Despite being out the night previous, I had heard about this Formula Ibiza Workers Party and it would’ve taken Loki himself to keep me away. With a body in need of oodles of sleep, I dragged myself down to Egg to check it out. I mean it’s not like the night could be bad could it? The previous Formula @ Egg was a night I’d quite happily relive again and again as my Groundhog day but what was this one going to say? I spent the night before at the very same club and had a blinder, a sponsored birthday just the way it was supposed to be, Egg delivered on everything it promised for it’s fifth birthday and while that had me up for another night like you couldn’t believe it had me thinking “no way, not two quality nights in the same weekend”.

I arrived at around ten and managed to get in easily enough without too much of a wait, past the ever friendly security and into the garden for a great party vibe. It wasn’t that there was music or anything like that. It was just a good crowd all up for getting to know each other and that’s how I like my crowds.

After diving into the bar to grab myself a beer, I quickly checked out the basement to see what was happening there. And then it was another case of the friendly crowd. The way everything was looking at me and smiling I had to run off to the men’s to check if I had something on my face. All was safe so I went back into the basement and lost myself in the music for a while. It was all good and dandy but the basement? How often do I not make it past the basement?

I took my tired legs and ascended the stairs and as I reached the top my ears began to battle for supremacy, was it going to be the faint sound of the loft to my right or the terrace to my left? I thought there’s an order to things and as I normally am in love with the music in the terrace I’d do my thing in there for a while. I made my way through the crowd and plotted myself a spot near the back wall where once again I lost my self in the music. There’s me amongst a sea of people with my arms flailing rhythmically, happy days.

But almost as though I was running out of time and oh how the night was young, I rushed once more up stairs. The loft which had begun growing on me of late. In fact it was ever since a Formula morning where by the DJ played a Snow Patrol song and I violently sung along and much to my delight he actually enjoyed my rendition because he brought it back and despite the steers of lunacy from the others in the room I begun to try again in a bid to make my voice horse. See that’s what vocal house is all about (signing along to it) and that’s what Formula does best. But that’s a whole other story. I got up there and grabbed a drink and begun to dance in the isle that faces the back of the room.

A vibe I can deal with in all three rooms? This is what clubbing was all about. However upon realising that I had been there for the best part of an hour I had realised that I lost the crowd I attended with. Not good, I went downstairs to the garden to have a beer and go friend hunting but not to much avail. Having chatted with a couple random folk in between sips I accosted a chair and grabbed a fag. If I can’t find them, they’ll find me. At which point I somehow managed to meet the best group of people you could ever ask for and in between rounds of Corona, running off for a quick dance and a puffs on cigarettes we had ourselves a laugh.

I honestly can’t speak for everyone there but I came away from the night a very happy man. Maybe too happy as I ended up in a pub after where as I should’ve really been more sensible and gone to bed. Bring on the next one I say.

Wicked Review Mate thanks for the kind words just make sure your all down for the next episode of the formula journey next week when we invade the Whitehouse.


ADD YOUR BUDS!!

Nice one Sabe.

Mercí beatz.

Sabre, spotting you at Egg reminded me of all the Space nights @ Cross the back end of last year. Was going to beg fren with you in the early hours of the morn in the garden but summing came on that made me go back inside and hop about like monkey discovering his best pals stash of nuts...
You summed up the night like Mr Kipling and his country slices... exceedly good.
FORMULA have restored my faith in Egg after a previous bad experience, Fanx

ha ha, there's always next time FPS.

made me go back inside and hop about like monkey discovering his best pals stash of nuts...

Wahahahaha love it!

Wahahahaha love it!

I'm thinking of writing a book of abnormal similes.
I love that apparition with the trilby. sheer wonderment.