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Hideout Festival Day 4



MK arrived. This, to Hideout, was big news. A mass crowd had gathered up at the barriers in anticipation of his 5pm pool-party start at Papaya. Backstage, photographers took selfies, writers exchanged high fives, a number of the crowd somehow snuck in and loitered with intent whilst the man himself paced about in his usual calm, slightly bemused manner. Matters were not helped by DT’s insistence on wearing an MK t-shirt, to interview MK. The roar that went up when he took to the stage temporarily eclipsed the music despite Papaya’s massive upgraded speaker stacks. MK swapped a few cables, checked his laptop, gave DT a wink and kicked 5,000 people into instant life. Sweat streamed off every wall, people danced furiously despite the drunken 30-something degree heat. We headed to our second boat party: Moda Black with Huxley, Jaymo & Andy George. There was a lot of rum. There was a lively debate as to whether to play back to back to back, or do two tracks each, or do three tracks each, or just drink a tonne of rum and see what happens. The latter did the trick pretty well. It was the last night of Hideout and it felt it, the crowd running just a bit hotter, more rounds, more shots, more drunken banter on deck and in the booth. The boat docked back in the pitch dark and the crowd dispersed for one final, epic pre-drink. DT met some crazed Slovenians, one of whom ran a Slovenian festival-transfer business, the other his web designer. We found ourselves back at their flat where there was a lot of vodka, a lot of discussion on Serbian girls and straight-arm drinking that took place whilst the web designer simultaneously edited the Prime Minister of Slovenia’s web page. We then drove the the beach at maybe 90 mph, pausing in the car park to accept random shots of bottles from groups drawn the sound of Umek playing at full volume out the car. Hazily wandering into a Papaya backstage party, Croatian girls in various states of undress were now in hot pursuit of MK, who himself was attempting to hide onstage, blending in at the back of the DJ booth as Skream wound up Papaya’s main stage for one last night. Data Transmission continued buying rounds like it was going out of fashion in the VIP bar before heading to Aquarius and kidnapping a photographer. It had been a good week. Hideout is a divisive place, part Brit-Package-Shuffler, part alternate Ibiza. But 2014’s line-up, crowd, programming and vibe were absolutely spot-on. We’ll be back next year. 

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Grahame Farmer

Grahame Farmer’s love affair with electronic music goes back to the mid-90s when he first began to venture into the UK’s beloved rave culture, finding himself interlaced with some of the country’s most seminal club spaces. A trip to dance music’s anointed holy ground of Ibiza in 1997 then cemented his sense of purpose and laid the foundations for what was to come over the next few decades of his marriage to the music industry.

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