4 out of 5 stars

THE issue of how to deal with an ageing rock audience was dealt with back in the post-punk era when it became apparent that the Rolling Stones were going to truck on until they wheezed their last rather than capitulate to the next generation of young bucks. All you have to do is provide seating for the grown-ups at your concerts and they will happily while away hours reliving the soundtrack of their youth.

But what of the generation who spent their late teens chasing down illegal parties in fields somewhere off the M25? Who stayed up for a week hand-jiving to repetitive beats? Those guys and gals are all – gulp – close to 20 years older now. Some might actually have jobs to go to in the morning, and families to raise. So what do we do with all the old ravers? You can't rave from a sedentary position, that would just be madness.

This wouldn't be a problem if rave would just gracefully retire to the big warehouse party in the sky. But there are veteran dance acts hanging around with mortgages to pay. Chiefly, The Prodigy, who ensured their survival after the Vicks VapoRub had run out by marrying rave music with rock and punk to create the snarling hybrid heard on their classic albums Music For The Jilted Generation and The Fat Of The Land.

Inevitably, the zeitgeist moved on (though The Prodigy's influence has resurfaced in the current rave/rock crossover sounds of Pendulum, Enter Shikari and Rolo Tomassi). Main man Liam Howlett, obsessed with progress and credibility, spent seven years hunched over a laptop trying to reinvent their sound for the 2004 comeback Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned. The album sold well enough but didn't light many fires.

It wasn't until Howlett reunited with his court jesters Keith Flint and Maxim and headed out on the road that the penny dropped.

Throughout the 1990s, The Prodigy were one of the most incendiary bands on the circuit. The isolated, studio-bound approach was not for them. Invaders Must Die was conceived to be played live, and it shows. Leaving the innovating to someone else for a change, they have simply plundered what they do best. This fifth album is another almighty clash between their old school rave roots and their turbo-charged rock tendencies, which unashamedly references their first three albums, including their ravey-davey debut Experience.

The chunky Thunder harks back to Out Of Space with its sample of an earthy ragga vocal, while current single Omen recalls the ravecore of No Good (Start The Dance) on rocket fuel. World's On Fire is gurning rave track meets smash-'em-up-computer-game soundtrack, and Warrior's Dance shares DNA with 808 State's timeless Pacific State and any track that ever featured screaming diva vocals about the rush of the dancefloor.

Vocals from Flint and Maxim are generally confined to sloganeering shout-outs such as the title track's no-brainer "we are The Prodigy!" Catchy, cartoony and climactic, this could be the amped-up, nosebleed soundtrack to some Japanese animation or a frenzied bout of LaserQuest.

Colours is a blunt, brutal snub-nosed punk rock track with some hectic digitised decoration in the style of Hot Butter's Popcorn. With barely a pause for breath, it segues straight into Take Me To The Hospital (also the name of their record label), which mashes up Dalek-style utterances, booty-shaking bass and another nod to Out Of Space in the helium vocal breakdown.

They also flex their rock muscles on the mountainous Run With The Wolves. Flint gets to curl his lip, but the thundering heart of the track is a drum break which Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl recorded and sent to Howlett on spec. Howlett has done it justice – the finished result sounds like ideal back-up for a futuristic chase sequence in some big, dumb action film.

Things get even more interesting in the closing stages. Piranha breaks some new ground for the band, anchoring a classic garage rock riff and rhythm underneath the usual rave frippery and embellishing sound effects straight out of a 1950s sci-fi film, while the closing track, Stand Up, is the kind of irresistible horn-sampling big beat sashay you might expect from Fatboy Slim or Primal Scream.

But with the exception of these teasing departures in style, it appears that The Prodigy have made their peace with posterity and are now content to follow the Rolling Stones' model for long-term survival by sticking to the rulebook that they wrote in the first place.

It might sound like we've been here before, but it is also a relentlessly invigorating place to be. As well as recapturing the energy that roared out of Music For The Jilted Generation, the trio sound like they are having fun again. Now might be the time to get on your feet and join them.

The Prodigy:
Invaders Must Die
[Take Me to the Hospital; 2009]
Rating: 5.8

* Buy it from Insound
* Download it from eMusic

By the time he'd wrapped up his first decade recording as the Prodigy, Liam Howlett had released at least a dozen great singles, from his earliest squeaky rave classics to the snarling big beat that made him a millionaire in the late 1990s. Howlett's proudly inelegant grooves made him a boogieman among critics allergic to bubblegum, even as the Prodigy enjoyed the kind of mass culture success that any dance producer would secretly envy. If you want to take a break from minimal techno to relive the rush of zillions-selling mainstream dance-- and you've misplaced your Chemical Brothers collection-- any of the three solid albums the Prodigy released between 1992 and 1997 will do the trick nicely.

Unfortunately, as he now wraps up his second decade recording as the Prodigy, the nicest thing you can say about Howlett is that his healthy attitude toward self-cannibalization occasionally makes for decent music. Very occasionally. 2004's Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned-- the first Prodigy full-length following 1997's multi-platinum, America-wooing The Fat of the Land-- was mostly a crass reiteration of Howlett's greatest financial success, offering slight tweaks to Fat's booming breakbeats and pissed-off rock vocals. But if you stuck to the singles you could almost hear the glowstick gleam of the old hooks under the not-so-scary noise.

The new Invaders Must Die, however, may in fact be a cry for help. Howlett will not be budged from his noisy comfort zone, however much his fanbase shrinks in the face of creative burnout. From the first track through its final seconds, Invaders joylessly stomps through overly familiar territory. It's another lunkheaded, loud mash-up of rock and dance, a sound now so beefed-up and campy that it's perhaps only suitable for shotgunning cheap beer and practicing UFC chokeholds with your pals. The album-opening fade-in is about the only subtle touch on Invaders; Howlett's music is more intractably aggressive than ever before. When he takes an instrumental breather on Invaders, with "Omen Reprise", the result's closer to the dumb, portentous rush of a gabba techno track, minus the drums.

As for the "songs," Howlett's motley crew of vocalists pull out all of the sneers and grimaces and nu-metal tricks to match the music's testosterone level. To say nothing of the volume level: The Jamaican chatter on "Thunder" sounds like he's straining to be heard over a double-decker stack of Marshalls, rather than nicing up the local dance. One track at a time, it sorta works, even with the non-stop bludgeoning of the rhythm programming and Howlett's complete lack of taste in rock. What doesn't work is an album that tries to fill even half its running time with Mockneys shouting dumb-ass catchphrases like "your world's on fire" over hip-house so heavily distorted it's become one big digital smear. Who knew we'd one day praise "Smack My Bitch Up" for its relative sonic nuance? Even a quarter-hour of Howlett's music has become exhausting.

Blessedly but briefly, halfway through Invaders the non-stop stadium rock posturing gives way to a fond look back the Prodigy's earliest (and best) records. "Take Me to the Hospital" and "Warriors Dance"-- with their diva samples and sped-up dancehall soundbites and ambulance sirens and all the trimmings-- are the cheap tracks of the Prodigy's first phase re-budgeted for an era of shrill French techno and restraint-free blog house. They're pretty thrilling. But only a track later here's Prodigy pal Dave Grohl laying down a meathead motorik rhythm while Howlett displays a cringeworthy fascination with the oompah keyboards of modern day "clownstep" drum 'n' bass. At least it sounds like he's having fun.

But then you'd expect Howlett-- a 37-year-old man who's made a pretty penny by shamelessly holding onto the hormonally-amped constitution of a teenager-- would still find enjoyment in this stuff. For the rest of the planet, Howlett's brand of glee may no longer provide the same rush as when we were on the cusp of adulthood, fist-pumping to Fat of the Land. While it'd be nice if Howlett found a new generation of teenage dirtbags to take our places, the occasional burst of cloddish nostalgia-- dig that old school house piano on "World's on Fire"-- doesn't alleviate the sad fact that even the Prodigy's singles, a source of mild throwback pleasure as little as four years ago, have becoming a slog.

So Invaders Must Die is the big comeback from the Prodigy, huh?

Here's what the professional reviewers think. The Independent reckons it's a fairly toothless exercise. The Grauniad reckons they're rehashing old material with limited success. Drowned In Sound blames the Prodigy for the existence of the pants-poor stag party junglists Pendulum.

The Times, which in many ways is the natural home of punk techno, was delighted that Invaders was the "big, brilliant, dumb rave album we have secretly wanted them to make for the past ten years". NME.com hasn't posted its thoughts on the album, although their review of current top ten single Omen chucks us the cutting-edge bone of "it doesn't get a lot more old school than this". Snappy.

Spin Magazine celebrates the Prodigy's "tingly breakdowns" instead of their older style "bratty prattle". Now that's what I call delightful journalism.

What's my non-professional opinion? It's a relief to see a bunch of ageing punksters rediscover their mojo to some extent. But watching The Prodge block-rock their bitch up so many moons since their rave origins... well, it's a bit like Johnny Rotten pretending to be a rebel when all along he just wanted to advertise butter.

Okay, they've got big-teeth rock monster Dave Grohl guesting on the album, but that's where the problem lies. Last generation's white-gloved ravers and nihilistic Cobainers are this generation's MTV junkies. That's what the Prodigy are now: a glorious, hard-edged dance act designed for gigantic stages and wide-screen tellyboxes. Which is fine, but please don't mistake that with the punk spirit that gave birth to rave.

But let's put the negatives aside, into this little shiny box of negatives which I am going to hide under my bed and only bring out when I am in a long-term relationship and I'm running out of passive-aggressive snipes with which to wither away our fading love.

The Prodigy bring a mentalness to the charts which is both primary coloured and full of interesting shades. Punk or no punk, they're one big trouserful of fun, and if that's what you want with the Prodders (and what else would you want?), Invaders Must Die works.

To use a ridiculous analogy, if Fat Of The Land was Fargo, and Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned was The Ladykillers, then Invaders Must Die is Burn After Reading. I do wish it was No Country For Old Men, but still, it's good enough for me.

Global Gathering is just one of the places their live show will invade this summer. I will be setting fire to my copy of the Times and using it as a primitive light stick at the earliest opportunity.

Each of Prodigy’s first LP’s spawned copy-cat acts who thought they could recreate or better composer Liam Howlett’s magic by stringing together a few repetitive female vocals over some crunchy, saturated beats and fat sliding analog bass lines. Sure, all the sonic elements of Experience/Jilted/Fat were present but the outcomes were typically mechanical and uninspired, typically aspiring to no better than being background music on b-grade action movies geared to teenage boys.

So, ignoring the catastrophe that was Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned, Prodigy are back to show the rest of the boys how it’s done right? Somewhat. In a strange twist of fate, the imitators seem to have become The Prodigy’s inspiration, as the majority of the tracks on Invaders Must Die are structurally indistinguishable from the electronic generica that emerged in Howlett’s shadow during the 1990’s.

Each track essentially consists of the following: kick ass buzzing bass line, rah-rah vocal samples, a standard dance drum beat popularized at least a decade ago and a one signature old school stab/sample. The latter, so legend has it, was an attempt to recreate the anthem-rave vibe from Experience that first put Prodigy on the map. All the earmarks are present, for sure: the opening title track starts with a fuzzed guitar over a building bass line then hits hard with an aggressive electro-guitar wall of club-friendly energy. “Omen” keeps the energy high by superimposing Keith’s foreboding chants onto xylophone-accented analog breaks, while “Thunder” initially lulls the listener with a dub-influenced intro that quickly gives way to what is essentially the same high octane breakbeats as the last two tracks (albeit with ragga vocals).

The album highlight is “Warrior’s Dance” which easily lives up to its online buzz by recreating the 1992 rave breakbeat vibe with hardcore stabs and infectious female vocals.
The closing track, “Stand-Up” is a distinguishingly down-tempo track written in the style of “Molotov Bitch”. It is also the only track where Howlett truly takes a risk by sampling an R&B horn section for the head-nodding hook.

As expected, the production is top notch - neatly sampled, immaculately mixed and without any sharp diversions in its sequencing. Paradoxically, Invaders Must Die suffers from its mechanical perfection and predictability. Apart from Warrior’s Dance and Stand-Up, there is very little separating these tracks sonically from each other, though elements from Prodigy’s ground-breaking work can be found randomly distributed in all of them. Coming from the standard Myspace sensation producer with a copy of FL Studio, this album would be an A- effort. Coming from the creator of “Poison” and “Weather Experience”, Invaders Must Die sounds recycled and overly conservative. Worth your money for the nostalgia, but don’t expect to be blown away.

we should kill the guy who wrote the pitchfork article

The Prodigy - Invaders Must Die
(Tuesday February 24, 2009 4:06 PM )

Released on 23/02/09
Label: Take Me To The Hospital

It's been a torrid seven years for The Prodigy. Always something of a jokey thorn in both the mainstream and underground's sides, they nevertheless provided a twisted '90s take on punk, which was a million times more vital than Sex Pistols' "Filthy Lucre" reunion tour. It's still worth remembering that they ushered in the whole "toytown" rave scene with 1991's "Charly" (though that , admittedly, quickly outstayed its welcome) and did as much as anyone to unite the junglist massive with the following year's "Out Of Space", both from their debut album, "Experience".

Two years later, "Music For The Jilted Generation" hit Britain like an electronic Blitz just as Britpop began to make guitars cool again and the Thatcher government sought to stamp out illegal raves with the 1994 Criminal Justice Act. In retrospect, a fallout was inevitable. "Fat Of The Land" from 1996 saw The Prodigy push their growing mainstream success with Keith Flint's harmless comedy punk turn on "Firestarter" and, the following year, a banned "Smack My Bitch Up" video only really suggested that they were trying too hard to sharpen an edge for a dying scene.

Silent for five years, the godawful look-how-shocking "We love rohypnol" chants of the "Bitch"-clawing "Baby's Got A Temper" signalled only creative bankrupcy, while the largely Liam Howlett-led "Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned" struggled to raise eyebrows or expectations. Bringing us to "Invaders Must Die". Seemingly invigorated by last year's reissues of "Experience" and "Jilted Generation", Howlett, Flint and Maxim Reality have dug back into their bag of early '90s tricks. In all honesty, they've found about an EP's worth of solid material and some laughable rubbish.

The highlights revisit past glories, with the opening title track dropping audio bombs like it's 1991 and "Omen" charging forth like a laser juggernaut, despite Flint's "The writing's on the wall - it won't go away" sloganeering, the likes of which only ageing punks can really spout with any self-belief these days (and, really, they should know better; see also "Take Me To The Hospital"'s "Welcome to the scene of the crash"). Still, they help remind us that, yes, perhaps we really do need a resurgence of earnest old school dance to wash away the tired ironic posturing of Lady Ga Gas and white-framed Ray-Ban wearers clogging up the music channels.

That said, whoever does it will need a little more self-belief than The Prodigy have here. They seem afraid to risk a good old-fashioned jungle break-out, the likes of which would be genuinely invigorating, while the closing "Stand Up" just sounds like someone next door playing a "Screamadelica" demo. Let's face it, we have Primal Scream for that.

But only a track later here's Prodigy pal Dave Grohl laying down a meathead motorik rhythm while Howlett displays a cringeworthy fascination with the oompah keyboards of modern day "clownstep" drum 'n' bass. At least it sounds like he's having fun.

To be ‘relevant’ one must be connected with what is happening around oneself. To be ‘ground-breaking’ one must be characterised by originality and innovation. To be ‘artistic’ one must show imagination and skill and be appreciative of art or beauty. To be simply ‘good’ one must be superior to the average. Unfortunately, five years after the underwhelming ‘Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned,’ studio album number five is the second nail in The Prodigy coffin.

Billed as the predictable ‘return to form,’ which like a chairman’s vote of confidence to his beleaguered manager – means quite the opposite. The feel is a desperate attempt to bring back the glory days for the band from Essex. Latest single ‘Omen’ sees the predictable blend of punk, hip hop and rave yet it’s been done before. They’ve done it all before, but better. A lot better.

“The writing’s on the wall / It won’t go away / It’s an Omen”

It seems Liam Howlett has taken a giant leap backwards. In welcoming back Keef and Maxim to vocal duties there is a clear desire for a return to the Prodigy’s commercial success and brilliance of the ‘Jilted Generation/Fat of The Land’ era. The problem remains that both were dropped from their previous outing for a reason, which now appears to have been forgotten. ‘Thunder’ has gone the way of 1992’s ‘Out of Space’ - using Jamaican-accented shout outs and unashamed giddyness in an attempt to recreate their classic. It doesn’t work. ‘Run With The Wolves’ trys to re-create the venom and bile of ‘Breathe’ but without, seemingly, any venom.

The unequivocal highlight is the final track ‘Stand Up.’ Admittedly, it could be off Fatboy Slim’s 1996 ‘Better Living Through Chemistry’, but the mix of horns and 303s is welcome relief from the relentless onslaught of the 10 tracks that befall it.

IMD sounds like the result of baking hash cakes without any hash. They’ve followed the old recipe but something important is missing. Backed by a loyal following and a fantastic live show, Howlett et al have secured headline slots at a multitude of festivals this summer as promoters still trust them to shift the tickets. Yet, even by their own fans standards ‘Always Outnumbered’ only sold on reputation and in truth, IMD will too. There is only so long a band can live off their standing.

The opening line to IMD is “We are The Prodigy.’’ On record at least, maybe that should be ‘were.’

Why should anyone care about the Prodigy anymore? For a band once so omnipresent, the four and a half years since the release of Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned have seen them fade away to become one of those bands that you’d maybe consider going to see live (although a ropey Oxegen 08 performance challenged even this) but buying a new record? Hmm…we’ll get back to you on that one. The news that they had bid farewell to their record label and were setting up on their own seemed to hammer the point home further – the Prodigy were finished.

So now they’re back (insert your own from out of space reference) with a new label, a new record and a very old sound. This, ladies and gentleman, is a rave record. That’s A RAVE RECORD. In the year 2009. Sound ridiculous? Maybe, but consider this. Of all the tracks collected on the Their Law compilation, what sounded the most vibrant, the most exciting? It certainly wasn’t their descent into cartoon punkery when they let Keith Flint start singing, but the stuff off Music For The Jilted Generation and even Experience – the very material that should have dated horribly.

Liam Howlett, then, knows just what he’s doing. This is more his album than ever, the sound of one man and his laptop. Although the first album since The Fat Of The Land to feature all three members, the contributions of both Maxim and (thankfully) Flint are kept low key. The former is at his menacing best on ‘Thunder’ but in reality both play second fiddle to Howlett’s beats and beeps.

The results are simply stunning, a heart stopping ride through speeded up vocal samples, the clarion call of hardcore keyboards and block rocking beats. Even Dave Ghrol, who provides drums ‘Run With The Wolves’, isn’t enough to drag this away from the dancefloor down some dull rock alleyway. Seeing as we’re in an old school mood, closer ‘Stand Up’ even resurrects the sound of Big Beat and manages to be the best thing on the record, maybe one of the best things they’ve done period. So why should anymore care about the Prodigy anymore? Because thrillingly, unexpectedly they still matter.

The Prodigy Invaders Must Die Cooking Vinyl
14:18 - 26 February 2009
PACKING in nods to their old skool rave roots and later rock-influenced material, Invaders is a hard-as-nails dancefloor destroyer, with unrelenting titanic beats, squealing hooks, copious synths and aggressive guitars.

Current single Omen is the highlight, showing pretenders like Pendulum how it's done with turbo-charged keys, shout-along chorus and, recalling '92 debut single Charly, a hypnotically childlike glockenspiel riff.

Invaders is closer to their earliest work, Keith Flint's punky sneers and growling guitars seconded to producer Liam Howlett's acerbic synth trickery.

It seemed for a while the fire in The Prodigy's belly had been dimmed for good, but Invaders - by and large - burns brightly in defiance.

***

It’s the twisted firestarters’ first new record in seven years. They didn’t sit around on their backsides. Instead they studied open air festivals and what you need to get today’s audiences dancing.

The original Prodigy line-up of ‘Twisted Firestarter’ Keith Flint, Liam Howlett and Maxim Reality is back and they sound like French dance act Justice.

No messing, listen to the title track of the Prodigy’s new album ‘Invaders Must Die’ or ‘Thunder’. Big kick drum, fuzzy Acid bass and a - in the most positive sense - bombastic production that will hit you at the back of the field in Glastonbury or wherever.

In fairness, The Prodigy are well positioned to claim back the festival crown: They were, after all, one of the first wave of acts to cross over from the rave to the festival stage.

Dig deeper and you’ll find that ‘Invaders Must Die’ is the Prodigy sound from 1992/94 - that of ‘Firestarter’ and ‘Out Of Space’ - with a few subtle tweaks and better technology.

On ‘Thunder’, ‘Invaders Must Die’ and ‘Take Me To The Hospital’ The Prodigy nail it just right. The first single ‘Omen’ is not bad either. Look out for these tunes on a dance stage or dance tent near you this summer.

When the band dips into its post-94 phase of gnarly Electro Rock, it goes a bit pear shaped.

‘Run With The Wolves’ features Grunge rocker Dave Grohl of Foo Fighters fame on drums but just doesn’t do it for me. Electro Rock always runs danger of sounding like cartoon music. Tricky managed to avoid this on his last album ‘Knowle West Boy’.

The Prodigy’s ‘Run With The Wolves’, ‘Colours’ and ‘Piranha’, on the other hand, have that clinical ‘heavy’ sound that works for a five second sound blast but not in a five minute song. Mind you, it probably works in a field with a few thousand people around you.

The surprise hit here is the album closer, ‘Stand Up’. As a bit of a laugh, The Prodigy take up a sound they never touched back in 92, the Rave sound of Primal Scream.

It’s that Rolling Stones inspired Boogie Rock with a flowing beat like on the Primals’ ‘Come Together’or ‘Loaded’. The Prodigy are really good at it. It’s an ace track, with a snarling brass section sounding ever so slightly like seminal Oz Punks The Saints.