José Padilla

Smooth operator

Interviewed by Bill in London, March 3, 2005

The man who brought the chill to Ibiza’s sunsets, Jose Padilla actually made his name as a straight-up dance DJ at Es Paradis before caressing the Ibizan dusk with Art Of Noise. Padilla’s Café Del Mar compilation series originally began life as bootleg cassettes sold on hippie markets on the island, turned legitimate and went on to sell four million units worldwide. Jose also claims the first time he saw anyone doing the fabled acid house dance (big fish, little fish, cardboard box) was to ‘Music For A Found Harmonium’ by the Penguin Café Orchestra.

“I was playing more experimental, more jazzy, more quality.”

When were you born and where?

I was born in 1955 in Girona, which is the next town to Barcelona in Catalunya. I grew up in between France and Barcelona. My childhood was in France, south of France, Perpignan. My father was a farmer.

How did you get into music?

Well, my home was always a very musical place. My older brother was a teddy boy, he was into rock, ‘The Twist’ and all that. I always had a deck in my home with 7-inches from Elvis and Johnny Hallyday. My brother was practising rock’n’roll with his friends.

Did you start collecting records when you were young?

I bought my first record when I was 13 with my own wages. I was living in Barcelona then. Collecting properly, I was 16 or 17 and I was more into rock and symphonic rock; I was a big fan of Genesis, Manfred Mann, German rock, Klaus Schulze, Rolling Stones, of course, and Black Sabbath. When I was about 20 I had to sell my records, because I was in deep trouble. I had about 100.

How did you get into DJing?

The first time I saw a DJ in action, that’s what I wanted to do. I was about 16. It was in Lloret de Mar. I was DJing for nothing, really. I was a friend of the main DJ so he was letting me play a few tracks when he went to the toilet or when he was tired. In those days, a DJ played all night long. So when he had a break he let me play a few records. My first wages as a DJ, I was 19, something like that. It was £15 a week. 3,000 pesetas, I always remember. It was good for a 19-year-old guy.

When did you go to Ibiza?

It was 1976. I was 21. It’s a long story. When you’re that age, I was fighting my family so I was escaping from my family. I didn’t want to do the job they wanted me to do. The usual teenage thing. I ended up there and I’m… still there.

Did you go with the intention of DJing?

I wanted to DJ, but in those days you couldn’t make a living from DJing in Spain. So I did all kinds of work. I worked as a waiter, I worked in construction, all sorts of different jobs. My first job as a DJ in Ibiza was in a hotel called Bergantin. It was a very little box, with a little room. I was playing Barry White, Abba, Julio Iglesias and all that shit. But, you know, it was decent wages. This was about 1976. Then in 1978, ’79 I had the chance to play in Es Paradis, which was the main club in San Antonio, an open air place. In those days, they tested different DJs, so you had to go and prove yourself. I went there and proved myself and got the job.

Was it the sort of job that, once you got it, you played all night every night?

Every night from 10 till six in the morning.

What sort of clientele did it have?

It was cosmopolitan, but there was also the freaky hippie type, you know. It was open air. It was a different vibe. Different people, different drugs. It was more relaxed, put it that way.

What sort of music did you play?

Well, considering I didn’t have much choice of records and the disco stuff was really difficult to get hold of it, stuff like Salsoul Orchestra and Chic. I play from rock and reggae to James Brown. I played everything I could. Sometimes I had to repeat records two or three times in a night. We played stuff that had a vibe. In those days, you can make people dance with Pink Floyd. I remember having the dancefloor full with a track from Ultravox called ‘Vienna’, or funky stuff like Timmy Thomas.

Where did you get your records from?

Wherever I can. There was a very good record store called Flip Music from a French guy, in Ibiza Town. He was the first guy to bring stuff from abroad.

Do you remember any specific records you played when you were playing in Es Paradis?

John Miles’ ‘Music’ was last track of every night, Fischer Z, Supertramp, ‘Honky Tonk Woman’, Harold Melvin & The Bluenotes, Pink Floyd ‘Money’.

But that’s a bastard to dance to, it’s in a weird time signature!

They loved it!

Really?

Yeah. It was a different crowd, it was more acid and joints. I used to put all the lights out and make it fuckin’ black. No music. For a minute. Fuck you! I used to do that. Now you wait. Then they used to start to whistle and scream. Then I start with, I don’t know, anything: David Bowie. That’s the problem now, they don’t have any patience, they don’t have imagination.

What other things did you do when you were playing there?

It was really creative. We didn’t have CD, we didn’t have minidisc, we didn’t have DAT. We had two cassette decks and two decks. So I used to put in the cassette decks some birds or some waves or some screaming, you know, sound effects. It was beautiful.

How did it differ from Pacha?

Oh it was really trendy, the hippie jet set.

Which were the good clubs in Ibiza at the time?

At the beginning of the ’80s it was Pacha and Ku. There were two Cesars who were DJs. There was a Cesar, who was in Pacha, who was the only guy in Spain who could fly to New York because they have the money and power to do it. Then there was another Cesar, a black guy from New York was playing in Ku. Then there was Glory’s, which doesn’t exist now. And in Glory’s there was Jean-Claude [Maury] from Belgium. And Amnesia was a rock place, it was nothing.

What did you do after Es Paradis? You were there two years?

Three. Then I went to a new club called Manhattan which this guy built with a lot of money. They call it macro-discotheque. It was very fashionable: big, three floors, elevators, swimming pool inside, cinema and all that bullshit. So I went there for money, but it was a big mistake.

  He was a manic depressive and he shot himself. I tried to keep it going, but when you’ve got the blood spots in your bar…

Why a mistake?

Because I went for the money. Es Paradis was beautiful during those years, you know? After two years Manhattan burnt down so I lost the job. So then I work in all the discotheques in San Antonio, Playboy, Nitos, Extasis. Then I did a couple of things in Ibiza, played a couple of times in Ku and in Pacha, but only as a guest, I was never resident. Then I opened my own bar on the other side, the Es Vedra side, Cala Vedella. It was called Museo, because it was a museum. It was a lot of work, I put a lot of energy in there and I could play my music. We had paintings and sculptures from artists all over the island. It started in 1986.

What had you been playing up until that point? Had you been playing the chill out stuff you became known for, things like Penguin Café Orchestra?

I tell you what, the first time I heard Penguin Café Orchestra was in Glory’s in the ’80s and it was this guy from Valencia called Paco who played it. It was the beginning of ecstasy, only a few people were taking it; it was the first time I saw people doing the dancing with that track [mimics acid house type dancing]. I thought, What is this’?

Which tune was it?

‘Music For A Found Harmonium’. I used to play that in a club called Nightlife and every time I played it, the owner came up to me and said, ‘I’m gonna break your fucking penguin record’, because it had penguins on the cover, ‘Next time you play it, I break’, because everyone left the floor every time I played it. And I loved it. I was trying to break it in San Antonio….

I’m assuming they weren’t taking ecstasy in your club!

No, a lot of alcohol.

When was the fist time you saw ecstasy?

Late ’80s.

Did you see Alfredo in Amnesia?

Yes. It was at the beginning of the first acid tracks.

What sort of music was he playing?

He played all over, from Tamla Motown, to rock to whatever.

Why do you think DJs in Ibiza have always played this wide mix of music?

Well, I think it was because we were brought up like that, but also there was not much choice. Now you can specialise in Detroit techno or deep house or whatever, then you had to play with what you have. We had to play so many hours we have to play different tracks to make the session happen. I think that’s where it’s coming from, really. It’s not because in Ibiza we like to play like that. We have to play Talk Talk, we have to play Belgian beat, we have to play rock, we have to play reggae, because we have to fill the space of so many hours.

Do you think that the fact there are lots of tourists and foreign workers affects how music was played or perceived?

Well there was no English DJs in the ’80s, there was just one American in Ku and that was it. All the DJs were locals. Of course English people used to bring records. You’d say, ‘Oh next time you come bring me a few tunes’. So of course we got influenced by them. We knew some English groups because of records being brought over.

  In Ibiza we have to play Talk Talk, we have to play Belgian beat, we have to play reggae, because we have to fill the space of so many hours.

Trevor Fung said he would bring records over and sell them to the DJs.

Yeah. I bought a few records from Trevor, yes. But that was late in the ’80s.

So how did your bar go? Now you could play Penguin Café Orchestra without getting threatened with the sack!

Yes! I could play anything I want. I was playing more experimental, more jazzy, more quality, bossa nova… It was my baby.

Was it like Del Mar, lots of people outside etc?

Yes. It was a very nice environment, a big garden, 500 square metres, sculptures, trees, fountain. It held 400-500. But it went wrong, we were three partners, one of them shot himself inside the bar. That was it, then. Heavy shit. We did very well in the summer, then he wanted to open in the winter, but there is nobody there in Cala Vedella, only the drunk people. We didn’t make any money. I said, ‘Look Frank what are we doing opening in the winter?’ He was a manic depressive and he shot himself. I tried to keep it going for another year but when you’ve got the blood spots in your bar… And he left me with all the bills!

How did the Café Del Mar gig come about?

After the café went down I stopped DJing and started to sell tapes on the hippie market. I was doing my own tapes at home of reggae, soul, whatever. Different styles. I made 20 or 30 of them with nice artwork from a painter friend of mine. First day I went I sell all of them. Next day I did double. I sold them all again. Fuck! I bought another tape machine. Then I speak Alfredo, Pippi, Cesar de Molero, I say, ‘Look I got this business in the market, if you make me a master, I’ll give you percentage or pay you for the master.’

Really?

So I came home with £3,000! I was sitting on my sofa, with eight machines – boom boom [mimics punching record buttons]. When I was tired my girlfriend would take over. This was 1989. Then people start to copy me. They’d actually buy the tapes from me and make copies of my tapes! It’s a big market. That year there was about 10 of them. Then the police start to come. I did that for two years. Then the Café Del Mar guys, who I knew, because I used to live behind it, they said, ‘Look if you want to DJ here…’

Who were the owners of Café del Mar?

Pepe, Ramon and Carlos. I started to DJ there. I start to sell tapes. I was selling 100 tapes a day. The wages were like £500 a month. I was working six days a week. I thought I have to do this legally so I came to London and offered it to all the big companies and nothing happened, so I forgot about it for a few years until I saw a friend from Logic, Ceela, he said, ‘I’ve got these friends from React and they’re interested.’ That’s how I did it. First one came out in 1992, I think. When I start to do the CDs I came here for the winter, living in London for three years and two years in Nottingham, and DJing around the country.

They sold a lot didn’t they?

First one sold 8,000, second one 30,000. The fifth one sold half a million. The Best Of did over a million. We’ve done between three and four million worldwide now. But I’ve been in a court case with React for four years, over the trademark for the name.

What’s it been like watching Ibiza change over the years?

Actually I’m moving from Ibiza. Ibiza, to me, doesn’t mean anything any more. It’s for young kids. I’ve been there 30 years nearly. It’s a very unreal place. Go, go, go, party, party. Commercial. There’s not too many places you can hang out. It’s too fast. Maybe it’s because I’m older or because I’ve changed. Everything is so business-oriented now, there is no spirit or goodwill. It’s a big industry. It’s a big factory. That’s the fucking reality. There are still good DJs there and still some great sets. That doesn’t mean it’s crap, but that’s the way I feel.

In a way, it’s the fault of Spanish businessmen being greedy, isn’t it?

Yes. Every year there is a big guy, this year it’s Timo Maas. He’s a brilliant DJ, but it’s not me. I prefer to play in Precious Hall in Sapporo, proper fucking club, underground, brilliant sound system, 400-500 beautiful people, play for eight or nine hours, that’s where I want to go. I want to have fun and in Ibiza I cannot have fun. Too many chemicals. I think it affects the spirit of the music.

What about all the weird parties on the island like Freddy Mercury’s famous birthday?

Still happens. I went to a few. You know what happened with Freddy Mercury, I think his 40th birthday, there was no people. There was supposed to be a jet coming from England with all his friends on but for some reason they don’t come. So we send people on the street and say, ‘You want to come to Freddy Mercury party?’ ‘Oh yes!’ ‘Well you have to bring people with you!’

© DJhistory.com

CAFÉ MAMBO 20

VANGELIS – Love Theme From Blade Runner

ENNIO MORRICONE – Deborah’s Theme

ART OF NOISE – Moments in Love

SANTANA – Aqua Marine

WIM MERTENS – Struggle For Pleasure

JOAQUIN RODRIGO – Concierto de Aranjuez

CAMARÓN DE LA ISLA – Nana del Caballo Blanco

STAN GETZ WITH JOAO & ASTRUD GILBERTO – The Girl from Ipanema

AUDIO DELUXE – 60 Seconds

BASSHEADS – All Over The World

PACO DE LUCIA – Entre Dos Aguas.

LEFTFIELD – Fanfare Of Life

DJ SASHA – A Heavenly Trance

MARVIN GAYE – A Funky Space Reincarnation

PROPAGANDA – Dream Within A Dream

WALLY BADAROU – Mambo

PENGUIN CAFE ORCHESTRA – Music for A Found Harmonium

JOHN MARTYN – Sunshine’s Better (Talvin Singh Mix)

SILENT POETS – Moment Scale

SABRES OF PARADISE – Smokebelch II (Beatless Mix)

Compiled by José Padilla