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I was walking past Pacha when I saw her: a dancer illuminated by the golden hue of a streetlamp. She was alone, but her movements told a story of a thousand nights, of sweat, strobe lights, and beats that made the heart race. Her steps were small and measured, almost like she was practicing in secret for some grand moment inside. I couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t just moving to music—I thought she was the music.
Back at my hotel room, I couldn’t sleep. The image of that dancer stayed with me, and the rhythm of the streetlamp's faint buzz started forming a melody in my mind. “Back to the Glow” wasn’t just about clubbing; it became a metaphor for chasing a moment, a feeling so luminous that you can’t help but want to live it again and again.
The lyrics practically wrote themselves: “Feel the surge, let the energy flow,” came from imagining her glowing energy spreading to the crowd. “Every step we take ignites the night,” was inspired by the way a burning light seemed to wrap around her in the dark.
The "glow" wasn’t just hers—it was what the dancefloor gave to everyone lucky enough to find their place in it. And that’s the magic of Ibiza: even if the night ends, the glow lingers.