(XL Recordings/Remote Control)

Late 80s Britain. The subterranean free party vibe whispers its secrets to a hidden generation, all chasing the smoke of a rumour like cats stalking shadows. Into the secret euphoria step a production wizard, two dancers and a sound system MC. Obsessed with the East London warehouse party scene they debut with a fistful of ruffneck breaks and a party hard attitude at Labyrinth in Dalston, London’s Four Aces Club. Its 1990 and The Prodigy experience is born …

So speaketh the sleeve notes. I could not resist this one – while many would argue that “techno terrorists” The Prodigy have had their day and are starting to look more wrinkly than wayward, it wasn’t always the case. Back in the late 1990s when I first started clubbing (which was mostly lame attempts to get in to clubs and plenty of morose sitting around outside) they still reigned supreme as the baddest dudes in dance music. All crazed hairdos, anarchist lyrics and “fuck off and die” punkish attitude, The Prodigy breathed new life into an emerging scene, invented a few tricks along the way and became synonymous with the fight for the right to party that characterised early dance music.

This is a great retrospective, spanning the earliest days (1991’s Charly and the excellent dub-infused Out of Space that DJs still drop at an alarming rate) right through to the present day (Hot Ride, featuring the inimitable Juliette Lewis in all her lycra bending glory). In fact, when you sit down to listen to this, it becomes suddenly clear just how much influence The Prodigy have had on dance music over more than 15 years – they were the precursor to the dirty edged breaks so popular today.

They have never shied away from controversy, poking at the UK’s political gatekeepers with a two-fingered salute (Their Law) and they famously upset women’s groups worldwide with 1997’s distinctly misogynistic and spiteful Smack My Bitch Up. But it was in the middle days of The Prodigy that their best work emerged – the spitting energy of Breathe and Voodoo People, the gleeful “fuck them” of the aforementioned Their Law, as well as Firestarter, which became an anthem for angry clubbers all over the world (and upset the authorities yet again for apparently promoting arson). And even though they now sound terribly dated, I also have a soft spot for No Good (Start the Dance) and the bleepin’ madness of Jericho, as I spent many happy hours dancing around like a loon to them many years ago.

As a retrospective this really is awesome, and it’s strange how many memories it brings back. Get a couple of mates around, whack this on the stereo and start swapping stories from the days of yore, I reckon.