This week, Lost in Showbiz invites you on a journey into the past. Let us travel back in time and visit LiS’s own youth, which, it confesses, was largely misspent in a variety of insalubrious locations around the United Kingdom, dancing to SL2’s On a Ragga Tip while under the influence of drugs.

Reader, stare not in that disapproving manner. It wasn’t just about shovelling pills down its neck to the strains of DJs Top Buzz and Nut-E-1. As it slumped in the chill-out rooms of World Dance, Fantazia and Tribal Gathering, exhausted by the effort involved in getting both its eyeballs to point in the same direction and discussing the meaning of life with a bloke it had just met called Gary – who, it later transpired, was funding his ongoing spiritual quest for the truth by stealing cars to order –LiS was convinced it had caught a glimpse of a finer future: more friendly, more pacific, more empathetic. Here, it thought fancifully, lay the true destiny of acid house: to make the world a better place, where humanity would, as the song suggested, live as one family inna sweet harmony.

Of course, these thoughts were foolish and callow and hopelessly wrong. Acid house, it was recently revealed, had a purpose far greater and more important than that: so magnificent, indeed, that LiS could never have imagined it, even in its most pie-eyed and beatific states of transcendence (Seduction all-nighter, Margate Lido, 1992). Dance music has reached its state of Cleared Theta Clear: to provide yet another string to the already groaning bow of the planet’s leading polymath, Paris Hilton.

You may already be aware of the musical career of Paris Hilton, which began with the release of her eponymous 2006 album: LiS heard her version of Rod Stewart’s Do Ya Think I’m Sexy? at the time, but it was sitting up in bed and eating solid food again within a week, so no real harm done. You may even have been aware of her DJing debut at Sao Paulo’s Pop Music Festival. This would be thanks to online comments that suggest it was the biggest disaster to hit Brazil since the War of the Cabanagem, often attached to cameraphone footage that appears to show Hilton not so much DJing as standing around wearing a pair of bejewelled headphones and a gormless expression, occasionally waving a Brazilian flag. At one point, she announces she’s going to sing her new single, Last Night, produced by Dutch DJ Afrojack. She then cues up a Rihanna song and gamely attempts to sing Last Night over the top of that, while a harassed-looking man runs onstage and attempts to correct the situation.

Luckily Hilton has taken to the pages of fabled underground techno journal Hello! magazine to correct any misapprehensions that may have arisen. It offers valuable insights into both her preparations for the show (for which she practised “every day for six to eight hours for the past year”, wearing a gormless expression and occasionally waving a Brazilian flag being a notoriously tricky thing to get exactly right), and her profound love of dance music. Contrary to cruel suggestions that she first became interested in a DJ career when her most recent reality show, The World According To Paris, was cancelled after one series, she informs the journalist that she has “loved dance music for a long time”. “Being in the DJ booth at clubs and festivals has always been one of my favourite things to do – feeling the energy from the crowd is just incredible,” she says, perhaps referring to the 2009 incident when she arrived unbidden in the DJ booth of Steve Angello, demanded that he played some music she liked, then – Angello claimed – got one of her entourage to hit him. “I don’t even know his name,” she said of Angello, one-third of Swedish House Mafia, in fairness a publicity-shy and relentlessly underground dance collective that has only sold 3m tracks, headlined Madison Square Gardens and is about to play to 65,000 people at the Milton Keynes Bowl.

“The fans loved the set and it felt so amazing to be up there,” she comments. Judging by the cameraphone footage, the fans demonstrated their love of the set largely by booing – indeed they give the outward impression of having done everything to show their displeasure short of slinging their caipirinhas at her – but clearly they express their love differently in Brazil. Understandably bucked by this show of hysterical support and devotion, she brushes aside suggestions that she might be worried as to how she’s perceived by “more established DJs”. “I think the whole club scene is about love, music and not judging: it’s all about playing music you love.” Indeed, no sooner had her set finished than a selection of more established DJs took to Twitter to offer their glowing endorsements. They came to praise her from every area of the dance music spectrum, from former Big Brother contestant Basshunter (“what a sad day for dance music”) to Chicago house legend DJ Sneak (“get off the DJ train, not for you”), to techno maven Dave Clarke (“I think she’s set the cause of sexual equality back by being vacuous”).

Luckily, her collaborator DJ Afrojack was on hand to offer his unreserved backing for her latest career choice: “I saw and I was like … ugh,” he enthused. “I think it’s really important that if you go in front of a crowd and DJ, you actually take the time and practise becoming a DJ. You can’t just … wave a flag. Also, it was pre-recorded. I’m not supposed to say that, my management’s going to fucking kill me, but it’s true.”

LiS is happy to join in the chorus of approval. Come on, Paris! Don’t listen to the haters! They laughed when you did your cover version of Do Ya Think I’m Sexy? and yet the accompanying album got to No 49 in the charts in the Wallonia region of Belgium. The DJing seems to be going terribly well so far: who knows where it’ll take you next? It goes into the loft, digs out its Day-Glo whistle, blows it in salute and says: the true destiny of acid house is safe in this woman’s hands.