I first heard Dutch producer Jaydee’s Plastic Dreams in Ibiza, towards the end of a Carl Cox set at Space. It was my first time on the island and at this stage I still thought it was quite cool how people chanted Seven Nation Army at the end of every night. Those heady days.
At the time I was standing at the back of Space Discoteca sipping a really, really, really expensive gin and tonic and fending off eager Italians. The suddenly overwhelming dark was pierced by a net of roving green lasers as those clear, well-rounded leading notes solemnly announced themselves. I had a moment.
I’ve heard it countless times since and almost every time I’ve been on my way off the dance floor for various humdrum reasons. Whatever my plan was – toilet stop, drinks run, fresh air – this song makes me drop it and race back. Every time. One time I heard it from inside the toilet cubicle and almost forgot to wipe. It’s like a dance floor call to arms – as soon as you hear those first three hollow chimes sound everybody stiffens, heads turn, noses go up as if catching a scent and back we all march to the dance floor, like the well trained ravers we occasionally are.
There has been a great long list of Plastic Dreams remixes released over the years that are entirely unnecessary because this song is timeless. Over twenty years on from its original release on R&S in 1993, Plastic Dreams is still a powerful weapon for even the most contemporary house and techno DJs. May it live forever, and may I always make it back to the dance floor in time for that loose organ solo.