And take it they do with "The Fat Of The Land", a sledgehammer of an LP that takes all the band's many influences (punk, metal, hip hop, techno, rave - hell - there's even a bit of disco in there) and welds them up into a tight little jaggy metallic thing and chucks it up in the air. If you catch it, beware however: there's a couple of thorns on it.

The first of these is the by now infamous "Smack My Bitch Up". Why curse an almost instrumental - and absolutely storming - opening track with such a crap title? Are they trying to flirt with the gangsta market in America or what? I mean no-one expects the band to come up with sensitive and literary lyrics, but why potentially alienate a good few people from the off? Seems a bit daft to me. Putting the title aside, the track is a killer, with its crackling bass, undulating Eastern backing vocals and huge drums from Valhalla. Starting as they mean to go on, it gets the Prodigy manifesto ("we have come to scare the shit out of you with our big big noize") out in the open immediately. Straight into "Breathe" with its intense claustraphobia and after the first 10 minutes you need something to get your breath back...

This comes in the shape of "Diesel Power", a traditional rap attack with a slow (for the Prodigy) backing. Slightly threatening in an urban decay kind of way, it sets the scene nicely for "Funky Shit", an old school rave track, echoing stuff from the band's early days. Next up is "Serial Thrilla", an out-of-control metal monster that sees Keith spouting some amusing (but supposedly frightening) lyrics. "Taste me, succumb to me, succumb to the serial thrilla, serious killer" the pantomime gonk screams in his best cockernee punk way. This highlights the other problem with the band: that of their supposed bad attitude. I mean, c'mon - how can a band with a mascot as ridiculously and hilariously OTT as Keith be taken seriously? By having all the "I'm bad and I do bad things" themes in the songs, they are merely making themeselves look a little silly. A slight shame when the music itself is badass and mental enough as this.

"Mindfields" is next and is a superb disturbed stalker of a track, a close cousin to "Poison" and the most sinister thing on the whole LP. An eerie stabbed riff picks its way through a treacherous techno landscape as the vocals rather obviously state "this is dangerous". After this comes the Cripsian Mills from Kula Shaker collaboration. This actually works surprisingly well, and the daft hippy git sounds better here than he does at home in Kula Kastle. Echoing the Chemicals/Noel pairing of "Setting Sun" with its marriage of indie song structure and electronic beats, it is evocative and a highlight of the album. Even the mantra works.

After the incomparable "Firestarter" (still as vital and frothy-mouthed as ever) comes "Climbatize" with its discoball intro (told you) and complex rhythms. A little directionless, it is the weakest track on "The Fat Of The Land". The LP closes with the band's much vaunted L7 cover, "Fuel My Fire" and a more fitting ending you could not hope for. Taking a load of influences and styles and jumping up and down on them whilst spontaneously combusting, the track is a defiant and storming exit-and-thank-you-very-much.

"The Fat Of The Land" contains no surprises, some awesome electronic tornadoes ("Smack My Bitch Up", "Mindfields") and a couple of disappointments ("Smack My Bitch Up" - again - and "Climbatize"). As a crossover indie/rock/dance LP it is almost perfect however, and - like the Spice Girls and Boyzone wrestling naked in a barrel of jelly - should contain something for everyone. Perhaps not as daring and dangerous as it could have been, it is still a mighty and noisy candidate for one of the most important LPs of the year.