Gig played on 03/12/05

Doooooooof! Without warning, Liam Howlett drops a bass frequency so low and so incredibly loud that people - all 5,000 of them - visibly flinch. All around are looks of confusion and fear as The Prodigy's rabid following attempts to make sense of what's just happened while others stand with their hands over their ears, fearful of a follow-up. Doooooooof! Doooooooof! It happens again and again to the point where several hundred punters at the front are struggling to control their bowels while all around internal organs are churned and rib cages rattled. If this wasn't a gig it'd pass for an experiment conducted by the Ministry Of Defence.

For many ravers of a certain vintage, The Prodigy was the band that killed the happy-clappy love vibes of house music and replaced them with something altogether darker. To others, The Prodigy's fusion of rock, rave and the nascent drum'n'bass scene re-invigorated a genre that was becoming overly smug and self-satisfied and in the process created something that took dance music to the next level.

Of course, that was then and this is now and as The Prodigy takes the stage on the first date of their five-night residency at the Brixton Academy, to promote their new singles collection, there's certainly a case to be made that they've become the techno Oasis. Their last album, "Always Outnumbered Never Outgunned", was released to mass indifference with a sound that suggested a band that had run out of steam and, like the Gallaghers, was happy to cruise on past glories and a tried and tested formula. The release of "Their Law: The Singles" only seemed to support this.

If The Prodigy has found themselves in a creative cul-de-sac, there's no faulting the power of their live show. With a stage set redolent of some twisted pirate ship and armed with a PA capable of devastating medium-sized communities, The Prodigy detonate the Brixton Academy with seemingly consummate ease. As Liam Howlett stands behind his bank of keyboards, MC Maxim Reality and Keith Flint - looking as if he's auditioning for "Carry On Hitler" - whip the audience into a frenzy through a combination of endless dancing and guttural shouting.

Of course, the material helps. "Breathe" is monumental while "Firestarter" still retains the power to unnerve. "No Good (Start The Dance)" sees the return of the rubber-legged Leeroy Thornhill and "Voodoo People" damn near threatens to bring a bouncing balcony crashing down onto the heaving mass below. Not all of it works; new tracks "Warning" and "Wake The F*ck Up" are an industrial din and "Smack My Bitch Up" still leaves an incredibly vile aftertaste.

Whatever their shortcomings as a creative and cultural force in today's world, The Prodigy have just supplied the finest start possible to the panto season.

by James Marshall