From Cream Liverpool and Space Ibiza to NuNorthern Soul and Hostal La Torre, Phat Phil Cooper reflects on three decades of music, friendships, sunsets and unforgettable moments on the White Isle.

Few figures in dance music have experienced Ibiza from as many angles as Phat Phil Cooper.

Over the last three decades, Cooper has quietly carved out a unique place within electronic music culture, building a reputation not through hype or headlines, but through an unwavering dedication to great music and the communities that form around it. From the explosive rise of Cream in the 1990s to sunset sessions on Ibiza’s rugged western coastline, his journey has mirrored many of the defining moments in modern club culture.

While many know him today as the founder of the much-loved NuNorthern Soul label, Cooper’s story stretches far beyond record releases. DJ, curator, label manager, record shop owner, talent spotter, radio host and musical ambassador are just some of the roles he has embraced along the way. Whether behind the decks at Space, Amnesia, Café Mambo or Hostal La Torre, helping shape the musical identity of Bali’s celebrated Potato Head Beach Club, or championing emerging artists through his labels, Cooper has spent a lifetime connecting people through music.

What makes his story particularly compelling is that it has unfolded largely away from the spotlight. Yet time and again his path has crossed with some of dance music’s most influential figures, from Jose Padilla and DJ Sneak to Carl Cox, Steve Lawler and Paul Oakenfold. Along the way he has witnessed Ibiza evolve from a free-spirited clubbing paradise into a global lifestyle destination, all while remaining fiercely committed to the Balearic values that first drew him to the island.

As Phil marks 30 years in Ibiza, Knights Of The Turntable sat down with him to reflect on a remarkable journey through music, memories and the people who helped shape it. Accompanied by a collection of personal photographs from his archive, this is the story of a life lived through records, dancefloors and sunsets.

Firstly, thanks to Phil for agreeing to be part of this feature. Having spent time looking through his photographs and revisiting previous interviews, we wanted this piece to focus less on the labels, releases and industry side of his career, and more on the memories, people, places and moments that have shaped his remarkable 30-year relationship with Ibiza.

Many of the questions below have been inspired directly by the images you kindly shared with us.

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Chapter 1: Finding Ibiza

 

Ibiza has always had a way of drawing people back. For Phil, what began as a holiday with friends in 1991 would eventually become a lifelong relationship with the island, its music and its culture.

Thirty years in Ibiza is a remarkable milestone. Looking back, can you remember your very first trip to the island and what made such a lasting impression?

Thirty years DJing in Ibiza, but I had been coming here before that as a tourist. My first trip was in 1991 with a bunch of mates. We stayed in San Antonio Bay, went to Café del Mar every evening for sunset, and did the club trips to Es Paradis, Pacha and KU, as it was known then.

I was hearing records in completely different environments, in a different frame of mind and under all the right influences. Everything just sparked and fizzed with the right energy. I felt genuinely free and unrestricted as a person, probably for the first time. That feeling stayed with me.

You have spoken before about discovering the magic of Café Del Mar and José Padilla in the early 1990s. Looking back now, what was it about that era that felt so special?

It was the uniqueness of it. At the time, I did not realise it was everything I needed in my life, but it was. Seeing somebody marry music to a sunset in such a considered, natural and unforced way was a real revelation.

José was not just playing records while the sun went down. He was creating a soundtrack for a moment, a place and a feeling. Those musical moments still resonate with me now.

Many people arrive in Ibiza with dreams of staying forever. At what point did you realise the island had become home rather than simply a place you visited?

I sometimes think the island knew before I did. I have always felt that Ibiza chooses you rather than the other way round.

Over the years, I realised that I was not just visiting or passing through anymore. I had built friendships, work, routines and a life here. Ibiza has given me 30 years of DJing opportunities, but I have also found other meaningful ways to contribute and work on the island. I have never really felt as though I was searching for a reason to be here.

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Chapter 2: Cream, Clubs & The Golden Years

 

For many clubbers, the mid to late 1990s represented Ibiza at its most influential. It was an era of packed terraces, sunrise finishes and lifelong friendships, where nights at Cream, Space and Café Mambo became part of dance music folklore. For Phat Phil Cooper, it wasn’t history in the making, it was simply life. Three decades on, those memories remain as vivid as ever.

Looking through the photographs you’ve shared with us, is there one image that instantly transports you back to a specific moment or feeling?

The photograph Andy Carroll took of me, Doc Martin and Mark Broadbent on the Amnesia terrace always takes me straight back to that period. Amnesia was our playground. Playing there every week was a real privilege, especially because we were given so much freedom with the music.

There is also a photo of me with Paul Oakenfold in the booth at Amnesia. Halfway through that summer I told him that, if I got the chance to close the terrace at the end of the season, I was going to play The Beatles’ “With A Little Help From My Friends”.

I did get the closing set. Oakie came into the booth to remind me of what I had said. I played it, and the packed terrace sang every word back. It was one of those proper heartfelt moments, about the friends and family I had connected with over that summer.

The Cream years helped shape a generation of clubbers. What do you remember most about being part of that movement at its peak?

The opportunities it gave me, but more than anything the lifelong friends and family I made through it. Those connections are still very much part of my life now.

Once my name appeared on Cream flyers, I would send mixtapes, bundles of flyers and a bio to clubs and promoters all over the world. There was no emailing a link or pressing send. It was padded envelopes, post offices and hoping someone at the other end actually listened to the tape.

We’ve seen photographs from the early days of Café Mambo, Space and Amnesia. Did it feel historic while you were living it, or is that something you’ve only appreciated with hindsight?

Not really. At the time it was just life, being in the right place at the right moment and trying to make the most of it.

There were no camera phones, no social media and no sense that every night had to be documented. I was always into photography, so I did take pictures because I wanted to capture the people and the feeling of those times. I never imagined they would become part of a 30-year story. I am very glad I did it now.

One image that stood out to us was the photograph with DJ Sneak outside Café Mambo in 1996. What memories come flooding back when you see that picture today?

That was around the time DJ Sneak was first coming to play in Ibiza, as I remember it. We connected straight away because we had similar taste in music and I was playing a lot of his records at the time.

We would hang out at the villa or down at Mambo. He got to know the Mambo family and the staff, and that place became a real second home for all of us. We could arrive with records, jump on the decks with the residents, run up silly bar tabs and even have a cheeky siesta on one of the indoor sofas, out of the summer heat.

Everybody knew everybody then. You knew the people behind the bar, the DJs, the staff and the regulars. It was a very easy, open and connected time.

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Chapter 3: The People Along The Way

 

Behind every great DJ journey are the people who help shape it. While Phat Phil Cooper has shared booths and dancefloors with some of electronic music’s biggest names, it’s the friendships, creative partnerships and chance encounters that have left the deepest impression. From José Padilla and the Cream family to lifelong friends made along the way, these are the people who helped define three remarkable decades on the White Isle.

Over the years you’ve shared booths, dancefloors and friendships with some incredible people. Which artists or personalities have had the biggest impact on your journey?

Being brutally honest, I do not think my journey has been shaped by one single person. It has been shaped by lots of people at different points: DJs who inspired me, promoters who trusted me, friends who opened doors, people I worked alongside and audiences who kept turning up.

José Padilla obviously had a huge impact on me because he showed me what music could do when it was connected to a place and a moment. The Cream family gave me a platform and friendships that are still very much part of my life.

Mark Broadbent and his wife Sarah are a big part of that story. We met through the Cream days and have remained lifelong friends ever since. They live round the corner from me now, which still makes me smile after all these years. Mark and Sarah went on to run Space, and they also lived in Australia for a time. I would go over, stay with them and DJ for them at Home nightclub in Sydney. Those friendships have travelled with us through different countries, venues and stages of life, which says a lot.

Jason Bye is another one. He has been part of the island since the early 1990s, and although we might only see each other a few times a year, we always pick up exactly where we left off. There is a hug, a laugh and then we carry on as though no time has passed at all. That is one of the things I value most about the people I have met through Ibiza.

There are also people who continue to inspire and influence me now. George Solar is one of them. His stories from past lives, his experiences and his forward-thinking musical ideas always give me something to think about. He is an artist who looks back with real depth, but is never stuck in the past.

Be Lanuit is another important creative connection. As well as recording for NuNorthern Soul, he has taken the time to work with me in the studio and help me find ways to express some of my own musical ideas. That has opened up a different side of the relationship, beyond simply putting out records, and we are planning to do more together over the winter.

Willie Graff is someone I have known since my early years living here in the 2000s. He is one of those DJs I genuinely enjoy spending time with, whether that is hanging out, listening to him play or simply talking about music. When he comes to join me for the Pikes poolside sessions in summer, it always feels easy and natural because there is a shared musical language there.

There are plenty of other brilliant memories and chance encounters along the way too: DJ Sneak, Doc Martin, Oakenfold, Carl Cox, Steve Lawler and many more. They are all part of the wider story of those years, the booths, dancefloors and summers that helped shape my experience of Ibiza.

But the people who have really stayed with me are the ones connected to friendship, shared values and a genuine love of music. The Balearic side of my journey has always been less about famous names and more about the people, places and moments that continue to feel meaningful decades later.

Your photograph with José Padilla feels particularly significant. What did José mean to you personally, and what do you think people still misunderstand about his contribution to Ibiza’s musical identity?

That photograph was taken in Bali, when I was working at Potato Head as music and events manager. José was over there playing at Karma Kandara, and I managed to work out a deal that meant we could share some of the costs and bring him in to play Potato Head too.

At that time he had told me that Ibiza had become more difficult for him. The work was not as regular as it had once been. When he played for us in Bali, it was a packed sunset and he absolutely smashed it. The photo was taken afterwards, when he was telling me how much he needed a gig like that.

Personally, José meant a great deal because he was one of the first people to show me that music could be used to create a proper emotional connection with a time and place. I think people can sometimes reduce his contribution to a collection of chill-out compilations or a particular era. But what he really gave Ibiza was a musical language for sunset. He helped people understand that eclectic, emotional and leftfield music could hold a crowd just as powerfully as a big club record.

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Chapter 4: Ibiza Then & Now

 

Every generation discovers its own Ibiza. For some, it’s the freedom of sunrise on a dancefloor. For others, it’s a quiet sunset overlooking the Mediterranean. After 30 years on the island, Phat Phil Cooper has witnessed Ibiza reinvent itself time and again. While much has changed, the essence of what first drew him here continues to shine through for those willing to look beyond the obvious.

If somebody had only experienced modern Ibiza, what would surprise them most about the island you first encountered 30 years ago?

Probably the lack of obvious VIP culture. When I first came here and spent long summers on the island, you did not really know who the rich and famous were. Of course famous people existed and were probably looked after in their own ways, but it was not all so visible.

There were not endless tiers of access, tables, wristbands and prices designed to show where you sat on a ladder. The VIP culture was nowhere near as in-your-face as it is now.

There is often debate about whether Ibiza has changed too much. What changes have you welcomed, and what do you miss most from earlier years?

Everything changes. I would be foolish to expect Ibiza to be exactly as it was 30 years ago, and I do not think I should be imposing the musical needs of a 55-year-old man onto people who are here having their own version of Ibiza now.

I do miss some of the ease, spontaneity and closeness of the earlier years. There was less pressure to be seen, less branding around every experience, and perhaps more room for things to unfold naturally.

But my own relationship with Ibiza has changed too. I do not go clubbing in the same way I did, and that is fine. I still get chances to play late-night sets where I can take people on a musical journey. If that makes somebody want to dig deeper into the island’s musical history, then that is a great thing.

You’ve played everywhere from Cream and Space to Potato Head, Pikes and Hostal La Torre. Which venue taught you the most about people, and which taught you the most about music?

I do not think that is really venue-specific. The learning comes from time served, playing in lots of different places, for different people, at different times of day and with completely different expectations.

Every room teaches you something. Some teach you how to read a dancefloor. Some teach you patience. Some teach you about energy, timing, atmosphere and knowing when not to force things. After three decades, that knowledge comes from all of it rather than one particular venue.

Sunset culture remains one of Ibiza’s defining experiences. After all these years, what is it about a great sunset session that still resonates with people?

A good sunset without music can evoke magical feelings. There is something in us that responds to it instinctively. I suppose it goes right back to the dawn of time: if you are watching the sunset, it means you have survived another day without some kind of dinosaur eating you.

Joking aside, nature creating something that beautiful every single day is powerful enough on its own. So being trusted to add music to that moment, and hopefully do it in a way that enhances rather than distracts from it, is a real honour.

Over more than 30 years of DJing, I have been lucky enough to soundtrack a fair few sunsets around the world. I never take that for granted. It is a privilege to be able to call it work, especially when you see people stop talking, turn towards the view and properly take in what is happening around them.

For me, the key is not simply playing what people might describe as “sunset music”. It is about creating an eclectic journey from a no-holds-barred catalogue and finding the right narrative for that particular room, crowd, weather and moment. Sometimes that might be gentle and emotional, sometimes it can be more rhythmic or unexpected. The music has to sit alongside the sunset, not compete with it.

When it works, there is a point where the records, the people, the landscape and the light all seem to become one thing. That is why it still resonates so deeply.

Many DJs become associated with a particular genre, but your career has always been defined by musical freedom. Has that become easier or harder in an era of algorithms and niche genres?

I actually think it may have become easier. People have access to more music than ever through streaming platforms, YouTube, radio and online communities. It is much easier now for someone to discover music from around the world, across multiple genres, and follow their own curiosity.

Algorithms can obviously narrow things down if you let them, but they can also lead people towards music they may never have found otherwise. Ultimately, it still comes down to whether people are open to listening.

You’ve spent much of your career championing other artists, connecting people and helping scenes grow. Do you take pride in that role, or has it simply been a natural extension of your love for music?

I would not say pride so much. It is just something I am good at and genuinely enjoy doing.

I have always liked joining the dots: hearing something great, connecting it with the right people, putting artists in front of an audience or helping somebody find a way forward. Whether that is through DJing, radio, a label or simply introducing people, it all comes from the same place: loving music and wanting to share it.

 

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Chapter 5: Looking Back

 

The final chapter of any journey isn’t about statistics or achievements, but about the memories that stay with us and the impact we leave behind. After 30 years of dancefloors, sunsets, friendships and musical discovery, Phat Phil Cooper reflects on the moments that still make him smile, the lessons Ibiza has taught him and why, after all this time, the next record is still the one he’s most excited to hear.

What are some of the proudest moments from your career that perhaps never made the headlines but remain important to you personally?

A lot of the moments that mean the most are not the obvious ones. They are the times when somebody takes a moment to tell you that a record you played meant something to them, or an artist says that you helped them feel seen or gave their music a platform.

Closing the Amnesia terrace with “With A Little Help From My Friends” is one of those moments. Being trusted to soundtrack sunsets at places such as Mambo, Café del Mar, Hostal La Torre and elsewhere around the world means a huge amount to me too.

Café del Mar was one of the places that first made me understand the power of music and sunset together, so to have played there several times over the years feels particularly special. Mambo also holds a huge place in my heart because of the people, friendships and memories connected to those early years.

But Hostal La Torre is probably the place that best represents where I am now. It is my regular sunset home and still feels untainted in terms of what can be played. It sits on its own up on the cliffs, away from the busier commercial strip, and people make a decision to come there rather than simply passing by. There is no direct competition around it shaping the mood or influencing the music. That gives me the freedom to play a genuinely eclectic set and take people somewhere rather than having to chase an obvious crowd response.

Seeing NuNorthern Soul grow into a home for artists and music I genuinely believe in is another proud moment. The label turns 15 in 2027, which feels quite emotional when I think about everything that has come out of it: the records, the artists, the friendships and the opportunities to connect people through music.

But really, the biggest thing is that I am still here, still working, still discovering music and still able to make a living doing something I genuinely love.

Away from the clubs and events, what has living in Ibiza taught you about life?

It has taught me to appreciate simple things more: the sea, a walk, a good meal, a quiet morning, a sunset, time with friends. It is easy to get caught up in the pace and noise of an Ibiza season, especially when you work in music, but the island constantly reminds you that nature is right there if you make time for it.

It has also taught me that people come and go, seasons change and nothing stays still. You have to be adaptable, grateful and open to whatever chapter you are in.

What keeps you inspired after three decades on the island and more than thirty years in music?

The fact that there is still so much music I have not heard. I still get excited when I discover a record, an artist, a voice or a sound that gives me that feeling.

I am inspired by young artists making brilliant music, by old records I can hear in a new way, and by the challenge of putting songs together in a DJ set and making them tell a story. I am also inspired by the fact that the people in front of me are always different. Every crowd, every room and every sunset gives you a fresh chance to create something.

For somebody visiting Ibiza for the first time in 2026, what would you encourage them to seek out beyond the superclubs and social media hotspots?

Get off the obvious path. Get up early one day, hire a car or get on a bus, go north, find a quieter beach, have a coffee somewhere local, walk somewhere without filming every second of it and give yourself space to take the island in.

The clubs and big venues are part of Ibiza’s story, but they are not the whole story. There are small bars, village restaurants, beaches, walks, markets, live music, local characters and moments of calm that can stay with you just as much as a big night out.

Most importantly, remember that people live and work here all year round. Treat the island with respect and it will give you plenty back.

When people look back on the story of Phat Phil Cooper in years to come, what do you hope your legacy will be?

I hope people remember me as somebody who loved music, shared it generously and helped connect people along the way.

I have never been interested in being the biggest name in the room. I have always wanted to play good records, create the right feeling, champion artists I believe in and make people feel welcome around the music, through the music.

If people remember that I was still curious, still open-minded and that I tried to do things with heart, that would mean a lot.

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Interview by Griff for Knights Of The Turntable. Special thanks to Phat Phil Cooper for sharing his personal archive and memories spanning three decades of Ibiza. Catch Phil’s movements via his socials here and check out his NuNorthern label’s website here.