Sven Väth: Frankfurt and Ibiza

On the one hand, the Frankfurt DJ uncovered an unusually wide spectrum of music. On the other, he also shaped the scene as a label maker, club manager, and event organizer. The island of Ibiza has a special meaning for Väth. 

For over 20 years, Väth has been hosting his own parties on Ibiza. Väth has now been visiting the island as a guest for over 40 years.

What did the Ibiza of 1980 spark in Väth when he was a teenager? How did the unique atmosphere on the island inspire him to get creative himself as a DJ, producer, and singer? How did Väth bring the spirit of the island into the mainstream, then later bring the sound of Frankfurt back to Ibiza?

"The girls had a hippie-chic style. In the early 1980s, there was a lot of patchouli and marijuana in the air. There were bowls of mescaline. The girls wore revealing clothing and the boys wore long dreads and had handlebar mustaches, they sat in the corner of the room and often played bongos and congas. I was still under 20 years old. I was there at 16, 17, 18, to experience that when you're still so young and pure, for me it was a truly amazing kick."

"It totally invigorated me. It infected me. It also fueled my passion. So I had the idea, the vision, the dream of taking it back with me to Frankfurt and transforming it into music. I produced Electrica Salsa for Ibiza. I desperately wanted the song to be played there."

On his first trip to Ibiza aged 16, Väth stayed there for 3 months. "I called my mother and she said: 'Are you OK, have you got everything you need?' I told her: 'Yes, mom, I'm fine. I'm being looked after.' My mother gave me a lot of independence even when I was younger. She let me do it and I very much appreciate her for it.

Even when I came back from Ibiza and she looked me over and said 'You look completely dazed! What happened over there, honey?' I then told her everything and at some point she said to me: 'I think you want to be a disc jockey.'

I couldn't think of anything else to say. I just told her: 'Yes, mom, that's right, I'd really like to be a disc jockey.' 'Yes, then get started here with us right now,' she said. My mother opened a small club in Neu-Isenburg, the Queen's Pub.

That was in 1979. It really ruffled my dad's feathers that I was DJing there. I wasn't even 18 yet. But my mother was able to win him over, and I was able to as well. My mother stood behind the bar and I stood behind the DJ desk. Then I threw some records on the table. And the rest is history.

My father was a master painter and a keen dancer. He danced at rock 'n' roll shows with my mother. They later realized their dream of building their own disco. My father even did it all himself—every single brick, every bit of carpentry, he built and did it all. When I look back today, my parents showed me that it's possible to follow your passion.

I also had a go at things because I was inspired by Ibiza, of course. I went to record stores, searched and searched and found great music that I couldn't even play at all with my parents in the pub. Thriller [by Michael Jackson] had just been released.

My sets went from disco to Grandmaster Flash and Culture Club to Haysi Fantayzee and everything that was current at the time, mixed with a few oldies. Last Night a DJ Saved My Life was the track my mother sung along to. It was really awesome. and gave me another boost about the whole situation.

After I'd DJ'd at my parents' club, I'd still always go to Dorian Gray on Saturdays. I even spent the whole night on the dance floor. My parents' club would always close at 01:00 AM. I also did an incredible amount of promotion there. I told people about my experiences in Ibiza and just how much it changed me.

I told people that we had to go to Ibiza to the opening parties, to Amnesia and Ku. And I was also bringing quite a lot of our Frankfurt sound with me to Ibiza. In the 1980s, I'd sit down around midday in Dorian Gray or Vogue and record tapes, and I took about 50 cassette tapes with me to the old town in Ibiza and supplied them to all the bars.

In 1981, Ulli Brenner, the current resident DJ in the small club in Dorian Gray, talked to me. He'd watched me on the dance floor and seen how I'd create a buzz for hours on end. Then he asked me whether I could fill in for him one time, if I was able to DJ. I said: 'Yeah, of course I can DJ.'

And that was my gateway in. He then went on vacation, and I took over the small club and apparently left a great impression. (laugh) Anyway, the manager talked to me and said: 'Don't you want to start here permanently?' So I then had a permanent position in the small club in Dorian Gray.

I was DJing there four days a week. Then there were the special events, fashion shows, Formula One parties, Playboy parties. You often had to be there at midday as well. 

At the time, each club had its own repertoire, its own record collection. You went through it and put together your evening program. A lot of old music was played as well, a lot of disco, especially in the small club. It was different in the big club. It was a lot more experimental there. Michael Münzing and Bijan Blum were playing around that time. But they were all Ibiza fans as well! Ibiza inspired a lot of DJs at the time.

Luckily I also got to meet some cool people through Dorian Gray who were happy to experiment. I met with them in the middle of the day to mess around with drum machines. We just wanted to be there. Dorian Gray was our playground. It was an insane establishment with amazing technical equipment like Studio 54 or Paradise Garage. It really motivated us to do our own thing.

We took baby steps and got ever closer to our first production. Then we managed it in 1985. There was also some experimenting going on at the same time in Chicago and Detroit where DJs were attempting to produce DJ music. We tried doing the same and were even successful in a relatively short space of time. This in turn inspired other DJs, and things took off the same way in Ibiza. That was in the mid 1980s, when DJs with big dreams and a lot of passion helped to once again redefine dance music.

I ended up becoming a singer on a whim. We were in the studio. I started to pick up the mic a few times and say a few lines. I actually did it because I wanted to say a few things when the mood struck me. I wanted to tell stories, fantasy stories. That was the case back then with Luca Anzilotti and Michael Münzing in the 1980s.

I was later headhunted by Vogue. That was in 1984, I believe. In 1986, I was coaxed away again by Dorian Gray and became a resident DJ in the big club. At the time the Belgian sound was also kicking off—the new beat. I think our music was a mix of new beat and techno for the first few hours. With a sprinkling of pop of course.

Creating this connection, taking people on a journey, telling a story through music with a dose of humor… It can also be more heavy, more psychedelic, even hypnotic. For me, seeing it from the perspective of a dancer was always important. 

When the DJ kept me glued to the dance floor, when he didn't let me stray away from the dance floor at all, it carried me away. With my selection of music I wanted a certain energy to take hold—this feeling of unity with a dash of love and passion. 

At the start of 1988, it was very extreme. I changed Dorian Gray around entirely, [the industrial techno of] Front 242 played there, Nitzer Ebb performed live as well as Skinny Puppy. Even today I'm still a huge fan of Adrian Sherwood. All the industrial music by à;GRUMH… from A Split Second and Severed Head to The Clinic, I made it socially acceptable.

Suddenly everyone was wearing just black and arriving in Dr. Martens. (smiles) At some point I became aware that, woah, what's going on here is really badass. I already had the idea in the back of my mind that I'd like to do my own thing. Together with two of my friends, who later became my partners, we offered to buy Vogue.

It took a little while, but we reached a deal. I quit Dorian Gray and told them that I needed to take a short artistic hiatus. 

I also wanted to disengage a little musically from the whole industrial sound. Right then was the era of house music, and especially acid house music. I wanted to put more house into my sets in general. 

Then I took a longer hiatus—almost six months. We renovated Vogue during this time. I put the name Omen to use. We ripped everything out of Vogue and had Omen set up there with the help of our friend Amir Abadi. He was the architect behind the whole thing. Then in 1988, I think it was October 18, we opened the doors to Omen.

Together with my friends, we had the vision of doing something all our own. Somehow I felt that the time was right. I was 24. I'd just turned 17 when I started out as a DJ. At 22, I was a pop star with Electric Salsa and killed it with my gala shows, sung at the Arena di Verona in Italy, and got to meet some incredibly amazing people. But I'd only ever worked as a DJ in Frankfurt. That changed in 1988 when I had my first booking in London.

Omen was intended to be a fresh establishment, not dark like Dorian Gray. It also delivered hip-hop. Then came Snap! with The Power, that was by my partner Michael Münzing. Then came R&S, NuGroove, the labels from Detroit and Chicago, Strictly Rhythm, and so on.

For me it was a sign to say that we're switching to strictly techno and house music in Omen. That was in 1989. I had my own evening on Fridays. For Saturdays I brought in Dag, and Dag did his Saturdays. 

My vision became flesh and blood. The people felt it and were there and were all part of it. That was a very intense and extravagant time. There were no limits—we gave it our all. We were dripping with sweat. 

Richie Hawtin had his first residency in Europe in Omen. Jeff Mills played here at least four times a year for sure. I was getting more and more international bookings. But I always made sure I was there on Fridays. 

In 1998, I sat down with my partners and told them: 'I think we should close Omen now.' The parking garage where the club was based was putting us under pressure one way or the other. Sooner or later, they wouldn't want to extend our contract anymore. So I pulled the plug. It was also a change. It finally paved the way for our Cocoon vision. For me, change was always welcome, and always brought new beginnings.

The first Cocoon party took place in 1996 with Underworld live at the Union Brauerei on Hanauer Landstrasse [in Frankfurt]. Before that I was in Berlin at the Tempodrom at a La Fura dels Baus event—they're an action theater from Catalonia. I saw one of their shows and it was about metamorphosis.

That's where the name Cocoon came from. It made a lasting impression on me. Because there was no more club and no more labels, I was already at the point of reinventing myself. India and what I experienced there resonated with me, as well as the Love Parade and the musical changes. I was actually already looking forward to creating something new again.

And in the nineties, Ibiza didn't interest me at all anymore. I was exploring India. At the time, Ibiza didn't inspire me at all anymore. At the end of the nineties, I played at a Bugged Out party in Amnesia and Space approached me. I then played a lot of opening and closing parties in Space.

That was until the son of the owner of Amnesia, Martí [Ferrer], asked me if he could see me sometime. So we had a meeting, and they offered me an evening there. That was in 1999. I thought it over: 'Now it's your turn. Now you have to make some changes here, or you'll never be coming back!'

So in 1999 we ran four experiments in Amnesia with our own self-organized Cocoon party. I didn't go straight into a full season because I knew it was already a huge venture financially. Naturally I wanted to find out how the event was actually received first. We had a lot of fun over the first two years. It was experimental through and through.

Our guests were mostly German at the beginning. Then the Spanish discovered us. Techno was also kicking off in Spain at this point. They were our first true supporters on the island, and they all came. It created a unique dynamic. 

Word also spread that we held our unannounced after-hour parties on the spur of the moment. We went to the beach guerrilla-style, hastily agreed something with the beach operators, set up a system, and got started. It was legendary. No other promoter was doing it. Free beach parties for decades.

To this day we've had the widest variety of nations on the dance floor at Cocoon. There are quite a few parties on Ibiza, you know, with just Italians or just the English. For me, Ibiza is and always has been a colorful melting pot. Music lovers, ravers, artists, and flamboyant partygoers all meet there.

I've known the island since 1980. I've really taken the island to heart. It's a part of me. I've uncovered so much inspiration here, I've lived it up here, and that's why I've been able to give so much back.