Three Songs: The Prodigy
An old friend messaged to tell me Prodigy singer Keith Flint died.
She and I met amidst thundering kick-drums and retina-piercing strobes at Camden Palace, London, in 2002. In my 20s my primary social identification was as a “clubber” (we were too history-savvy to refer to ourselves as “ravers” — an appellation reserved for pre-Criminal Justice Act 1994 trailblazers).
Being a clubber was more than just listening to music “ wholly or predominantly characterised by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats” (as the CJA fatuously put it). It was an immersive, participatory sub-culture characterised by solidarity and scepticism.
Much of what we did was illegal and, often, unwise, which is a potent bonding mechanism. An uptight perfectionist, clubbing was where I let loose. It was where I found out you can be goofy, messy, dumb, reckless and still be a good person; still be loved.
The Prodigy embodied and spoke to that experience more than any other band or artist. Their 1994 breakthrough, Music for the Jilted Generation, was perfectly titled: they spoke for the underappreciated, weird, struggling, and the misunderstood. They spoke for outsiders. For us.
Thrillingly, they flashed middle fingers and blasted their block-rockin’ beats all the way to the top of the charts half a dozen times. Notably, 1997's Fat of the Land went to number one in the U.S. — an unprecedented triumph for noise-making outcasts everywhere.
The years have not adulterated the raw power of their music. Hearing the intro to “Outta Space” still gives me chills; “Smack My Bitch” snaps me to a freshman dorm room at 2AM and the flashed warning message — this video may cause offense; “Firestarter” evokes watching 120Minutes as a teenager.
Keith was more than fire starter. He was an icon who made his fans feel included. Unique. Instantly recognisable. Ferocious. Hyper. Generous.
He was an uneducated, working class kid who embraced rave culture — and was embraced in return. In our nervous, rule-abiding era he was a refreshing reminder that you could live life on your own terms.
That he chose to take that life is heart-breaking.
We’ll miss you, Keith.
Out of Space — Live
Smack My Bitch Up — don’t watch this if you’re going to complain…
Firestarter
