ugh, rolled in around 6 this morning after a terrifying drive through the suffolk and essex countryside in thick fog, desperately searching for a petrol station and feverishly flitting between squinting at the pea soup covered open road and the final bar on my petrol gauge.
it's been a week of insomnia induced delirium; I managed almost 3 days on the trot with little more than what Eddy Temple Morris described as a disco nap. Caught the plane to Ibiza at 4am Wednesday morning after barely any sleep the previous night, why there were so many holiday makers at Stansted at such an ungodly hour I have no idea but the flight did offer this fittingly Balearic image before i descended into intermittent dozing over my magazine and instantly waking up repeatedly for the next couple of hours.
Completely forgot to take any more pics but rest assured the day was filled with the usual aimless wandering along beaches strewn with leather skinned villains sunbathing with their trophy wives and mistresses, bright pink skinned scumbags and guys selling the ever bizzare combination of non UV friendly sunglasses and "coke speed hashish", wishing i could find an eatery which wasn't kfc, burger king, or a "good british feed". The night on the other hand made it all worth it as I joined the afore mentioned Mr Temple Morris and the legendary Utah Saints who had to fly back the next day for a PTA meeting - clearly putting the rogue back into the club night, not to mention playing a perfect set and generally being two of the nicest guys in showbiz.
Nipped out for a cheeky junior spesh on the beach where we witnessed a girl blag some free chicken by pressing her naked breasts against the window of the now closed KFC, fittingly served through the back door after her mate followed suit lifting her skirt for the now startled young Spaniard on the other side of the glass. I opted for staying up til my flight, with only two hours to kill following Es Paradis' 6am kick out, i feared i'd be out for the count while my easyjet escape left without me and somehow didn't get to bed til late that night.
Awaking Leonard Lowe style 13 hours later i was rested enough to fit in a flat warming party followed by a trip to the country side to join the nice people at Festinho for a second year running. Obviously there's still a few months to go but it's gonna be hard to top this as my gig of the year. Playing in the disco shed which had been erected in a small clearing out in the woods where teething problems with the generator had caused a few tech issues with the lights leaving us lit only by a spotlight on a disco ball spinning high up in the leaves above, rendering the scene much like a Paris Is Burning style Ball being held in the Ewok's Village.
I often worry that I might clear the floor not being much of a genre dj and pulling out pretty much whatever i fancy playing but this lot summed up my idea of the perfect audience not even swayed by my choice to end things with one of my Roots Manuva reworkings leaving Mix Master Morris to mellow things out and put these sterling shedonists to bed.
Speaking Of Roots Manuva the time is finally upon us as his new album drops tomorrow morning with my Slime & Version mini LP gracing the ltd edition CD, it's in all good shops no doubt, obviously i'd recommend my good friends at
Banquet Records though I'm not going to lie, i have seen it going for exceptionally cheap at some of your more corporate outlets - the simple fact is you should just buy it by any means necessary, so stop staring out of those net curtains and go get slimy...