Ramble, rant or reminisce, this is an artist’s opportunity to pen their own Clash article.
This issue, Jack Steadman on Bombay Bicycle Club’s Balearic experience…
“The most un-laddiest of lads arrived in Magaluf on June 6th. With my short shorts and Madvillain T-shirt revealing my tiny arms, struggling to lift our heavy bags, I looked around the Mallorca Rocks Hotel reception and saw nothing but toned six-packs or sunburnt beer bellies.
As I was getting changed to get straight into the pool I imagined that I would walk outside and the record that the poolside DJ was playing would scratch to a silence and all heads would turn and glare.
It was a cool place to people-watch, especially from your balcony with a cold beer. The main thing I noticed was that it was mostly big groups of one sex, generally not mingling, like a school disco, and that it was a sin to play a song’s original mix. The gig itself was a lot of fun, we had never played as the sun slowly sets, and it was just such a peculiar place for a gig, with the stage next to the pool and people watching from their balconies.
On our way to Ibiza, I joked that the penthouse they were giving us was just to make it sound cool. We opened the door to find a huge balcony with a hot tub, and an Xbox in every room (just in case we all get bored and lock ourselves in our rooms to play Pro Evo?). By this point our minds were blown. Why don’t the headline band get the penthouse? Oh I see, they are staying in the Ibiza Rocks villa.
I could never get my head round how Lenny Kravitz employs someone to roll his joints for him, but the spoilt level just keeps rising I suppose. It all makes sense now, how you meet one of your heroes and they’ve turned into a dick. Over these three days, people were giving us clothes, Blackberrys, guestlist to superclubs. Me and Ed used to go on long walks after our gigs, and would always talk about the future and if it keeps getting more surreal or if bands get used to it. You play at Glastonbury or support your favourite band and say, ‘There it is, the very top’, but then you’re in your hot tub with Playboy Bunnies. What I love is how out of place we usually are in these situations. I think back to one interview in our dressing room which consisted of five minutes of awkward silence and then, ‘So when are the band going to show up?’
I had no idea what to say to the Bunnies, it was a shame our six-pack T-shirts hadn’t arrived in time. I will never forget DJing at their private terrace party – the rest of the band in sombreros dancing in that so-drunk-I-can’t-dance way with ten Playboy Bunnies.
It’s time me and Ed took a walk and asked the same question, because surely after the last three days it is time to say, ‘There it is, the very top.’”
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Clash Magazine Issue 52
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