Clubbing in Ibiza is big business and I always assumed it was run like big business. Men in suits. Offices. Power lunches (possibly). Faxes. Secretaries making notes. You know, organised.

How wrong I was. Turns out Ibicenco club deals are done on a basis that makes the Sant Jordi Saturday market look like Selfridges. It may (but is by no means guaranteed) to involve: endless hours of waiting, linguistic muddles, chupitos, gay discos, bad wifi connections, cutthroat negotiating, midnight meetings that start in one club and end hours later in another, 4AM cross-island dashes to “check out the competition” - all played out in a haze of booze, hash, thumping kick drums and financial desperation.

That is roughly how unlikely bedfellows SuperMartXe (Spanish gay spectacular) and Sophisticated Funk (a hip-hop/R&B outfit) came to share Friday nights at Privilege. Given they are replacing Manumission and one wrong move in the World’s Biggest Club equals the World’s Biggest Flop the level of barely controlled chaos is either insane or admirable. But very, very Ibicenco.

Cila