So my poor old Untitled Playlist has been a bit neglected of late. And it's a piss poor excuse I have for my lackadaisical approach to this fair blog.
Basically I'd lost my way a bit, I started to doubt myself and my whole ethos to my life and career. I panicked that journalism makes no money but accountancy does - yeah it's mind-numbing and soul-destroying but at least I'd have a nice flat overlooking the Thames to wither away my miserable existence, right?
Anywho, further into the demise I went and I was getting pretty fed up until I went on holiday.
I-Beeeeeef-Ahhhhh *shakes head in the excitable scream*
To Ibiza Rocks I flew (not on time, delayed, snore) and it was magnificent.
Highlights:
Swedish House Mafia at Cafe Mambo then on to Pacha (best club night ever!!)
Brother and The Wombats at Ibiza Rocks Hotel then on to Ibiza Rocks Bar and Es Paradis (worst DJ EVERRR)
Watching the sunset over San Antonio Bay
David Guetta at Pacha
Meeting Pritchard from Dirty Sanchez
Pete Tong at Cafe Mambo (fittest 50 year old going)
The list of stupid things my friends said
Being nocturnal for a week
My tan line :)
Lowlights:
My friend getting sick
Me getting sick (dodgy chicken burger)
Delayed flight out there
Even longer delayed flight back
Coming home to the worst rain I've ever seen!
Spending 10 precious minutes on hold to a retarded courier service. I shouted a lot.
But what I most loved about this holiday was that it reignited my absolute passion and belief in myself and in the music that I love.
Incredible.
And today I got another tattoo. I love it. I love that it represents what I truly care about and where my passion lies.
It's a musical note on my wrist.
So peace out kids, I'm back on track. Nothing to fret about...
p.s. Song of the holiday:
They were absolutely amazing. The best €70 I could have spent.
Rx
No comments:
Post a Comment