Last night was Keinemusik at Pacha. And it was probably the last time I'll set foot there — not because something dramatic happened, but simply because it didn't click for me. The set was solid, Keinemusik does what they do and there's not much to complain about musically. But the venue itself... I don't know. Pacha carries this reputation as Ibiza's temple, the name everyone drops, and I showed up with that expectation and found something far more ordinary: impossible to move, people packed on top of each other everywhere, and — being honest — more than a few people who urgently needed to discover the concept of deodorant. Not an exaggeration. Field report.

What I will give credit to without hesitation: one guy at the bar who took care of me all night, no attitude, genuinely attentive and friendly — none of that "who are you to talk to me" energy you sometimes get in places like this. Security was the same, no arrogance anywhere. So the problem isn't the venue, it's not the staff. It's the mix of people that ends up concentrating there. And nobody controls that.

There's something nobody tells you before coming to Ibiza alone: the island is built for groups. Most people arrive in packs — 8, 10, 15 friends who've known each other forever, coming to do exactly what they do back home but with a better soundtrack. And if you show up solo, you feel it. It's not that anyone treats you badly, it's that you simply don't fit the dynamic. Sometimes people even look at you sideways, like traveling alone requires an explanation. The Spanish and French crowds don't help much with that either — they don't open conversations easily, at least that's been my experience these past nights.

Being completely honest: Ibiza isn't what I expected. Not in the sense that everything is going wrong, but in the sense that the image you build in your head before arriving — that one about total connection with the music, with the energy, with something almost spiritual — crashes against the reality that this is also a massive business, full of weekend tourism and people who come to say they were here more than to actually be here. That wears on you. And experiencing it alone makes it even more obvious.

No regrets about coming. But I'm not going to romanticize it just because Ibiza carries the weight of the name. Keinemusik sounded good, the night passed, and tomorrow is Circoloco at DC10. Different philosophy, different crowd, different story. Let's see if the color changes there.

Me at Pachá with Keinemusik

Me leaving Pachá