Take your brain to another dimension

The Prodigy
Nottingham Arena
11 April 2009

Thirteen or so years ago Middle England went into a Daily Mail-led temper tantrum about Keef Flint perverting the youth of this green and fertile land. Of course, he was exactly the kind of figure the Mail get in a rage about. Punk hair? check; tattoos? check; piercings? check; man wearing make-up? check; video shows him bouncing off the walls of a sewer? check; Jon Lydon drawl? check;seemingly promoting arson with his ditty? check.
And now he's back. If the newspaper industry wasn't in such dire trouble perhaps ink would be being put to paper right now to express the moral outrage.
Last night he performed with a band at the top of their game. Skillfully mixing old skool rave hits of the early- and mid-90s with offerings from their new album and everything in between. They had an entire arena (perhaps not sold out but would guess nearing capacity with around 9,000 of us) hands in the air rocking the dance floor (and the tiered seating) for nearly three hours when you count in the Dizzee. Not bad for people who look like they last gave it up with glow sticks a decade ago.
Dizzee delivered a blinding start for us all though. From the chart friendly, accessible to all Dance Wiv Me to the hardcore bounce of Bonkers and the nostalgic euphoria of sampling Dirty Cash. Within a shortish set he managed to showcase the skillz those who've only heard of him thanks to his recent chart hook-up with Calvin Harris won't be aware of. A skilled rapper and social commentator he is also the provider of some madly happy bass beats.
And then it was time...
From start to finish they had us in their resounding rhythm. From the newest sounds to the old skool favourites this was an expertly constructed set by a band at the top of their game once again. The reversion to the rock rave mash up which took them mainstream years ago is even more apparent as songs from new album Invaders Must Die (Omen, Warrier's Dance) sit side by side and seamlessly blend together. The feeling is less that the new beats are dated but that the last decade hasn't aged crowd-frenzy-inducing pleasers like Breathe and Firestarter.
They don't let us rest through 90 minutes of pounding basslines and searing riffs. There was no end to the pit. Those of us in the sweating seething mass of the floor could only have moved more if they'd uncovered the ice underneath. The seats didn't get too much use either...everyone was on their feet and bouncing, grins on faces and hearts beating to a heavier time.
They finish us with an encore comprising both Smack My Bitch Up (forever known as Pass the Ketchup round our way) and finally pushing our endorphins into complete overdrive with Everybody In The Place.
The Prodigy have found their time again. They know we love them. But they also know what we want and they don't disappoint. They are a band who have not only found each other again but who love the love they are getting.

* As brilliant as it all was I couldn't help feeling a little bit deja vu for this episode of Spaced.