Plastique by Ant Orange: A Brit-Bred Acid Trip That Kicks You in the Teeth
Alright, let’s get one thing straight—Ant Orange’s Plastique isn’t your run-of-the-mill electronic album. Released back in 2008 under the Dead Channel label, this UK-born beast doesn’t just sit in the background while you sip lattes or pretend to be deep on Instagram. Nah, it grabs you by the throat and spits acid techno right into your soul. With styles ranging from breaks to experimental chaos, this record is like a glitchy fever dream that won’t quit.
First off, big ups to Smooth&Fresh for the artwork because it fits like a glove—sleek, distorted, and kinda unsettling. But let’s talk about what really matters: the tracks. Ant Orange wrote and produced this whole thing himself, which explains why it feels so damn cohesive yet unhinged at the same time. The dude didn’t phone it in—he went full mad scientist mode.
Now, I gotta shout out two tracks that stuck with me like gum on a hot sidewalk. First up is "NeonChomski." Holy hell, this track hits different. It starts off all brooding and atmospheric, but then BAM—it slams you with these jagged beats and synths that sound like they’re melting through your speakers. Every time I hear it, I feel like I’m wandering through some neon-lit dystopia where robots have taken over but forgot how to chill. The rhythm switches are wild enough to keep you guessing, and honestly? That unpredictability makes it unforgettable.
Then there’s "BigAir," which sounds exactly like its name implies—a massive sonic leap into uncharted territory. This track has this raw energy that builds and builds until you’re practically vibrating out of your skin. It’s not polished or pretty; it’s gritty as fuck, like someone took a sledgehammer to a warehouse rave and recorded the aftermath. There’s something almost primal about it, like it taps into emotions you didn’t even know you had. By the end, you’re either gasping for air or just straight-up losing your mind. Either way, mission accomplished.
The rest of the album ain’t no slouch either. Tracks like “M606” and “4AM” bring their own flavor of breakbeat madness, while “NoDivas” lives up to its name by being brutally minimal yet totally captivating. Even softer moments like “Amberfunk” hit hard because nothing here feels forced or fake. Ant Orange clearly poured every ounce of his twisted genius into this project.
But here’s the kicker: listening to Plastique feels less like enjoying music and more like surviving an experience. It’s exhausting, exhilarating, and occasionally infuriating—but damn if it doesn’t leave a mark. If you’re looking for easy listening, go somewhere else. But if you wanna dive headfirst into a chaotic, acid-drenched world that refuses to play nice, this album’s got your number.
And hey, maybe that’s why it’s stuck with me all these years later. It’s not perfect, but perfection’s boring anyway. Life’s messy, loud, and unpredictable—and so is Plastique. Fucked up? Maybe. Brilliant? Absolutely.
Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth, I’m blasting this album during the fight. Not sure if it’ll scare ‘em off or make ‘em dance, but either way, we’d go out swinging.
