I’m The Bitch You Hated

Keith Flint
I’m the trouble starter, punkin’ instigator
I’m the fear addicted, a danger illustrated

I’m a firestarter, twisted firestarter
You’re the firestarter, twisted firestarter
I’m a firestarter, twisted firestarter

I’m the bitch you hated, filth infatuated, yeah
I’m the pain you tasted, well intoxicated

I’m a firestarter, twisted firestarter
You’re the firestarter, twisted firestarter

I’m the self inflicted, mind detonator, yeah
I’m the one infected, twisted animator

I’m a firestarter, twisted firestarter
You’re the firestarter, twisted firestarter
I’m a firestarter, twisted firestarter starter
The Prodigy

I think one of my regrets is never seeing The Prodigy live, to experience their energy and enthusiasm. The band were popular at a time when I was understanding music more and developing my own taste, experiencing new sounds, new techniques and different genres. The mid-90s was a great time for this and somehow, The Prodigy managed to fit in while simultaneously remaining on the fringes.

To The Prodigy I must offer thanks. Although almost mainstream at the time, the band were still on the edge, pushing the envelope of acceptability and challenging the norm. The video for Firestarter was banned by the BBC at the time because of the level of complaints. There are no naughty words in the song (bitch aside) and the video itself doesn’t contain anything controversial other than a frontman who looked a little different, a hark back to the punk-70s/80s maybe.

But my thanks go to the collective because they introduced me to something different. They made my ears and brain listen, they taught me that music can be so much more than what I was used to. And they were a bit rude, which annoyed my parents no-end. I guess they were the Sex Pistols of their/my era.

They were The Prodigy. They did their own thing, their own way. Of course the band haven’t officially disbanded as I type, but the sudden departure of their frontman will leave a void that no other could even imagine of filling.

Goodbye Mr Flint, you self-inflicted, filth-infatuated, twisted animator.