The genre-busting 'Music For The Jilted Generation' was such a success on all levels that the act of following it seemed to inhibit The Prodigy's mainman Liam Howlett. Three years later they return, their name shortened to just Prodigy and in many ways they are a completely different band - tattooed, pierced, and with a guitarist adding extra firepower to their already incendiary live shows. Oh yeah, and there's the small matter of two successive Number 1 hits under their belts.
'The Fat Of The Land' races out of the blocks with the controversial 'Smack My Bitch Up'. A pounding mass of beats and keyboard squeals, it is the sonic equivalent of being repeatedly rammed into a wire fence. Then there's the sample of the Ultramagnetic MCs looping over and over: "Chase my pitch up/Smack my bitch up". It ain't big, it ain't clever, but boy does it pack a punch.
The chart-topping 'Breathe' is up next, with more whiplash percussion, and Keef duelling with Maxim. When Mr Flint sneers "Come play my game" it may come on like cartoon punk but it's still exciting. The rolling 'Diesel Power', featuring Howlett's hero Kool Keith on rapping duties, is his biggest tribute yet to his hip-hop roots and all the better for having one of the grandmasters at the controls.
By contrast, the Beastie Boys-sampling 'Funky Shit' and Flint's shouty Skunk Anansie collaboration 'Serial Thrilla' sound almost contrived. The energy is there but the angst and real venom is lacking. The doom-laden 'Mindfields' is a big improvement, with Maxim's distorted vocals and the pounding bass laying on the tension.
It's hard to know what to make of the Crispian Mills-sung 'Narayan'. On the one hand, it's easy to dismiss it as hippy dross and an inferior rewrite of The Chemicals' 'Setting Sun'. Yet it's the most overtly pop track on the album while still possessing an extra dimension thanks to Howlett's integration of space-age keyboards into the Eastern chanting. Then it's straight into the other biggie, 'Firestarter', which fits just perfectly into the album, even if it has been played to death over the last 18 months.
'Climbatize' is the most old-skool of the tracks, a throwback to 'Jilted Generation' and, as such, it sounds out of place. But at least it's better than the lame closing cover of L7's 'Fuel My Fire', with a keyboard mewling where a guitar would be snarling. Sometimes you've got to play the game straight, Liam.
When all's said and done the band's growing legion of fans won't be disappointed but this album is a definite case of one step forward, one step back. Its power may temporarily floor you, but there's a distinct lack of a suckerpunch.
