wire,’ or better yet, listen to the smoking soundtracks. If you go, just be sure to wear Kevlar jockstraps. I think popular, local company Under Armour makes them.) You might be taken out of the club in a body bag, but to get in and to buy drinks at least, it won’t cost you an arm and a leg!
It’s interesting that in Spain the words, ‘pasarlo en grande,’ literally ‘to spend big,’ also mean ‘to have a great time.’ God knows, the big dance clubs on Ibiza are the most expensive places I’ve ever been to in my life, so if it’s true you have to spend big to have a great time, it just might be a Spanish thing. (My ‘Tia’ Jane says that’s not true; she claims Disneyworld is more expensive. She may be right. I was only eight when she took me there. I probably bugged her for mouse ears or something. She says it was overpriced ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ merch, and I didn’t get any. Wah!)
What I’m talking about, however, are €45-55 admission fees (more than $64-79 by current conversion rates), €15 vodka drinks (almost $21.50) and €12 beers (more than $17). By that standard, I think I should have had the greatest time of my life, but I didn’t. Don’t worry, I didn’t try to get any of the so-called ‘bartenders’ (apparently hired strictly for their looks) to make me a Zombie or anything, but I did order a practically unheard-of ‘Pernod’ on the rocks (my fave drink this summer, by the way), and it set me back $25!
One did see big-spending Spaniards drinking very old brandies in outsize balloon snifters, so what global recession was it we were just talking about? At least, for your €50 admission to the 20th anniversary party at ‘Space,’ you got a commemorative T-shirt that publicized, ‘Space Ibiza’s 20th Anniversary!’ Better if it had said, ‘I spent a day’s wages for one night at a glorified disco with 20,000 other people, and all I got was this stupid T-shirt. Drinks not included.’ Here are two other parallels Space has with Disney: self-satisfied PR campaigns, and a sensory overload that puts ‘Space Mountain’ (the Disney ride, not anything to do with the club) to shame.
For those to whom these names might mean something, here is the DJ line up from the ‘Space’ 20th anniversary party on Friday, August 14: Deadmau5, Booka Shade, Aleksia, Camilo Franco, Christian Burkhardt (live), David Moreno, Elio Riso, Geddes, Issie Nixon, Jamie Jones, Jonathan Tena, Jose Maria Ramon, Jose Padilla, Marco Loco, Michel Cleis, Paco Fernandez (live), System of Survival, Tiefschwarz, Tolga Vidan (live) and Yousef. Expect UK independent label Cr2 Records to release a compilation album of the event. Watch the tilllate magazine blog for details.
More recognisable to me were some of the names from the (less crowded, more enjoyable) weekly, ‘We Love Space’ party on the following Sunday, August 16: The Chemical Brothers (Word Up!), Jeff Mills, Ivan Smagghe and David Phillips (in the ‘Discoteca’); Dimitri, James Zabiela, Nic Fanciulli, Paul Woolford, Smokin’ Jo and Andy Baxter (on the ‘Terraza’); Alfredo, Colin Peters, Jason Bye and Suzee X (on the ‘Sunset Terrace’); Alex Taylor, Andy Carroll and Ben Korbel (on the ‘Première [sic] Étage’); and finally Martin Buttrich, Jem Haynes, Ryan O’Gorman and Scott Martin (in the ‘Caja Roja’). Evidently, Ministry of Sound, and Pete Tong, were busy elsewhere.
For those in the know, those DJs spun every conceivable type of dance music popular since the 1980s and some rock and rap music even I recognised, chiefly from my late uncle’s albums (The Temptations, Blood, Sweat and Tears, Count Basie, Electric Flag, John Mayall, The Impressions, Curtis Mayfield, Velvet Underground, Lou Reed, Iggy and the Stooges, David Bowie, Sly and the Family Stone, Lorraine Ellison, Terry Reed, Wilson Pickett, Spooky Tooth, The Flamin’ Groovies, Aretha Franklin, The Sweet Inspirations, The New York Dolls, Johnny Thunders, The Heartbreakers, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, James Brown, Ornette Coleman, Television, Wayne County, Mumps, Marvin Gaye, The Only Ones, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Average White Band, Sadistic Mica Band, Bohannon, Barry White, Sparks, Big Star, Alex Chilton, Black Sabbath, Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes, Père Ubu, Visage, Spandau Ballet, Ultravox, Curve, Blur, The Cure, Buzzcocks, Jilted John, Magazine, Ohio Players, Hawkwind, Motörhead, Venom, Roxy Music, Bryan Ferry, Brian Eno, Flipper, Cabaret Voltaire, Gato Barbieri, Public Image, Wire, Colin Newman, Throbbing Gristle, The Jacobites, Nikki Sudden, The Birthday Party, Nick Cave, The Bad Seeds, Joy Division, The Fall, Marc Riley, The Mekons, Black Flag, Metallica, Hanoi Rocks, Dogs d’Amour, Tyla, Slayer, Suicide, Suicide Twins, René Berg, Scratch Acid, Butthole Surfers, The Jesus Lizard, Helmet, Happy Mondays, Pulp, Manic Street Preachers, Napalm Death, Cathedral, Primal Scream, My Bloody Valentine, Jungle Brothers, Dead Kennedys, Dinosaur Jr., De la Soul, S*M*A*S*H, Wildhearts, Mudhoney, Gorrilaz, Gnarls Barkley, Jay-Z, Linkin Park, Cypress Hill, System of a Down, Doctor Dré, Snoop Dog, A Tribe Called Quest, Wu Tang Clan, Bonde do Role, The Mars Volta, LCD Soundsystem, M.I.A., Mary J. Blige, Tha-Dream, Em… oh, wait, sorry, those were all on my iPod; I was listening to it when I went outside. És igual. No importa. Never mind.).
I saw bloodless Vampire Weekend at the Ibiza Rocks! Hotel the next Tuesday and went to the ‘bargain’ after party, ‘Reclaim the Dancefloor,’ at Eden. I also went to ‘Fuck Me, I’m Famous,’ that Thursday at Pacha; so at least I saw more than just ‘inner’ Space. One unusual thing I did on my last full day in Ibiza was go to the Fiesta of Sant Bartolomèu (Bartholomew in English) in Sant Antoni (the only time I braved that little outpost of Blighty in two weeks).
St Bartholomew, it would seem, was one of Christ’s disciples (also known as Nathaniel) who later became the patron saint of butchers. A martyr who was skinned alive and, then, crucified upside down, he’s often depicted holding his skin on his arm as other saints are often depicted holding shields. I don’t know if there’s a connection, but I discovered ‘dejar el pellejo’ (‘to leave your skin behind’) is a Spanish slang expression, meaning ‘to die.’
Unless I can think of something more interesting to add than lists of things (shades of facebook!), I think that’ll wrap up my little travelogue, ‘Eivissa, s’illa blanca.’ Next up: ‘Barcelona, la ciutat reina d’encant.’ Això és tot. Cheers! ¡Txin txin! ¡Fins ara!
She moved with ease and grace
Her green eyes, they held mystery
No emotion on her face
(European Female, she’s here)
She speaks, her lips are kissing
The air around her face
I don’t always understand her
But I love her air and grace
(European Female, she’s here)
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall?
I saw her in the Straße
And in the Rue as well
Pursued her in the High Street
She had me in her spell
(European Female, she’s here)
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall? (Because you will)
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall?
The European Female’s here
We’ll be together for a thousand years
Do you really fear
That you might fall?
The Stranglers European Female Feline (1982)
¿Qué me cuentas, mis amigos? ¿Qué tal? Today’s blog entry is about some of the other fun things I did (besides sightseeing, trying to windsurf in the doldrums and having dope three-way sex) while I was in Eivissa, exploring the ‘underground’ club scene, so ironically above ground these days in European cities, large and small.
On Ibiza, the club scene is an economic juggernaut. It’s surprising it doesn’t just crush any opposition in its path, but in fact club owners have made significant concessions to the island’s citizens on matters of loud music and rowdy patrons in a self-serving attempt to be good neighbours. It’s the economic miracle of benevolent capitalism, Spanish-style! Karl Marx, George Orwell and (one hopes) Generalísimo Francisco Franco are turning in their graves.
Believe it or not (if you’re not put off by the occasional, random hail of bullets), we’ve got a lively club scene of our own in my little hometown of Baltimore, Maryland, AKA Bodymore, Murderland. (See ‘The Wire,’ or better yet, listen to the smoking soundtracks. If you go, just be sure to wear Kevlar jockstraps. I think popular, local company Under Armour makes them.) You might be taken out of the club in a body bag, but to get in and to buy drinks at least, it won’t cost you an arm and a leg!
It’s interesting that in Spain the words, ‘pasarlo en grande,’ literally ‘to spend big,’ also mean ‘to have a great time.’ God knows, the big dance clubs on Ibiza are the most expensive places I’ve ever been to in my life, so if it’s true you have to spend big to have a great time, it just might be a Spanish thing. (My ‘Tia’ Jane says that’s not true; she claims Disneyworld is more expensive. She may be right. I was only eight when she took me there. I probably bugged her for mouse ears or something. She says it was overpriced ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ merch, and I didn’t get any. Wah!)
What I’m talking about, however, are €45-55 admission fees (more than $64-79 by current conversion rates), €15 vodka drinks (almost $21.50) and €12 beers (more than $17). By that standard, I think I should have had the greatest time of my life, but I didn’t. Don’t worry, I didn’t try to get any of the so-called ‘bartenders’ (apparently hired strictly for their looks) to make me a Zombie or anything, but I did order a practically unheard-of ‘Pernod’ on the rocks (my fave drink this summer, by the way), and it set me back $25!
One did see big-spending Spaniards drinking very old brandies in outsize balloon snifters, so what global recession was it we were just talking about? At least, for your €50 admission to the 20th anniversary party at ‘Space,’ you got a commemorative T-shirt that publicized, ‘Space Ibiza’s 20th Anniversary!’ Better if it had said, ‘I spent a day’s wages for one night at a glorified disco with 20,000 other people, and all I got was this stupid T-shirt. Drinks not included.’ Here are two other parallels Space has with Disney: self-satisfied PR campaigns, and a sensory overload that puts ‘Space Mountain’ (the Disney ride, not anything to do with the club) to shame.
For those to whom these names might mean something, here is the DJ line up from the ‘Space’ 20th anniversary party on Friday, August 14: Deadmau5, Booka Shade, Aleksia, Camilo Franco, Christian Burkhardt (live), David Moreno, Elio Riso, Geddes, Issie Nixon, Jamie Jones, Jonathan Tena, Jose Maria Ramon, Jose Padilla, Marco Loco, Michel Cleis, Paco Fernandez (live), System of Survival, Tiefschwarz, Tolga Vidan (live) and Yousef. Expect UK independent label Cr2 Records to release a compilation album of the event. Watch the tilllate magazine blog for details.
More recognisable to me were some of the names from the (less crowded, more enjoyable) weekly, ‘We Love Space’ party on the following Sunday, August 16: The Chemical Brothers (Word Up!), Jeff Mills, Ivan Smagghe and David Phillips (in the ‘Discoteca’); Dimitri, James Zabiela, Nic Fanciulli, Paul Woolford, Smokin’ Jo and Andy Baxter (on the ‘Terraza’); Alfredo, Colin Peters, Jason Bye and Suzee X (on the ‘Sunset Terrace’); Alex Taylor, Andy Carroll and Ben Korbel (on the ‘Première [sic] Étage’); and finally Martin Buttrich, Jem Haynes, Ryan O’Gorman and Scott Martin (in the ‘Caja Roja’). Evidently, Ministry of Sound, and Pete Tong, were busy elsewhere.
For those in the know, those DJs spun every conceivable type of dance music popular since the 1980s and some rock and rap music even I recognised, chiefly from my late uncle’s albums (The Temptations, Blood, Sweat and Tears, Count Basie, Electric Flag, John Mayall, The Impressions, Curtis Mayfield, Velvet Underground, Lou Reed, Iggy and the Stooges, David Bowie, Sly and the Family Stone, Lorraine Ellison, Terry Reed, Wilson Pickett, Spooky Tooth, The Flamin’ Groovies, Aretha Franklin, The Sweet Inspirations, The New York Dolls, Johnny Thunders, The Heartbreakers, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, James Brown, Ornette Coleman, Television, Wayne County, Mumps, Marvin Gaye, The Only Ones, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Average White Band, Sadistic Mica Band, Bohannon, Barry White, Sparks, Big Star, Alex Chilton, Black Sabbath, Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes, Père Ubu, Visage, Spandau Ballet, Ultravox, Curve, Blur, The Cure, Buzzcocks, Jilted John, Magazine, Ohio Players, Hawkwind, Motörhead, Venom, Roxy Music, Bryan Ferry, Brian Eno, Flipper, Cabaret Voltaire, Gato Barbieri, Public Image, Wire, Colin Newman, Throbbing Gristle, The Jacobites, Nikki Sudden, The Birthday Party, Nick Cave, The Bad Seeds, Joy Division, The Fall, Marc Riley, The Mekons, Black Flag, Metallica, Hanoi Rocks, Dogs d’Amour, Tyla, Slayer, Suicide, Suicide Twins, René Berg, Scratch Acid, Butthole Surfers, The Jesus Lizard, Helmet, Happy Mondays, Pulp, Manic Street Preachers, Napalm Death, Cathedral, Primal Scream, My Bloody Valentine, Jungle Brothers, Dead Kennedys, Dinosaur Jr., De la Soul, S*M*A*S*H, Wildhearts, Mudhoney, Gorrilaz, Gnarls Barkley, Jay-Z, Linkin Park, Cypress Hill, System of a Down, Doctor Dré, Snoop Dog, A Tribe Called Quest, Wu Tang Clan, Bonde do Role, The Mars Volta, LCD Soundsystem, M.I.A., Mary J. Blige, Tha-Dream, Em… oh, wait, sorry, those were all on my iPod; I was listening to it when I went outside. És igual. No importa. Never mind.).
I saw bloodless Vampire Weekend at the Ibiza Rocks! Hotel the next Tuesday and went to the ‘bargain’ after party, ‘Reclaim the Dancefloor,’ at Eden. I also went to ‘Fuck Me, I’m Famous,’ that Thursday at Pacha; so at least I saw more than just ‘inner’ Space. One unusual thing I did on my last full day in Ibiza was go to the Fiesta of Sant Bartolomèu (Bartholomew in English) in Sant Antoni (the only time I braved that little outpost of Blighty in two weeks).
St Bartholomew, it would seem, was one of Christ’s disciples (also known as Nathaniel) who later became the patron saint of butchers. A martyr who was skinned alive and, then, crucified upside down, he’s often depicted holding his skin on his arm as other saints are often depicted holding shields. I don’t know if there’s a connection, but I discovered ‘dejar el pellejo’ (‘to leave your skin behind’) is a Spanish slang expression, meaning ‘to die.’
Unless I can think of something more interesting to add than lists of things (shades of facebook!), I think that’ll wrap up my little travelogue, ‘Eivissa, s’illa blanca.’ Next up: ‘Barcelona, la ciutat reina d’encant.’ Això és tot. Cheers! ¡Txin txin! ¡Fins ara!
