Serge Pizzorno, Kasabian

I discovered the Prodigy through Experience, back in 1992. There used to be a rave record store in Leicester called 5HQ – quite a frightening place, a bit like in Human Traffic. We used to hang around in there. I think they were playing Charly: I bought it, took it home and played it on my decks for days. It just didn’t really sound like anything else. There was a tribal quality to the beat. Somehow it was aggressive like punk – it had an edge that other things around the time didn’t. But it also had a pop sensibility. It really felt commercial even though it wasn’t. We were rave kids with the baggies and the T-shirts, but Keith was next level. He was always well dressed, a real one-off – you could see where everything came from but he had his twist on it. They’re the ones that last.



I think the first time we met him was at V festival. It’s always quite nerve-racking when you meet someone you really admire. You think people are gonna be more mad, more like the person they were on stage, but he was gentle, sweet, encouraging. That was the beautiful thing – he was really interested in the music we were making. When we made the second record, he came down to the session and he was so supportive. We could see it was nice for him, maybe, to see through the eyes of someone going through it again. He’d been there and done it, and he saw these young kids doing the same thing. I’d always go and see them live, so I’d see him backstage, fleetingly, but it always felt like he had our backs, which was amazing, considering that it was him that made us wanna do it ourselves. I’m heartbroken, really. It stops you in your tracks.

Flint performing at T in the Park, 12 July 2015. Photograph: Amy Muir/REX/Shutterstock

Jimmy Page

When Prodigy first came on the scene, their work was like an adrenaline injection sorely needed within the musical landscape. The music was exciting and Keith Flint brought an incredible, dangerous persona to deliver the lyrics with an arresting attitude. Keith’s performance both on stage and in the band’s videos was always electrifying. I’ll miss his bravado and what was clearly, by my standards, some of the best music of yesterday and still today.

Clint Mansell

It’s with deep sadness that I hear of Keith’s passing. As the singer in Pop Will Eat Itself, I crossed paths with the Prodigy a number of times over the years – from the early rave gig days pre-Charly and when we did vocals and guitar for Their Law, to name a couple. The band had a huge impact on me and my work, and whenever we met they were always sweet and generous to us.

My overriding memory of Keith is around the Jilted Generation era when he would come on stage in the big plastic bubble and writhe around in it on top of the audience – full on! It was so energetic, so much fun, so vibrant; the music they made together has enriched us all and given us such an incredible energy blast and, above all, such love. My thoughts go out to the entire Prodigy family, and I am sending huge love and respect to Keith for lighting up this world with his fire.

If it were not for your fear I could not learn to be fearless ... You gave me options when I felt there were none Azealia Banks on Keith Flint

Azealia Banks

A hero. Thank you for your raw honesty. Because if it were not for your fear I could not learn to be fearless. Were it not for your truths, I would never have found the answers. If not for your voice, I wouldn’t know how to be Yung Rapunxel. You’re responsible for fundamental elements of my creative expression. I will never forget meeting you down in Australia – the opportunity to even stand on stage with you was a once in a lifetime opportunity I consider myself lucky to have had. You gave me options when I felt there were none. My angel, my hero, dear Saint Keith. Always and forever.

Annie Nightingale

The Prodigy were to me the Who of the 90s onwards. Exciting and dangerous to watch. The sound of rave, of the huge surge of the acid house generation breaking out. The sound of generators in far-flung fields, of getting under the fence at Glastonbury. The sound of jeering at pompous MPS brayingly grandstanding to put through the ludicrous Criminal Justice Act, the “repetitive beats” Bill. The Prog were techno, punk, big beat, they were electronica, named after a synthesiser. Even with the first “gimmicky” hit Charley, with its samples from a Central Office of Information film, beloved by grinning acid house clubbers, the Prodigy had an intense uncontainable energy. With Firestarter, they really did ignite with blast force.

I can still remember exactly where I was when Keith’s “I’m the firestarter / The twisted firestarter” came blistering out of the ghettoblaster speakers. It nearly knocked me across the room. Yes there were genuine concerns, never really satisfied for me about Smack My Bitch Up. Was it glorifying domestic abuse? Or was it about heroin? Or both? Yet they never gave the impression of being about cheap shock.

There was a melodic richness there, and they weren’t just contained by the 90s. It wasn’t just music for a jilted generation. They headlined major festivals until the present day. Out of Space and Breathe remain dance classics, dropped into mixes and remixed by generation after generation of DJs and producers. The Prodigy’s success endured. None of it could have happened without a unique frontman in Keith Flint. He drew drama out of the music, scarily, entertainingly. A master of stagecraft. We need rebellious, challenging music like that of the Prodigy so much more right now.

Frank Turner

The Prodigy were the band that opened my ears to electronic music. As a kid I had the typical disdain of a metaller for anything featuring drum machines and synthesisers; when Fat of the Land dropped, it blew my mind wide open. It showed me that “dance” music could be just as heavy, heavier even, than anything I’d been listening to before.

I was lucky enough to catch them live a couple of times in recent years and their show was incomparable. I will not forget the sight of Keith making 40,000 Germans bounce at the same time, the very earth shaking beneath my feet. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

The Prodigy: Firestarter – video

Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons, Chemical Brothers

We’re so sad to hear of the passing of Keith. We played a lot of gigs with the Prodigy over the years and they were always friendly and supportive. he was an amazing frontman and the pure jolt of adrenaline that was Firestarter will not be forgotten.

A few memories that stick out: Keith came on stage during our gig at the Astoria. It was such a buzz that he was there leading the rave, but while dancing, he kicked the mixing desk plug out and all the sound went off. He just stood there defiant with the crowd going crazy. The feeling was that it didn’t matter: he was Keith from the Prodigy and he could whatever the fuck he wanted.

We also have a clear image of Keith at a festival in Australia. They had just played a massive headline show and absolutely rocked it. We were running around and larking about, and there was Keith in his towelling robe, eating cornflakes outside his dressing room. For some reason, it’s an image that has stuck with us. I think it made us realise that maybe this is how you navigate it: you can be the firestarter to the most extreme extent on stage, but you must also be the cornflakes and towelling robe guy. He was a true original and he will be missed.

Flint performing during the open-air music festival in St Gallen, Switzerland, 28 June 2008. Photograph: Ennio Leanza/EPA

Rou Reynolds, Enter Shikari

I was introduced to the Prodigy when I was a staunch rock kid. It was solely Keith’s feverish punk spirit that lured me into the world of dance music, which then opened up my musical horizons overall. He was a thrilling performer – iconic and fervent – but he was also a truly warm and gentle presence off stage. We toured with the Prodigy throughout Europe during our fledgling years and Keith immediately shattered my assumption that big stars would be arrogant and aloof. He was so friendly and approachable and was incredibly passionate and knowledgable about music. The other Shikari guys and I send our love to all his family and friends.

Gary Numan

I can’t say I knew Keith very well, but on the few occasions I did meet him he was fun, gentle and good to be around. What I do know is that he was one of the most dynamic, exciting and iconic frontmen I’ve ever seen. A powerhouse of energy and attitude on stage. To say he will be greatly missed is an epic understatement. This is a truly sad and demoralising day. Rest in peace, Keith.

Andy C

Such an incredibly sad day, a massive loss. He was a gentleman, one of the nicest people you could ever meet and one of the greatest frontmen of all time. One of my favourite memories was watching him rock out with the band side of stage in Estonia last summer. It was a masterclass. A true icon of the rave generation.

Keith Flint performing at Radio 1’s Big Weekend at Lydiard Park in Swindon in 2009. Photograph: Yui Mok/PA

Ben Drew, Plan B

He was the visual aesthetic of my youth, the standout image of coolness and rebellion. I was about eight years old when I saw the front cover of Music for the Jilted Generation amongst my childminder’s CDs. I remember thinking, “What the hell is that?” The first song she played me was Poison. In those days we had The Box on cable TV, so I saw the video: Keith was squirming around with rats in what looked like black tar, and I was fucking mesmerised. When The Fat of the Land came out and the Firestarter video was everywhere, suddenly this band I’d been telling all my school friends about were unavoidable, and Keith was at the centre of it.

No band has affected the world the way they have. They still remain the bar that the rest of dance music attempts to reach, and so far – for me – no one has come close to what they achieved both musically or aesthetically. Every single element of that group is as valuable as the other. To lose any one of them so early on would be a devastating loss, but to lose Keith is a real fucking kick in the teeth. His presence will forever be felt and the records he recorded will never be equalled or surpassed. He was a unique individual that inspired me more than anyone will ever understand.

Miranda Sawyer

Keith Flint was a brilliant dancer, and dancing was what rave was about. Without dancing, raves are just someone playing tunes to a group of people standing around getting trashed. That strange, visceral connection between music, DJ and crowd is all in the dancing – Flint understood that and took that onstage. When rave first arrived, there was a lot of talk about tribalism, transcendentalism and shamanic rhythms. Flint really was that shamen. He embodied adrenalin, rebellion, that unbelievable rush you can only get when everyone in the same room is going through the same rush as you. He was a living catalyst. I think if aliens had landed in the middle of a Prodigy gig, they would have thought that Keith was actually our god.

Eaddy, Ho99o9

Usually I’m able to hold myself back from tears of any sort, but this morning has been very overwhelming and heart-wrenching. Almost two years ago, a mutual friend connected us with the Prodigy; the track we made together became one of the most furious songs on their new album. We were very honoured, and excited to have the opportunity to tour the UK with them: it was only a few months ago we were backstage cracking jokes and telling each other stories. He was so kind and down to earth, and a real gentleman. It frightens me to lose my brother on stage and in life. Thank you, Keith Flint, for the inspiration: from the way you dress, to your attitude, to your voice on stage and all the glorious records over the years. May you rest easy, my friend. My condolences to his team, crew, family, Liam and Max.