Despite the fact I have little to no interest in getting sexy with David Guetta, regardless of how famous he is, the FMIF parties at Pacha are a fixture on the Ibiza clubbing calendar which should not be ignored - being pretty much impossible to do so anyway. Get in the general vicinity of Pacha on a Thursday night and you’re suddenly surrounded by thousands of his ‘number 1 fans’ all clambering for a glimpse of the Frenchman’s friendly and famous face.
Thursdays at Pacha probably see the most lucrative night per square foot of space compared to any other club night across the island. The VIP section - which is extended towards the rear of the club and back out to include the Funky Room - coupled with this being one of, if not the, most popular nights on a consistent basis would certainly ensure Cathy, David and Team Pacha go home having lined their pockets sufficiently, bringing ultimate satisfaction, I’m sure.
I know that sounds like a poorly guarded moan about ‘money and VIPs’, but it isn’t. Regardless of how poor I am and regardless of how little I enjoy being so close to so many sweaty people at any one time, you can’t help but appreciate how committed, loyal and enthusiastic his fans are, right through from the dancefloor, the opened up Global Room to the very back of VIP. It isn’t even the typical case whereby you would get to a club, the party takes some time to warm up, and then things go crazy for the headliner - a FMIF night is nuts from start to finish; at no point does the crowd let up. More so than many other nights, when David Guetta steps into the DJ booth, arms outstretched a la Jesus, the few thousands people he faces worship him. Whatever he is selling, they are buying. Fair play to you, mate.
Anyway, back to the night. I strolled in to catch the ‘Superstar Special Guest’ for the hour of pre-Guetta madness. The team at FMIF and Pacha had brought in international DJ and producer Diplo, much to the enjoyment of all involved. Weirdly, I’ve had a couple of tracks in my head of late for no reason other than I just keep hearing them in random places. The first is a ‘booty booty bounce’ remix of Lana Del Rey’s Summertime Sadness, the second being Missy Elliot’s Work It, which is an absolute tune, I don’t care what you say. Missy got it goin’ on! Diplo eased through his eclectic set, actually doing a really good job of warming up for Guetta and the variety in tracks working well for both the crowd and myself.
Popping up from behind the decks like a reverse-imaginary-lift routine, Guetta adopted the aforementioned ‘I am Jesus’ stance and Diplo quietly slipped off into the background. Launching into his set with his own Ain’t A Party track, produced with Glowinthedark, to which every single person knew the words. Everyone. The same applies to the vast majority of tracks played across his set in fact - Don’t Let Me Go, Alice Deejay’s Better Off Alone for example - all sung pitch perfect (ha!) by the masses.
To finish then - I took a quick stroll around Pacha before I made my exit, I stumbled across a really weird scene. Picture this - two guys looking fairly happy and relaxed sat at a table on the rooftop terrace, smoking a shisha pipe with a guy dressed in a full outfit of the Heath Ledger take on The Joker from Batman. The guy just looked up at me, blankly, like this was normal. I took a quick photo and legged it. What a ridiculous night.
Photography by James Chapman
