For the purposes of this story, Miss W would like to start by taking a trip down memory lane. Going w-a-a-y back in time – well, to about *GULP* 1997 anyway – to time when, in a land far, far away from Ibiza, while working as a very junior editorial assistant at a very insignificant music magazine (it’s true – it hasn’t always been Mediterranean hotspots and VIP perks!), I was offered my very first ever chance to be on my very first ‘guest list’. And that, dear readers, was for a very exclusive gig by electronic punk rockers The Prodigy.
Fast forward to Ibiza 2010, and Miss W is once again getting her name ticked off a guest list to a gig by The Prodigy. Only this time, she’s come completely full circle, and is being whisked to the front of the queue (thanks to the lovely Jill Canney, who despite suffering through the pain of six-inch heels looked every bit the authentic Ibiza Rocks chick!), and escorted up into the VIP area to help celebrate the 5th anniversary of Ibiza Rocks, leaving the mosh pits to the professionals down in the audience…
Just one glimpse at the audience from my safe haven of the VIP balcony was enough to know those ‘Sold Out’ signs at the door were no exaggeration – it was THE most crowded I have ever seen Ibiza Rocks in its five-year existence! An illuminous blue light emanated from the stage – almost eerie, as smoke machines bellowed out giant clouds of mist over the crowd.
While Rob Da Bank was absolutely smashing out industrial ‘90s classics – from the era that Miss W fondly remembers the Prodigy from – fused with a hefty dose of drum and bass, I couldn’t help but wonder if the generation in the audience really KNEW who The Prodigy were. And as they stormed the stage, in a burst of fury and Malcolm McClaren-esque fashions, the entire dance floor erupted in screams… Errr, OK Miss W, it seems that the younger generation are indeed clued up on The Prodigy after all! I stand corrected…
As they smashed out a set comprised of classics (oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!) and tunes from last year’s Invaders Must Die album, the blue light changed into an evil looking red, a hue that seemed to perfectly match the music. I have to say though, despite the aggressive undertones of The Prodigy’s music, it was a completely up-for-it, fun crowd, all smiles and high-energy excitement.
As the smell of hot dogs fused with chlorine from the pool below (where there was a lifeguard on duty despite the fact it was heavily guarded by gates and security – safety first!) made its way into my nostrils, I turned to my favourite companion at all rock gigs… warm beer in a plastic cup! Just makes you feel one step closer to being Kate Moss really.
If you asked me to name a highlight from the show, I’m not really sure that I can. There were plenty of singalongs, like Diesel Power, Breathe, Poison, Out of Space, Take Me To The Hospital, Their Law, World’s on Fire, Voodoo People… the list goes on! At one point during my favourite ever song (and coincidentally also my favourite ever music video), Smack My Bitch Up, in a very Circo Loco style, The Prodigy MC Maxim had the crowd get right down on the floor (in a flurry of expletives Miss W cannot possibly publish here!), only to jump right up at that perfect moment when the bass kicks in.
Just one thing though – where was their rendition of happy birthday?
THE GOOD: Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday Ibiza Rocks! Happy birthday to you! Five years into the journey and what a way to celebrate… congrats and well done to Dawn, Andy and their team, and here’s to the next five years!
THE BAD: The constant spruiking of the after-party and Reclaim The Dancefloor over the music while Rob Da Bank was playing the best ever warm-up set for The Prodigy. SURELY there is enough signage around the hotel – and enough time in between DJ sets or after the gig – to do that kind of plugging. Somehow it just doesn’t seem right over the top of Rage Against The Machine’s Killing In The Name Of… and about five other songs!
THE GOSSIP: Was that a Mars Bar Miss W spied a pre-mohawked Keith Flint – once known as ‘the scariest man in music’ – tucking into before the show in the dressing room? His energy was absolutely relentless throughout the entire performance… but somehow it just seemed so anti-rock-and-roll to witness! Ahhh, the joys of a clean living 40-year old punk… they probably all went back to the hotel, put slippers on and had a cup of tea afterwards, right? RIGHT?