It's a tame pre-gig affair for the Prodigy. There's none of the practical joking from Leeroy that usually surrounds proceedings. Indeed there's little of the band's usual good humour full stop. The normally jocular gang appear distant from each other; the beers, chocolate, fruit and cereal on the rider are barely touched. But then again, after you've played in Beirut and with dates in Chile, Argentina and Brazil to come, what buzz can Belgium possibly offer?
"I couldn't believe the reviews of T in the Park," complains Gizz. "I reckon we did a really good gig but the press slated us. Just because we didn't do any new stuff. But the thing is, we want to play in Britain because no matter where we play, the home audience is always the best. British crowds are fucking brilliant. Not like LA or wherever, where they're all too cool." Playing for the "too cool" audiences in Hollywood is one of the downfalls for a band who have made a point of playing anywhere there's an interest. However it's a policy which has had its rewards. "A lot of bands, especially from where we were coming from, wouldn't play in places that were out of the way," says Liam. "Like some of the really smaller places and countries that we've been to. But we did and people were like 'Shit, we don't get many bands here', which really stumped us. But we went there, it rocked, we got the right reaction and we owe it to those people to go back there again." Which is how the band whose last album outsold Radiohead's 'OK Computer' by a gigantic eight to one, whose total UK sales for the first week of the album's release was more than the sales of the rest of the chart put together and who topped the charts in 22 countries, come to be playing in a town best known for a ferry disaster.
It's a stripped down Prodigy that take to the stage without the theatrical over-indulgence. Things had gone too far in that direction, they reckon, and Keith even got stuck in that hamster ball once. Maxim had problems too: "I had this metal gauntlet but it made me sweat loads, so I wore surgical gloves underneath," he explains. "The only problem is my hand had shrivelled like it had been in a sauna for like two months. The girl who made me the gauntlet had this idea of making me a breastplate and turning me into a warrior but I thought that would be too much. It'd be like 'Look what Maxim's got on now - he's got a shield and a spear in his hand and he's come on in a fucking chariot'. All four of us have realised that although there's a theatrical element there, we don't need props. It's just raw energy that we need."
And raw energy is what they give. Against all odds the Prodigy crank up the breaks machine and give a performance which is is fuelled with the same kind of of brash, synapse-snapping beat manoeuvring which has marked out their finest shows. Opening with a downtempo break lifted from a Run DMC track, Liam instantly aligns the Prodigy with his hip hop roots. The intro gives way to long time live fave 'Rock N' Roll' which finds Maxim stalking the stage, psyching up the crowd, knee length fake fur boxing-gown fluttering in the breeze, while Keith Flint jumps on the spot, arms outstretched before gobbing at the front row.