The long-awaited line ups for Ibiza 2012 are finally here. The rumours and gossip bounced off every blog, magazine and website are widely true, that this is going to be one of the most epic summers in Ibiza history. They say this every year, simply because each season supersedes the next with every single club and bar packed to the rafters with music for the party-hard-people. Whatever your poison, you'll find in Ibiza. The season this year has the cream of pretty much every crop on the musical markets and clubbers can look forward to a range of aural delights on the white-hot sands of the world's most hedonistic holiday destination.
I can't flippin' wait! For the intellectual techno fiend there's Papa Sven reigning supreme over Mondays at Cocoon Amnesia, with legends of 4/4 ranging from the likes of Hawtin, Villalobos, Loco Dice, Raresh and Dubfire. We will all covet our favourites, like Lecter with a particularly delectable Starling. The point is, my God, what a collection of hypnotically entrancing artists under one giant cavernous roof, on one night, every single week!!! I think I've died and gone to clubbing heaven, which is basically just Ibiza anyway (as discussed in Paragraph One).
Don't get me wrong, Ibiza is so, so good. If you steer clear of the scummy bits and only go to the decent nights. If you manage not to get ripped off by a tout and buy all your booze from the local shop, creating a feeding frenzy of binge drinking until you hit the club; where you sup water from a ten euro bottle for the remainder of the night. Anyway, I'll stop bitching and focus on to the line-ups. Which as explained are a mixture of downright rubbish and awesome artists. I'm flying the flag for those who feel this year's line-up reflects the overall commercialisation, bastardisation, or whatever you want to call it, of a lot of electronic music.
Come on, someone has to be realistic about David Guetta. The man is a fraud. He's running arguably the biggest night on the whole island, called (cringingly) F**k Me I'm Famous at Pacha and the fellow wouldn't know a decent tune if it smacked him in the mouth. And I dearly wish it would. And what's Ibiza Rocks about? If the proles want to see Bloc Party, let them eat cake in Magaluf or Malia, or wherever Hell is these days. Ibiza is dance, dance is Ibiza. End of story.
Am I just bitter because the whole idea of Ibiza is just not the secret club I think it should by rights be, where people who really love dance can escape all the crappy stuff and just rave, and rave and rave to thumping, stripped back beats? Most likely. But in a line up where every wo/man and his/her dog can just close their eyes and pretend it's Radio One turned up dead loud, is it really so special? Nah, not really.
I can't flippin' wait! For the intellectual techno fiend there's Papa Sven reigning supreme over Mondays at Cocoon Amnesia, with legends of 4/4 ranging from the likes of Hawtin, Villalobos, Loco Dice, Raresh and Dubfire. We will all covet our favourites, like Lecter with a particularly delectable Starling. The point is, my God, what a collection of hypnotically entrancing artists under one giant cavernous roof, on one night, every single week!!! I think I've died and gone to clubbing heaven, which is basically just Ibiza anyway (as discussed in Paragraph One).
Don't get me wrong, Ibiza is so, so good. If you steer clear of the scummy bits and only go to the decent nights. If you manage not to get ripped off by a tout and buy all your booze from the local shop, creating a feeding frenzy of binge drinking until you hit the club; where you sup water from a ten euro bottle for the remainder of the night. Anyway, I'll stop bitching and focus on to the line-ups. Which as explained are a mixture of downright rubbish and awesome artists. I'm flying the flag for those who feel this year's line-up reflects the overall commercialisation, bastardisation, or whatever you want to call it, of a lot of electronic music.
Come on, someone has to be realistic about David Guetta. The man is a fraud. He's running arguably the biggest night on the whole island, called (cringingly) F**k Me I'm Famous at Pacha and the fellow wouldn't know a decent tune if it smacked him in the mouth. And I dearly wish it would. And what's Ibiza Rocks about? If the proles want to see Bloc Party, let them eat cake in Magaluf or Malia, or wherever Hell is these days. Ibiza is dance, dance is Ibiza. End of story.
Am I just bitter because the whole idea of Ibiza is just not the secret club I think it should by rights be, where people who really love dance can escape all the crappy stuff and just rave, and rave and rave to thumping, stripped back beats? Most likely. But in a line up where every wo/man and his/her dog can just close their eyes and pretend it's Radio One turned up dead loud, is it really so special? Nah, not really.
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