Keith Flint 1969-2019
The iconic frontman was found dead at his home aged 49. All love and sympathy goes out to his family, friends and all fans across the world at this sad time.

The Independent

All our yesterdays and tomorrows, today (The Prodigy, Somerset House, London)

Once upon a future, all music was going to sound like this. In fact - despite their arguable influence on the rock-dance fusions of Daft Punk, Bodyrockers, Apollo 440 and Rinocerose - nobody else sounded like The Prodigy, and that future remained unrequited.

Tonight's show, then, evokes a peculiar feeling of nostalgia for a "now" which might have been. If any band had the firepower to deliver the mother of all shock-and-awe shows, it's The Prodigy. But they fail to use it. For example, there's only a teasing snatch of "No Good" and too often the momentum is allowed to sag between songs. The more that Maxim, a highwayman stripe painted across his eyes, yells "I wanna see you dance!", the more I wish The Prodigy would give us no choice in the matter.

Keith Flint is present and devilishly correct. As he runs hyperactively back and forth like a bear in a bad zoo, it's evident that as a live - and, ultimately, a commercial - entity, The Prodigy would be the poorer without him.

They still have their moments. And, to be frank, they're old moments. As they finally deliver a belated knockout blow with an encore of "Poison", "Smack My Bitch Up" and "Out Of Space", the retro-futurist nostalgia becomes overwhelming: I remember tomorrow.

Jump to Reviews main | Prodigy main