- So we all know Sven's a busy man, but is he taking some time out to read RA these days? Maybe not, but if by any stretch of the imagination he cared to glance over my last review, he'd know that I wasn't exactly taken in by the last set I'd witnessed at Cocoon owing in small part to the awful, awful "Love Shack" re-edit he played.
So thank the lord it was seemingly absent this time. Call me a boring purist, but such muck has no place in the hallowed walls and high ceilings of a true techno Mecca. This was more like the Sven we know; tough, proper techno, in an atmosphere befitting his track selection, featuring current favourites such as Paul Ritch's "Split the Line" and DJ Koze's "Mrs Bojangles"—tracks which are more akin to what the Cocoon devotees have become accustomed to. The madness such tracks prompted seemed to epitomise the night's atmosphere—wild and hedonistic in equal measure. It's also a pleasure to report that Sven's enthusiasm was back with a vengeance, his avid gesticulating behind the Amnesia terraces shrine-like booth laying claim to this.
It's an oft-overlooked fact that so much of Sven's popularity isn't just based on his marathon sets. It the rapport he has with the crowd; weird dancing, manic hand claps, even crawling along the stage like a dog at Timewarp. Basically he's the kind of nutter you'd know would be down on the dance floor himself were it not for his talent behind the decks. As the masses heaved below him, every new track, every breakdown, every bass line was fervently lapped up right on through to the 7 AM mark.
While it was by no means Cocoon's strongest line up of the season, it wasn't a weak one either, with support coming from Alter Ego producer Roman Flügel, Raresh, Chris Tietjen and Jacek Sienkiewicz. Switching constantly between rooms is part of the fun, and Raresh was doing a good job at entertaining the capacity crowd in the main room.
As far as the eye could see, Cocoon was completely sold out—not an easy achievement in Ibiza in these post-Manumission days. Hell, even Coxy can't do the same right now, and Chemical Brothers aside, the same could be said for We Love at Space. Before the night drew to a close, there was still time for robots (on stilts no less) to descend on the dance floor, where they literally let sparks fly above the cosmopolitan audience; one of those weird little things you only see in Ibiza. If Ibiza is indeed dead this summer, no one it seems, has told Sven.