Amnesia’s 2024 opening party encapsulated the Ibiza spirit.. or at least the latest rendition of it

Seeing more of Ibiza, I begin to understand the sacredness attached to its vibe and history. As a first-time visitor to the Balearic Island, I’m struck by the beauty of it all. Rolling green hills stretch as far as the eye can see, with views of flawless blue skies reflecting perfectly in the crystal clear water, interrupted only by the silhouettes of towering palm trees. It does elicit feelings of an untouched sanctuary, and I start to feel a semblance of nostalgia for the “original Ibiza” that I never knew.

Following a stunning sunset in true Ibiza fashion, I arrive at Amnesia, with a luminous red sign confirming my destination. I make my way up a long ramp, hemmed in by bright green leaf-covered walls and the most extensive collection of floral shirts I’ve ever seen. It feels like approaching a festival, with the same kind of nervous hush descending over the crowd as we approach the gates. As a few unlucky ones get turned away despite their protests, I make it inside and weave through the jam-packed smoking area, which is filled to the absolute brim with sunburnt lads in sunglasses, as well as a significant proportion of smiling Spaniards, not to mention a fair few older heads, who seem to share the nostalgia I’ve baselessly adopted.

Finally entering the cavernous Terrace, my first impressions struggle to comprehend the pure size of it all. Thousands of pale bodies shift and bounce as far and as high as the eye can see, swaying in tech-house-induced stupor. In the middle of it all are four dancers, synchronised flashes of white, gold, green and blue, and seemingly the only people in the room to have discovered the rhythmic capabilities of hips and shoulders. Adorned in sparkly sequin bodysuits which reflect neon as they contort their bodies, they direct the hordes of 2-steppers below them like composers at the orchestra.

Green Velvet sets the tone for the evening, introducing the audience to a groovy rendition of the sub-heavy kicks that become hypnotically familiar as the night wears on. Next door there is no such gradual introduction, with resident Marco Faraone electing for heavier and more powerful techno rhythms, spurring punters to quickly forget their sense of self within the Main Room’s darker and more ominous setting. He describes the feeling of playing Amnesia’s opening as “meaning everything to him”, a place where, “musical expression comes first, before any compromise”. As the night goes on and the tempo continues to rise, a certain anarchic energy begins to fill the room, powered by the liberating sense of anonymity felt within the club’s cavernous interior.