The sun has come out at last and this tune takes me back to the dancefloors of Ibiza where I wangled my way on work freebies a few times in the early ’90s.

My first trip was to the White Island was to track down Kylie for some reason I forget now; it was easy to find her in the pool at Pikes.

But once the working day was done, and I’d visited the beach at El Cavallet with Evening Standard photographer Alison McDougall, I don’t think I was prepared for the scale of those clubs like Manumission, Pacha, Amnesia and Space.

Vast barns filled with package holidaymakers off their tits, and the biggest sound systems I’d ever seen, playing music I’d never heard before at phenomenal volume.

This thinly veiled (if at all) hymn to the joys of Ecstasy had already topped the dance charts two or three years before its mainstream release took it to No.1 in the pop charts early in 1995.

Its concoction of junglist breakbeats and ravey keyboards pitches it somewhere between house, garage and techno – and therefore guaranteed to appeal to just about everyone.

The vocals are by Dee Fearon, the wife of Phil Fearon, former lead singer of ’80s band Galaxy, and the tune was voted the best dance song of all time by listeners of Kiss FM.