Review: The Prodigy, The Day Is My Enemy
Somethingyousaid.com’s Chloe Mayne considers the latest offering from the UK legends:
I feel as though I should definitely preface this humble sliver of sonic opinion by saying that I’m no Prodigy diehard. If I had to choose a genre of the nineties to identify myself with, it’d be shoegaze, so feel welcome to stop reading if you think this nullifies me/that makes your blood boil. I’m aware, though, that these guys are one of the most influential acts in dance/electronica, and big kudos to them – so here goes. I’m pressing ‘play’.
As the album kicks off with the title track, I’m not necessarily blown away – it sounds like, well, The Prodigy. No surprises here. The bass kicks and drops like a pendulum, melting into howls and warped croons. ‘Nasty’, with its perpetual title chant, is a little uncomfortable to listen to. I feel as though somebody’s telling me off, wagging a finger at my subconscious while drilling into it with a piece of dental equipment.
‘Ibiza’ brings in a vague hip-hop element with a cameo by Sleaford Mods, though the tsunami of sirens and drop-drop-drop makes my chest pound in bemusement. By this point, it’s really unsurprising that ‘violent’ and ‘angry’ have been the keywords following this record around thus far and latching onto its claws. It never really lets up. ‘Rok-Weiler’ reminds me of the dubstep I used to roll my head around to when I first started taking pingers, while ‘Rhythm Bomb’ takes me further back to my days of So Fresh and 100% Hits compilations.
The Day Is My Enemy could have been programmed into existence by a Prodigy robot, or at least a fan of the band that’s good with computers. But if you are one of those fans, who’s to complain? It probably beats listening to ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ for the umpteenth time.
It’s certainly no record to sip your tea to on a Saturday morning; but if you haven’t slept yet and your eyes are wide and your fingers are a little shaky, craving something to temporarily quash the comedown, The Day Is My Enemy just might work out for you.
Words by Chloe Mayne.