I LOVE THE SUMMER in so many ways that my son doesn't.  He shrinks at the brightness of the light, heading for the sanctuary of an airless room, while I expose my pale British legs to the available UV or suffer hours in queuing traffic to get brief respite at the coast.  Today is the second day of August and last night the sky somehow seemed so much darker, despite the wonderful illumination of a rare 'blue moon' (not to be seen for another three years, apparently).  The Sunday newspaper reminds me that that Edinburgh Festival will soon bookend a summer that started with Flowers in Chelsea and crammed in the delights of Glastonbury and Cornbury and Latitude, where designer wellies outsell sun-hats.  Folk music, unlistenable for eleven months of the year, becomes tolerable for a few weeks in the sticks while barbecues get washed in the drizzle.  But no fields full of music for me.  I've just returned from back to back trips to events in Scotland and Geneva: a busy summer leading workshops, talking to 'Next Generation' clients and their parents about the future and planning more from WYA Ltd for 2016.  Away from the machinations of work in Italy, I did devour Season Five of Game of Thrones, read The Martian (which looks like an intriguing film too with Matt Damon), read The Girl With All The Gifts and re-read The Thril of It All [again] (so good I have started buying people copies), discovered Everything Everything, been overwhelmed by a wonderful new The Maccabees album, a teaser EP from Elbow and been blown away by Pete Tong's curation of the BBC Prom's Ibiza night.  If you have not seen it, its pretty incredible: particularly via BBC iPlayer, where you get an amazing take on Faithless.  See it here.

I heared today from a friend who is holidaying on the White Island.  I have never been.  The nearest I've been to Ibiza was through the impulsive purchase of a 4 Disc CD compilation a few years ago of what can be best described as some "monster banging tunes", few of which ducked under 8 minutes long.  I know nothing of the heritage, innovators, hierarchies or genius (or otherwise) of Dance Music, the creators of Ibiza Anthems or the "rock-star DJ's" who fly from venue to venue across the summer on ego fuelled private jets.  Please then ignore the tone of the previous sentence...I have no qualifications to pass any credible judgement, but I did love the BBC Proms take on Dance Music and these two guys called Jake and Mick who perform as the Showhawk Duo. You can see them in the link here to Nick Grimshaw's show doing something rather remarkable.  

I love the summer because there is often that one song.  Sometimes called an 'ear-worm'.  You hear it in a cafe, or on the car radio and absently 'Shazam' it and then hear it again and then again and before you know...it has you hooked.  Gotye did it a couple of years ago.  Something called "Fireflies" bugged me for weeks.  In 2015 it is Wankelmut and Emma Louise: 'My Head is a Jungle".  Its hypnotically good.  There is a remix from someone called "MK", which ups the ante to 8 1/2 minutes, but the original is sparkling and lovely and over-played on my cans. Recommended. Meanwhile I flick through newspapers, printed at this time of the year without news, look out for weather reports that under-promise and over-deliver and stare out at the sea, with this song in my head.  Enjoy. 

Even better is the MK remix, or Google his version from Ibiza live in 2015.   Watch the man let it lift off.