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Guilty Pleasures seduction at Es Paradis

With smiles gleaming from cheek to cheek, no one was feeling guilty about indulging in the best pop classics.

Ibiza is well-known for its all night techno and house marathons, but sometimes after consecutive nights of booming beats you need to take a musical break. Enter Guilty Pleasures. One of London's brashest and cheekiest parties, it has transplanted itself over to San Antonio's Es Paradis for a summer of pop anthems that you secretly love.

I made my way over and it was a jolly good time, to say the least. From the music to the performers to the crowd, Guilty Pleasures was a home run. With a bit of my own narrated thoughts from the night, here's what went down:

At 1:00 the club was relatively calm. People were sitting down along the tall columns in the centre of Es Paradis's pyramid like structure. The music sounded like some standard lounge music.

Did I miss something? Where are the pop jams I was promised?

A large lady in a sparkly red dress – who I've come to learn is actually Britain's Got Talent contestant and drag act Ruby Murry – then made her way onto the stage, with two dancers by her side. The room went quiet before the opening chords to Diana Ross's 1980 classic I'm Coming Out suddenly tuned in. In splendid fashion, the lady in the red dress started going to work singing the vocals to kick off the night. The clubbers started getting on their feet and moving.

Ah here we go, now we're getting the gears going.

Ruby Murry made her way off the stage as the DJ transitioned into Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch's Good Vibrations. It was clear at this point that everyone in the club was beginning to feel those vibrations as everyone sheepishly grinned while moving along. In a moment, the DJ mixes in what can only be the abrupt opening synths to Justin Timberlake's SexyBack.

Hold up, did he really just turn this one on? Am I in grade school again? Oh yeah, I'm in for a ride tonight and it is definitely going to be a good one.

The club began to pick up now as the lower centre circle of Es Paradis flooded with attendees getting into their groove. The music was only getting better as the original version of Robin S's Show Me Love started to echo throughout the room. I felt that this could not get better until…


Yes, in fact, he did. The Black Eyed Peas's 2005 sensation was the hammer that put the nail in the coffin. Any sense of guilt that was felt from enjoying these tunes were gone as the whole club completely indulged in mid-2000s pop goodness.

Without warning, the music began to quiet down again as the dancing lights shifted the focus away from the glimmering disco balls and back towards the stage. A drag queen came out, and in a spur of the moment started lip syncing and dancing to It's Raining Men by The Weather Girls.

The engaged crowd belched along recording videos of the show. As the spectacular performance ended, clubbers were invited to get on the stage and boogie together. It is here that everyone met an older man, well into his 70s who was easily the life and soul of Es Paradis, a man who some would call “differently young.” Everyone shared his infectious energy as Stardust's Music Sounds Better With You sounds off.

This man is my spirit animal. I hope I can party my way into clubber's hearts the way this man has when I am his age.

Then it happened: the song that I'd been waiting for and had heard on American radio for the last year came on. The good ol' Justin Bieber and his radio knockout What Do You Mean?

OH SNAP! J. BIEBS?! DJ, good sir, you have found my guiltiest pleasure and I submit to your playlist of viral sing-a-long pop music.

The man behind the decks had found the song that I hate to admit I love, but I wasn't prepared for him to play the Bloodhound Gang's The Bad Touch.

Man, this one isn't even a guilty pleasure; it's my straight up jam. Let's all get down and dirty and “do it like they do on the discovery channel” right now.

As radio jams from the past three decades continued to hoot around the club, the night was rounded out with Queen's We Are The Champions, to which everyone belted out together in unison.


Whigfield's Saturday, a song I only just learned about, then played and everyone did some Macarena-type line dance on stage to which I had not a clue how to do.

Yeah, evidently I don't know this one. I'm tired, it's time to go home.

To say the night was fun would be an understatement. Going in without expectations since I only had a vague idea of what to expect, I found that Guilty Pleasures turned out to be the most pleasant of surprises.

When I need to give my ears a break from the thumping bass of tech, you can bet that I'll be at Es Paradis, singing away to some 90s pop bangers, for a guaranteed blast.

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