Naxos 2001
March 29th, 2002 by freddie96
Thursday 27th September
Across the island with Karon to the fishing port of Metsuna, almost a ghost town at this time of year. The only people to be seen are in the last taverna left open, where we lunch on ‘big fish’ (the ‘small fish’ are really too small to contemplate), aubergine fritters and our daily Greek salad.
Our map tells us there is a fine beach south of here, so we head off on the bright new road, as wide as a highway and freshly pressed silvery-black. In minutes, however, it peters out, and we find ourselves passing between mountainous piles of bitumen, gravel and sandy rock chips, with not a house in sight. The arid land around us looks like someplace in the western American desert. The beach we find is tiny, and plastered in dried seaweed, but we spread our towels under its sole tree nonetheless. I go out like a light, exhausted from a full week of partying. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much in my life. Time for some silence.
The same happens later that night. After watching the sun sink into Naxos harbour, we walked the town’s backstreets until we found the taverna destined just for us. I’m so relaxed on our return to the hotel that I sink straight into sleep before there’s any question of joining the poolside throng. Not even the pumping sound of Alucidnation’s deep house set can pull me back from the even deeper undertow of sleep.
Friday 28th September
A sunset to die for, sweeping across the whole sky. Doing yoga with Isla and a small band of lithe enthusiasts on the beach, we see it all. In slow motion.
Today is Pete and Katrina’s tenth anniversary, so they play a short set together. Katrina drops some drum ‘n’ bass and Pete follows it with something else entirely. What a joyful racket they make together tonight.
The party goes on. What day is this?
Saturday 29th September
Another very fine day. My second set, enlivened throughout by the conversation of Matt, Larry, and Karon. How civilised it is to be able to talk and play records at the same time. And then jump in the sea afterwards.
There is something in the air today. Hexstatic and Tapehed set up their cameras on the beach to film some Ninja duelling. Mayhem ensues. Someone reminds me this is Saturday, after all.
A night for the mongrel mix, then: wine, Metaxa, vodka. Then Gru hands round the raki, given to her by the friendly people at the Corali taverna. She is off tomorrow so must dispose of it. Stavros, who is here from Athens, insists it is not good raki and gives us tequila to banish its taste. The gates to experience seem well and truly open…
So Stavros and I stare at the stars, and discuss what a difference their presence makes. When I was twelve, the discovery that the starlight we see is already several thousand years old blew my tiny mind; my view of reality was changed forever. Tonight I feel their power all over again. I offer up a silent prayer to them.
Sunday 30th September
Ash has a story to tell. After hearing Eva play her acoustic set yesterday, he told her he’d love to hear her cover Ian Dury’s ‘Wake Up And Make Love To Me’.
‘Why don’t you bring your guitar down to the pool tomorrow and we can practice it together?’ he helpfully suggested. Eva does not take this well. ‘I’m afraid to tell you I’m a married woman,’ she replies. Ash was still blushing.
To Plaka for dinner with Pete and Vicki. Sunset skies and a sublime moonrise above the mountains. Over octopus and aubergine moussaka, Pete shares last night’s dream with us: the Future Sound of London arrive in Naxos to play a closing set, but he is too drunk to introduce them. They decline to play. Contrite, he tells them they can play at whatever volume they want…
Monday 1st October
During Mighty Math’s set last night, Katrina and Caro fantasised about hearing music at zero gravity. This afternoon, floating with my eyes closed on a lilo in the pool while Pete plays, I get a taste of what this must be like. Sublime sounds surround and envelop me.
It is beginning to dawn on us that we will be leaving this place in a day or so. This might explain why tonight is as big a party as last year’s final night.
It all starts calmly enough, with AJ and Jony Easterby’s extraordinary audiovisual set. There’s something about this kind of visually-rich work that simultaneously re-tunes your ears. Certainly Laura B’s warm electronica has never sounded so fine, and when Tom Middleton takes to the decks we are primed to party like never before.
Foremost amongst the party animals is Katrina. Surrounded by Caro, Kate, Emma, Isla, Laura and Karon, at times it’s as if some wayward hen’s night is underway. I take refuge in Bruce’s camper van with Ash and Marcus. We fancy a burger and cuppa but Bruce won’t oblige.
I feel entirely out of time. This isn’t so much the future of clubbing but its past come back to serenade us – and I don’t just mean Tom’s remarkable selection of 80s hits. Looking out across the swimming pool surrounded by parasols and people sipping cocktails, for a moment I feel we are somewhere like St Tropez in the 1920s. Where and when am I again?
Tuesday 2nd October
In yoga, inhalation is energy-giving. The same seems true here – I feel I could live off this clean sea air. Stumbling out into the warm light of day at midday, we find Marcus is still on the decks, having taken over from Tokyo’s Sound of Speed at 5am. He has now switched entirely to a different clock, rising in the dark and bedding down in the afternoon. This way he doesn’t miss a sunrise.
Centre Edge is also beaming: Pete has just asked him to play the Winter Festival. Shane has got his mojo back and is celebrating with a Ninja headshave courtesy of Larry Lush and a tequila sunrise apiece. And here is the beautiful Mr Middleton, ready to resume where he left off the night before…
What happens next goes something like this: sunset, moonrise, moonset, sunrise, sunset, moonrise. It’s one long trip that takes us higher than the sun and onto a coach speeding back to Naxos town before we even begin to come down. Personally I blame Morris. And the full moon that hangs over our heads all night.
For two weeks now we’ve been watching that moon grow. Tonight, in all its glory, it presides over what feels like an ancient rite re-enacted in modern clothes. Pete honours it with a whole night of full moon music, setting the mood himself with some tunes full of gentle light and strong feeling. With Hexstatic following on, things begin to get more twisted, twisted even further by Luke Vibert into a shape none of us recognise. What kind of party is this?
A Morris dance is the answer. When he takes over at 3am, we are all perfectly ready to take a trip with the Mixmaster through the darkest hours of the night and back out into the sunshine. Nor does he disappoint: this seems the kind of work he was born to do. We dance, we jabber, we grin, we laugh, we cry… we are true lunatics, in the original sense of the word. The arrival of the sun is an utter relief. Morris drops ‘Les Fleurs’ and, of course, we blossom. Universal unfolding.
Wednesday 3rd October
Rather than sleep, Karon and I retire to our room at 7am to wash, and play backgammon. Morris is still going strong.
He plays ‘Police and Thieves’: with a jolt, I remember what kind of world we are returning to. What we have been doing seems the only sensible response. Madness must be met with madness.
Later we glimpse Morris sound asleep behind the decks while Chris from Deep Water plays. Silently we offer a toast to the master at rest.
The afternoon passes, with backflips, beers and Bruce Bickerton. He has reappeared with his crate of vinyl to wish us well on our way: ‘Blue Horizons’ and ‘Suspended In Air’ say it all, but he adds ‘Albatross’, ‘If You Leave Me Now’ and the Spice Girls’ ‘Goodbye’ for good measure.
The sun sets. We stare and stare at it, unbelieving. Are we really leaving all this?
Envoi
Back in London, I still can’t achieve any real coherence. I miss Naxos too much.
When people ask me what it was like, a sequence of snapshots that have yet to find their home go through my head… finding Joe 90 asleep on the beach in his dressing gown… Scott, never, ever, without a drink in his hand… a Naxian wave of backflips into the pool… Stu getting his head shaved… tables covered in kalamari, salads, fried fish and retsina… the barman throwing handfuls of white paper napkins into the air at five in the morning to express his happiness… the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea…
‘Sooner or later everyone gets into chill out,’ Morris remarked to me one day by the pool. ‘But first they have to grow up a little.’
In Naxos this year I definitely did some growing up.
Freddie B., October 2001
[galleryurl=http://www.bigchill.net/gallery.html?id=17]Naxos 2001 photogallery[/galleryurl]









