We Hereby Declare Marco Carola the Maestro of Music On

It's 4 AM at Amnesia Ibiza.

Friday night has transitioned into the break of morning. Energetic, minimal techno shakes the club's walls to their very foundation. While watching intently from the Terrace balcony, I realize I may as well be at the symphony. All I need are a pair of compact opera binoculars, because down in the DJ booth, the Maestro has taken his stage.

I encounter a fellow North American well into the beat. This is her fourth trip to the island for the party in the last two months. "My company thinks it's so fucking ridiculous how I go to Europe every other weekend," she says. "So I have made up this fake boyfriend that flies me out here all the time. And I have to go into details with the girls at the office about my relationship with a guy that doesn't even exist."

Looking around at the composite of stripped-back decor, a dedicated full house and waving Italian flags, I ask with a sly grin if I can take a guess at what her invented European beau's name might be.

"No. They all know about Marco. So I had to use another…"

If you haven't figured it out by now, we're at Music On and here for one man: Marco Carola. As my first-timer colleague and I will soon discover, the enthusiasm for the Napoli techno deity is one shared by most of the 5,000 plus partiers in Amnesia.

Music On is Marco's vision of clubbing. It's his choice, what he wants. There is no festivity on the island so pure in its execution. Or where an assortment of new talent is crossed with artists who've been in Ibiza even longer than Marco; some of the people made that scene the way it is today. Those names responsible for techno history like Carl Cox, Stacey Pullen and in past years Jeff Mills.

Although Music On is a label in its origins, Marco has little desire to create a family or a group of other people producing. That's not him. The most important thing is the music. Music he believes is good quality. That is the concept.

Marco isn't pursuing DJs or producers who are in it because it's a trend or that they want to make money. He wants talented artists, who give everything to music. That feel it. Because when you feel the music, it's different. It may not be easy to catch, but it's special.

Some artists forget what being a DJ is about. It's not simply a performance or being commercial or just acting out. It's also about their method of playing and making the party happen without compromising themselves and their integrity. So Marco actually listens to everyone he invites. He may wait for a feeling of good reaction, but once he gets it, it's fair game. This is where Music On's exceptional lineup is curated from.

Passion can be glimpsed at all corners of the room. As we approach the upstairs bar, I run across someone in a custom Marco t-shirt. He sneakily stuffs a Music On coaster into his pocket. "No glass shall ever touch this unless it's a $50,000 dollar bottle of Italian-imported champagne," he says with a wink.

I get it. Marco is capable of elevating techno to a place where it's hard to return from. After hearing his fierce delays and thudding reverb build-ups, how could you come back? Especially when followed by drops that have been accurately described as machine gun-like.

My associate pulls out his mobile to Shazam the electronic harmony at hand. I break it to him that there is little point. In all the occasions I have seen Marco play, that trick has rarely worked. I also remark how I've yet to hear him repeat a single track. Ever.

Not even when he packs up shop at Music On and then goes to perform at an after-party for another six hours. That's what happens when you listen to 1,500-2,000 new selections a week like the man does. Fresh material—including promos and functional edits he's made—accounts for about 90% of what he plays.

For Marco, it isn't about genre. It's about a feeling communicated through electronic music. He's reluctant to even classify his own sound. It varies from funky and tough to percussively rhythmic to rolling and hypnotic. Industrial hip-house vocals have also been contributing a more prevalent role over the years. His marathon journeys at Amnesia and beyond typify that range.

What Marco cares about more is looking for a lively and active kind of instrumentation. But he can't go deep into himself and put a label on it. He'd rather just conduct it. This is why I call him Maestro. A title of respect.

His fans are certainly a devoted bunch. Take the gentleman who snatched my prime spot on the balcony, for example. He's all too happy to share that he has some new Music On artwork hanging in his Florence home. "Must be a nice poster," I assure him. But I stand corrected. I'm told it's in fact a painted mural he had commissioned months ago from a top local illustrator. A true showpiece.

And why not? Music On is more than just a name. It's a style of declaration. The logo is one meant to be interpreted in different ways. You can put anything inside it, much like the party's branding efforts often do. This provides for a lot of expression. As soon as Marco saw it, he knew it was right.

Sunrise begins to seep through the Terrace's glass skylight. The room is as full as it was at peak hour and the energy levels have only accelerated. My acquaintance looks at the floor and remarks that, "It's a zoo!"

"No," I correct him. "Animals are kept confined in the zoo. That down there is a jungle. Free roam." I take him by the shoulder and lead us right down into it.

Throughout the whole evening and across all the zealots we've met, I have been holding back one important fact to my pal: I'm as intense a Marco Carola devotee as any of them. And right now, there is no place I want to be more than on the floor until the end with the rest of the wildlife.

Nowhere in Ibiza compares to Music On in the early hours. It's fast risen to be considered an island rite of passage. One where Amnesia is slammed until the very last track with people hanging off the walls. Famous faces too. Literally. And Marco is the only performer the club will stay open as late as noon for, as is the case with Music On's infamous closing parties.

In getting his first taste of it, my workmate finally confides, "You were right. This is the best party I've been to in my life."

I can only nod. There is nothing quite like the Music On experience, whether you're a return visitor or getting to share someone else's breakthrough introduction to the brand.

10 AM hits and daylight now pours through the ceiling. Marco shows no signs of slowing down. But that's not a problem right now since, as he would say, it's all about the music.

So play on, Maestro. Play on.

You can follow Christopher on Twitter and Instagram at: @theCMprogram