8 tracks that lit up Carl Cox at Privilege, a truly legendary Balearic party

After his 15-year love affair with Space came to an end last September, Carl Cox announced to the world that he would be relocating to Privilege in 2017 to host an exclusive two-date summer residency. When we spoke to Carl in May, he promised us that he and his crew were going to take Ibiza clubbing back to the old-skool. On Tuesday July 11, he and his team went one step further. Not only did they make good on their promise, they delivered one of the greatest Balearic parties of all time.

We arrive early – 9pm. There are around 300 people in the Coco Loco, perhaps 50 more puffing away on the smoking terrace – menthol slims and red Marlboros and electronic pipes spewing chocolate-orange scented vapour. By 9.30pm the Coco Loco is rammed. Island residents Jason Bye and Andy Baxter are dolling out tough, groove-laden tech-house. Right now, this is the only room open. Fuck, to make it down to the toilets we’re going to have to grab hold of this tree, jump this railing. The party hasn’t even started, but already anything goes.

Compared to Space, the capacity here at Privilege is at least double. You can get more punters through the door, but the added girth doesn’t necessarily guarantee more custom; you sill have to fill the venue. And on a night like this, you need to fill the multiple dancehalls with genuine ravers – young educated dance heads – otherwise the party won’t go off like it’s supposed to. It’s key to get the island workers in and get them in early. These kids are your techno fanatics, the aficionados. They direct the holidaymakers. They know the score and you want them on your side.

A few minutes before 10am, upstairs in the Thunderdome, a five hundred-strong brigade of workers come flocking into the venue via the long gangplank. They each wear a yellow wristband which allows entry into the venue for 15€, providing they arrive before 10am. Nobody can complain about Ibiza ticket prices tonight. Even if you’re completely broke, even if you’re not the sharpest needle on the tone arm, you can still manage to scrape together 15€. That’s approximately £12 to access a 10-hour rave-fest headlined by the best DJ in the world. If you want to be here tonight, on this momentous occasion, clearly Carl has made it affordable for everyone. From the youngest workers to the most affluent millionaires, everyone is invited. And by the look of the queues gathering outside, everyone is coming!

Journey through the night via the eight biggest tracks played below.

The Vista Club opens at around 11pm, maybe a bit later. The crowd gathered in the Coco Loco floods forward, easing congestion. Carl is billed to play an early set in the Coco Loco, but at the last moment Andy Baxter jumps on the mic to inform us that the main man will now be appearing in the larger Vista Club. It’s a wise move, presumably to prevent further bottlenecking in the Coco Loco.

11.30pm and Carl Cox is in mid-flow, unleashing a plethora of chugging tech-house to get things started. The Vista is as packed as we’ve ever seen it. The room is minimally dressed. There are no dancers. Just two branded symbols, throbbing red, hang from the ceiling. Otherwise, everything is black. The dancefloor is full and we’re right at the very front, our foreheads receiving temporary botox treatment from the raging speaker stacks.

Just before midnight, one of our crew departs to meet up with a friend in the Thunderdome. This means walking back through the Vista Club, through the Coco Loco lounge, up the stairs that hug the main hanger and up again to the big white Thunderdome on the roof. We don’t see her again for another hour! A word of warning for clubbers attending the second Pure Car Cox gig at Privilege next week: if you lose your place on the dancefloor early in the night, before the majority of the venue is open, you might not be able to reclaim your spot!

Seeing Carl Cox up close and personal in the intimate Vista Club room is a real treat for everybody. Obviously the man is a legend, a true pioneer of the scene. But the sheer magnitude of what he’s done for the island, for dance music in general, only hits home when you see the kind of crowd he draws: loyal, respectful ravers from all over the world, people who will take this experience away with them and never forget it. The night is still young, but there’s already a feeling on the dancefloor that this party is just a little bit special. A dream gig for DJs and punters alike.

Moments after Carl concludes his set in the Vista, the main hanger opens for action. Hurrying through the creaking doorways in the Coco Loco and also at the back of the Vista Club, thousands of ravers spew forth into the largest dancehall in clubland. The first thing we notice is the location of the DJ booth, which has been repositioned beneath the central mezzanine, opposite the traditional stage area where the decks are usually found. This allows for a two-tier dancefloor – one in front of the sound rig, the other on the raised stage platform above the old swimming pool. The scene is jaw-dropping, a mega rave of epic proportions.

Is it 2am or 3am? Maybe it’s even later? Intec boss Jon Rundell passed the baton to Joseph Capriati, who lowers the BPMs slightly and injects more groove. The Funktion-One sound rig is purring, the ground-breaking Vero system, designed for festival-sized arenas, wired up to power this exclusive club night. The mood across the entire venue has turned wonderfully feral, especially here in the hanger. Three, four, five thousand ravers packed on to the dancefloor, wedged into every nook, along every walkway, generating a tribal undercurrent that make the hairs on the back of our neck stand up.

Another five thousand party animals are scattered across the sprawling venue, doing their thing in the various side rooms, indoors and out. We wander smiling past a carpet of wasted clubbers taking a breather on the Thunderdome floor. Heading downstairs to the garden, chilled smokers line the radiant green steps – if they can find one to sit on. Back in the Vista Club, Fuse mainstay Archie Hamilton has just dropped an acidic classic that just won’t stop giving. Archie’s performance is notably assured. Clearly he’s in his element on such an apex card.

In the main hanger, Joseph Capriati hands over to Carl Cox for the final leg of the journey. The dancefloor is still rammed, even at 5am. The hardcore clubbers that remain are already talking about the importance of next week. “Fuck it,” one shirtless rave chud says to his girl in-between debilitating muscle cramps, “let’s change our flights. Stay another week?” Most of us are thinking the same thing. If there really is only going to be one more big Coxy gig this summer, we’ll do anything to catch it. But for some reason – call it optimism – we can’t imagine it’s just going to be two dates. After all, surely Carl is way too big for half measures?

Johnny Lee is Mixmag's Ibiza correspondent