R&b
Much has been made of the new stage at this year’s festivals. Dubbed ‘The Chevron,’ organisers boast that it features ‘bespoke creative visuals, cutting-edge tech and a world-class sound system.’ Taking all that into account, Melvin Benn and company have chosen the perfect inaugural act on a clear late summer’s night.
Since the passing of Keith Flint five years ago, The Prodigy have been slowly but surely reclaiming their status as giants on the live stage. Essentially, their maxim (ho-ho) has been to continue doing what they do in Keith’s name, but harder. The void left onstage still exists, but Maxim has taken on the extra responsibility respectfully, judging which vocal gaps to fill tastefully while delivering his own lines with customary venom.
Not that Flint is forgotten, with ‘Firestarter’ – despatched early in the set – a full-on tribute, his iconic silhouette from the song’s video lighting up the screens, competing with an eye-piercing laser show. It would be tear-inducing, were it not for the sheer power of the song, still undimmed by over-familiarity.
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Power, of course, remains The Prodigy’s default setting. Liam Howlett orchestrates behind his gargantuan desk at the centre of the stage, while the live contributors on guitar wrench every decibel they can out of their instruments.
It helps to have an armada of tunes. Spanning their 35-year career, from ‘Out Of Space’ (the final track) right up 2018’s ‘We Live Forever’, Howlett and co pummel the audience into submission over 75 minutes. As impressive as the LED lighting is – a ‘net’ covering the entire arena – it still plays second fiddle to the music. Every song is a rallying cry, from Breathe’s instantly recognisable riff opening the show and setting a high-octane precedent that never wavers.
‘Smack My Bitch Up’ – problematic even back in 1997 – is reworked, the words themselves blurred and twisted but the force of the song never compromised. The bass reverberates so intensely that ribcages rattle, while ‘Spitfire’ – from black sheep album ‘Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned’ – is less a song, more an industrial power drill with amplifiers. To ensure the momentum is maintained, most tracks are truncated but that only makes it a masterclass in anticipation, allowing the crowd to draw breath before another pile-driving drop.
Pulverising, persistent and damn-near perfect, The Prodigy’s return to Reading Festival after 15 years was worth every second of the wait.
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Words: Richard Bowes
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