I look at those girls hanging around in the booths (some may be groupies, others WAGS and the remainder genuine music nerds – oh, and of course there’s Cathy Guetta, but let’s face it, it’s her booth really) and I can never imagine myself to be one of them.
Sure, I’ve tried – plenty of my friends are DJs (ahem, even my boyfriend!), I’ve worked in Space and Pacha where it was my JOB to be there, and I’ve even muscled my way into the best booth of them all, DC10, but when push comes to shove (as it tends to in DC10), I am just not comfortable in that small, claustrophobic confine with thousands of people in front of me.
Howevs. This week, my very own personal DJ* was asked to be the official in-house DJ for the Ibiza 123 Festival, warming up for the likes of Sting, Elton John and Lenny Kravitz, I thought perhaps I could break my own rule for 1, 2, or even 3 nights. But then my mind was overcome with a constant stream of questions…
1. What would I possibly wear? (times three)
2. Is it ok to dance? And if so, which moves could I bust out on each occasion?
3. Will I get in the way? There’s so much equipment in there I don’t want to risk dripping ice from my vodka cranberry on your precious techy stuff!
4. Will everyone be looking at me and wondering who the hell I am and why I’m there, the way I look at (err, judge) other boothies on any other given night?
5. How many times will I appear inadvertently in the background of people’s camera phone photos as they wave them in the air trying to get a snapshot of the DJ?
6. Will I get to meet Sting/Elton/Lenny on their way onto the stage? And if so, what is the etiquette? One air kiss or two? Do I compliment them on their performance afterwards?
7. More importantly, will I get to meet Luciano? He and I have some unfinished business to discuss.
8. Will I get to wear one of those cool access all areas passes? Can I keep it afterwards?
9. Is it totally dorky to take photos from the booth?
10. Is it addictive? If I go in there once, will I want to go in there every time? Is there a chance I am a Cathy Guetta in the making?
Turns out, I didn’t have to worry about any of the above. My time in the booth was not to be, as AB wasn’t actually on the main stage, rather, playing from the smaller sound and lighting tent in the middle of the festival ground, press passes were non-existent, VIP passes even rarer than hen’s teeth, and the chances of me slipping through the intensely tight security (none of whom ‘knew who I was’ since they’d been shipped in from Barcelona for the event!) were truly impossible!
So thank you universe, for helping me stick to my rules!
*Not his real name.