I
biza is, on the face of it, an island of extremes — a tangible schism between the big-room sounds of the giant, flashing superclubs and the throbbing beat of its grimy underground parties,
the VIPs with their hundred Euro bottles and the techno kids in their over-sized shades. So when Luciano, ex-minimal pin-up and DC10 resident, announced at this year’s Miami Winter Music Conference that he was to become the new Pacha resident, many were perplexed by what they saw as an uncomfortable union transgressing the divide.
Cut to a small beach bar at Talamanca one scorching afternoon, however, where Luciano is holding court surrounded by a few close members of his Cadenza label and it’s clear after a few minutes in his company that it’s a move, like everything else he has done, he is committed to heart and soul. “We’ve been talking about doing something at Pacha for two years but they weren’t ready and we weren’t ready to do what we expected to do in the club,” he says animatedly. “Simple things that make our parties a little bit different. Details, but ones that make a big influence in the end — the soundsystem, DJ booth, things like that.”
Cries of sell-out were perhaps inevitable, yet it’s a charge Luciano is quick to dismiss, his own packed gigs at both the Rio Music Conference and Winter Music Conference suggesting it’s his huge popularity that is benefiting Pacha as much as the other way around. “I think we definitely do underground music,” he states firmly. “We’re not changing anything, our policy of music, stuff like that. The Pacha thing, it’s a big challenge for us, coming from DC10, the parties we did at Ushuaïa, all the career I had in Ibiza. We just felt it was the right choice to go to Pacha. “We’re going to try and take it and make an alternative. We’re going to bring our crew. It’s not just me, it’s thirty artists with an amazing crew behind, our booking agency and all the people on the island that work with us.” For those who doubt his integrity in delivering something special, you need only look at the line-ups that are in place. As well as a solid core of artists from his Cadenza label like Lee Van Dowski, Reboot, Cesar Merveille, Mirko Loko, Robert Dietz and Ernesto Ferreyra, there’s a host of leftfield techno talent including DJ Koze, the consistently brilliant Carl Craig and Henrik Schwarz live. But it’s the rare appearance of Detroit legends Moodymann and Theo Parrish that provides the surest proof that Luciano’s pairing with Pacha will provide something unique. “I think it’s going to be a little earthquake for the people here,” he says with a knowing smile. “The music that goes on in the clubs today, the young people, most of them, don’t know who Theo Parrish and Moodymann are, it’s just old school music lovers, so of course there’s going to be this shock. They like ghetto-funk, all this kind of music, so it’s an alternative that shows where the music comes from.”
In an era when bland ‘superstar’ DJs are more often the product of slick marketing than true musical vision or personality, the arrival of someone like Moodymann, whose recent appearance for a talk at
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the Red Bull Music Academy in London saw him swigging cognac while a woman braided his famous Afro, promises a much needed dose of raw, unadulterated, swaggering, who-gives-a-fuck cool. “They’re extreme. When I met them, they were like, ‘Yo man, what’s up?’ and I was like...” he says giving the look of an over-awed fan suddenly set adrift by his whiteness. “I think it’s hilarious to have the chance to have these ghetto guys from Detroit in the context of Ibiza at our party. I think a lot of people will be expecting something else because they play really slow and really deep and I love that. Electronic music isn’t all bang, bang, bang, there’s a real range and those guys from the beginning have been doing really precious stuff for the evolution of music. “The Detroit thing is an important hook-up for me,” Luciano adds of what is obviously a personal wish fulfilment. “The whole beginning of my career was through Derrick May and the guys from Detroit so it was a main influence for me, music-wise. For me those guys are living legends, it’s so hard to get them. I wanted to give a chance for music lovers to see them in the flesh and blood.”
While the presence of such luminaries at Pacha, whose brand has long become synonymous with luxury and lifestyle, might gall some musical purists, for Luciano it’s a move back to the club’s deep roots on the island and is what informs the season’s theme of ‘Vagabundos’, the Portuguese name for an itinerant n’er do well. “It’s about bringing to Pacha what Pacha was,” Luciano suggests. “It had this vagabundo vibe in the ’70s.” Room two welcomes Cadenza Lab, the new digital label Luciano set up to cope with the needs of a large roster of artists all constantly producing new music. While acknowledging that vinyl is the best quality format, Cadenza’s release schedule of twelve records a year was proving too restrictive, with tracks often being shelved for over a year before release. “As an artist I thought this was disrespectful and it’s not fitting to the way music goes now with the internet,” admits Luciano. “Everything goes very quick. So we thought the vinyl should be saved for very special projects. Digital is not so appreciated but it’s still a big buzz for the label and it’s a good push- up for young guys like Francisco Allendez or Felipe Valenzuela who are producing twenty tracks a week, which are all the bomb.”
With the heat generated by the move, he’s also keen to point out that he’s still running a free party at Ushuaïa every Sunday till midnight, gathering his crowd together and building the energy so that when it transfers to Pacha, they hit the ground running.
Having been coming to the island for a decade now, Luciano’s move to its most quintessential club potentially marks a new era for Pacha’s musical credibility, reinventing the club and helping it return to its innovative beginnings. But however things pan out, it marks another unexpected twist in a love affair with Ibiza, which began almost as soon as he stepped off the plane. “I came first here because Ricardo and I were supposed to be finishing a track together,” he recalls,
pondering where it all started. “He wasn’t even DJing, he was working in a record shop. When I came here, I told Ricardo I was only coming here for three days. I had most of the expectations that people have. Then when I got here I was really impressed with the beauty of the island so I stayed nearly a month.” It’s this very same spirit of open-mindedness that he hopes will prove his instincts right, his final words before disappearing to Pacha for his first sound check: “Come and see us before talking.”
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