Do Believe The Hype is a series where a writer introduces a beloved artist to another writer who has yet to be convinced by their legend.
Today it’s Fran Slater’s turn to convince Tom Burrows of the genius of The Prodigy with a carefully curated 10-track playlist.
I’ve been putting this one off since January. “But why?” you ask. Well, for me, there’s a deeply uncool, dated vibe to The Prodigy. A very ‘mad for it 😝’ energy. A mood tailored to those who have dropped a pill (preferably in 1995), and had their mind altered for the duration of their listening time. For context, that’s not the environment that I’ve chosen to approach any of my listens to this playlist. I’m listening on headphones, it’s 2023, and I’m hoping there’s something I’ve greatly misunderstood about the authors behind ‘Smack My Bitch Up’, Keith Flint’s insane makeup, and a collection of genuinely terrible album covers.
The playlist
- ‘Poison’
- ‘Breathe’
- ‘Out of Space’
- ‘3 Kilos’
- ‘Fire – Sunrise Version’
- ‘Voodoo People’
- ‘Charly’
- ‘Firestarter’
- ‘No Good (Start the Dance)’
- ‘Narayan’
Early listens
I’m a firm believer of the adage ‘you get out what you put in’, so it’s probably not a huge surprise, given my lack of enthusiasm for the playlist, that early listens didn’t yield a whole lot of joy for me.
Firstly, I know it’s not exactly The Prodigy’s USP, but I found the songs to be completely devoid of any lyrical interest. ‘Poison’ has this excerpt of a scene where Liam Howlett gets a phone call in what sounds like a typical office, and gets annoyed because he’s “trying to write this tune”. But it seems like for him, ‘tune writing’ means big beats, bigger drops, and vaguely repetitive lyrics (“I got the poison, I got the remedy”). The closest we get to any sort of thematic elements beyond the beats are the prominent samples, but even these seem just designed for big chant-along events, such as the vocals plucked from reggae or dancehall tunes in ‘Out of Space’ or ‘Fire’. For a self-described lyrics man, I’m very surprised Fran is still into these.
However, some of the sound does give me something to latch onto. Breakbeats and big percussion have seemingly disappeared from modern mainstream music. The last I heard of it was when it evolved into the Chase & Status-led drum and bass of the late 00s which I hated. But some of this has piqued my interest, like the propulsive drums of ‘Breathe’, and the slower build of ‘3 Kilos’, which is backed by some pleasantly melodic synths and keys. The common theme here is that the aspects of The Prodigy’s music that are seemingly tailored to the rave arena are the parts I find offputting, whereas the more melodic and precise sounds are more enjoyable. I’m intrigued to find out if time will meld the two together in my mind.
Later listens
When presented with this playlist, I thought I’d be all ‘I like the early stuff’ – but with more listens I realised that I found that era quite obnoxious. ‘Out of Space’ may be instantly familiar, but that doesn’t mean I like it. The central sample and ‘boing’ keyboard sound is so incredibly basic, it sounds like an experiment by a teenager in a school music class. Same goes for ‘Fire’, which is probably the song I least enjoyed on the list: a dull song that surrounds a dull sample. The exception to the rule is ‘Charly’, their very first single. This song is unquestionably good. The sample from a children’s information film contrasted with the wonky beats is very creepy which I like a lot, and found much more interesting than the other stuff on that first album included here.
The songs from the band’s mid-90s era are a similar mixed bag. I grew to like ‘3 Kilos’ even more as the listens went on. It’s rich in musical detail, takes time to build and doesn’t solely rely on the big moments. And incredibly, it’s the second longest song on this whole list! But the other picks from that era were less successful.
I say “incredibly” about ‘3 Kilos’, because ‘Poison’ is shorter but somehow feels much longer. It just meanders for what feels like ages, and revolves around another unremarkable sample. And while the hook of ‘Voodoo People’ is another one that’s incredibly familiar, the rest of the song is this high tempo drum and bass landscape which is wholly uninteresting. ‘No Good (Start The Dance)’ feels perfect for that 90s rave scene, but here on my headphones I was very bored.
And yet, all was not lost, because my favourite stuff ended up being the songs on 1997’s The Fat of the Land. As far as I recall, it’s the one that made them massive – so here I am once again revealing my underlying basic tastes. My enjoyment of ‘Breathe’ only increased with subsequent listens, with its punchy and crisp production. But most surprisingly, I developed a newfound fondness for ‘Firestarter’, a song I think I’ve heard roughly one million times. There’s a reason it’s their most ubiquitous song: it’s a banger. Like ‘Breathe’, the percussion is crisply powerful (‘crisp’ is the best I can do, I’m afraid), and those synths which eerily swirl and warp around Keith Flint’s vocals are incredibly effective. I assumed I was sick to death of it, but I’m glad Fran has included it here. And to round off the playlist is ‘Narayan’, which, even though it’s over 9 minutes long, is actually alright. It’s one of the few with discernable lyrics, and sounds a bit like an indie rock song – suggesting that even The Prodigy weren’t able to fully escape the tide of Britpop.
So, do I believe the hype?
I never questioned the hype of The Prodigy, so I suppose the question is more, do I believe the music is any good? And in the end, for some of it, it’s a yes. ‘Breathe’ and ‘Firestarter’ still stand up today – they actually sound great in my headphones. And ‘Charly’ and ‘3 Kilos’ show a level of musical skill that I had unfairly thought they weren’t capable of. But that’s the good thing about this feature – it challenges these preconceptions.
Yet, some remained. The songs I didn’t like, I really didn’t. Though I can see why people click with ‘Out of Space’ and ‘Voodoo People’ and The Prodigy undoubtedly had an ear for catchy hooks, these kind of songs aren’t to my taste at all. The biggest crime for me is that some of them are just dull when listening at home. Even after several listens, I had to double check how the rest of ‘No Good’ went beyond the sample.
Ultimately I don’t think I’ll be coming back to The Prodigy much. But if you ask me if I like them after doing this feature, instead of “no”, I’ll say “I like a few of their songs.” And after 1,200 words and 6 months, that’s the kind of enthusiastic success we’ll end on, folks.
Words by Tom Burrows
Picky Bastards 