Finding A Way: In Conversation with The Illusions

“Harry dropped me back at the airport. He asked, ‘What do you think of the band?’ I said, they’re good, but they needed someone to kick their arses. He said: ‘Like a producer?’ I said, yeah, well, you know,” Haines tells us. “So we just started talking; the guys in the meantime began working on the album. Harry said: ‘You’ve got to come over; we’ve got a gig, and then we’ll go into the studio’. Three days rehearsing, do the gig, see what works, then go to the studio. It was like the perfect run of a week. I came in, I heard all of these demos and then we just sort of worked together, wrote a little bit of stuff, took some of the ideas, maybe took two ideas, two songs, made them into one, wrote new bridges, et cetera, et cetera. And then we did the gig and the gig was amazing… we spent three days in a really great studio with a fantastic engineer. Then I took all of that back to New Zealand and spent several months producing it and mixing it, doing more overdubs.”

Ibiza’s lack of infrastructure for live music is something of an open secret if you know the island beyond the lasers and superclub marketing campaigns. But it’s only part of the story. Last month, The Illusions blew crowds away at the six-day Eivissa Jazz Festival. A sprawling showcase of expert acts at the landmark Dalt Villa heritage site, the fact it has now run for 37 years proves just how much demand there is for sounds beyond and to the left of the mainstream beats and bleeps menu. The band themselves are testament to how much talent doesn’t need to be imported.

“All of us, our families listened to a lot of music at home when we were young. Mostly jazz, but a lot of other influences, too. And of course the Balearic music – that sunset lounge sound is a big part of where we are coming from. You could say we studied jazz but also any Black American music, like soul, funk, everything in between,” says Blakstad. “That spirit of freedom, it makes it an easy kind of thing to listen to. Of course, there’s complexity in improvisation, but when you listen to these tunes you don’t need to be any kind of crate digger, or someone always looking for what’s at the vanguard. These are melodies that come from our heart, it’s not overthought. It comes very natural to us.”

“I had my own solo project when I was 18, or something like that. I recorded three albums. Antonio lived in London for many years, where he also studied production. Then we called Franco, the saxophonist, and we’ve been playing together many years. Katana (percussion) moved to Ibiza 20 years ago and used to tour with Kenyan legends. Arturo, the drummer, he’s been on many magazine covers, magazines for drummers. So there’s this beautiful, intergenerational mix,” Navarro adds.

Having first touched down on Ibiza at the age of 17, Charles has also long been aware of an imbalance in the local music scene. A spell living in Western Australia, where “you paid around $10 or whatever, and knew you were going to see great up and coming acts” only emphasised what a thriving grass roots live culture looked like. After moving to Ibiza, the issues facing musicians became more profound. His efforts to establish WOM as a hub for this underserved community have gone some way to making a difference, and the venue’s reputation for this holds fast even now it has been passed on to a new team.

Nevertheless, the landscape today still falls short of the island’s often forgotten musical heritage. Partly due to the models adopted by many successful nightlife operators, and an increasingly uncompromising clampdown on small scale and informal music spaces as policymakers look to prioritise quieter, calmer and less stereotypically hedonistic sides of the tourism economy.

“The authorities have shut down some incredible local bars and local live music venues that maybe didn’t have a licence, but had been doing it for 40 years… At [legendary sunset drum circle beach] Benirras, the drummers are asked to stop. These are seen as parts of the real Ibiza… Creatives first came here because, number one, it was the cheapest of all the Balearic Islands, but also because it felt special; people felt confident sharing new ideas, singing, dancing, and performing. ASo actually, it was predominantly a live music island… then the super club arrived, and it’s never really looked back.”

This reality only makes The Illusions’ story more significant and inspiring. Exceptional musicians with a standout record – so good it was repressed after the first vinyl stock flew out of stores – they also represent a different, largely overlooked side of an island many see as relatively one-dimensional musically. Whether this can catalyse and galvanise wider engagement, interest and participation is anyone’s guess. But there’s a real gem of an album to help spread the word.