IBIZA. I have always viewed this tiny Baleric Island as the Ft Lauderdale of Europe. With hordes of sun burnt Brittish lads looking like candy canes draped in matching neon on Stag Do tank tops followed by hordes of marshmallow lipped mega ho's stumbling around in their Chinese foot binding shoes, shit faced and looking for their next semen injection. Not my cup of tea. When I travel I like to either go somewhere and get lost with people I love, OR I go core, I go cheap, dirty and local and alone. I don't do 40 dollar California rolls, (Sunset Ashram are you fucking serious? Some of the prices made me literally want to bitch slap the bartender...like are we both witnessing and actively participating in agreeing that the total sum cost of rum, mint, ice, sugar and some Italian surfer to crush it half harzardly, put a spring of mint in it then do a line of coke off the fake tits of a waitresses under the bartop....is 25 EUROS! Makes me want to kill someone)
I don't travel to speak english. I travel to learn, to grow or to celebrate life with loved ones...but somehow, regardless of my hatred of all things Ibiza....the capricious winds of fate used my Judiasm against me this summer when one of my best friends said some combination of "fancy" "villa" and "free," and I said fuck it why not see what all the fuss is about. The truth is I was also fleeing my sick bi polar semi abusive relationship with New York City....
It's like i'm in high-school in a tiny mid west town, and New York is my hot older boyfriend in college who has a Jeep wrangler and picks me up and drives me to all these horizon expending places (like the MALL!) Only problem is... he's physically abusive, hot and cold, steals my money and is jealous of others cities I visit. Even though I've vowed to leave him, he warms up a little bit and gives me flowers... and I get lured back with promises that he'll change, often dazzling me with his live music or improv comedy skills...i'm weak. I love him so.
Anyway, very simply the lack of nature is inhumane and shuts my consciousness down. I need air, i need trees, I need flowers bursting with color and mountains looming above me, their size and power allowing me to feel the presence of mother earth all around me. I need water over my head, drowning me in it's infinite wisdom rocking me back into baseline...all these components the base to my acid. I need my phone to shut the fuck up. I needed to leave the US and stop reading headlines about that orange fascist man baby whose diaper needs to be changed, I need billions of colors, cultures, tastes, foods, sounds, animals, currencies and languages. Living in NYC denies me access to the fundamental life force I need to feel whole.
So I booked a one way ticket with one of my best friends Quinton and got lost. I had a love hate relationship with Ibiza. I relearned the ultimate lesson which is you will find what you seek. Ibiza is full of nature and beauty so resplendent you actually can't look directly at it, she's like a medusa of sorts, and can turn your nose and heart to stone if you're not careful.
I stayed away however from the nightclub scene except for one night when I went to go see NYC favorites Bedouin at this big fuck off bordello like mega night called "Story". I was instantly hungry for actual human connection, watching the k'd out swaying masses so I went wandering and ended up I meeting this shockingly beautiful boy who was dressed so elegantly I literally took his hand sat him down and said, "Tell me everything." Dripping in hope, basking in his complete freedom with a brain that spoke 5 languages and shoulders who wore kimono's like pimp wears fur, gliding about the earth as if he had a cloud hovercraft. Ah young love. Is there anything better. I wish you luck young Philip. I hope you find her again...there's nothing better in this world than impossible love that works out.
This is IBIZA - Sander Kleinenburg
La Dispute - Yan Tiersen