NEW YORK -- Stunning light displays. An apocalyptic set

exploding in tattered canvas. Hypnotic footwork delivered by dancer

Leroy Thornhill.

And over-the-top interplay between lead characters Keith Flint and

Maxim Reality.

Prodigy's show at the Hammerstein Ballroom on Tuesday night

showcased the U.K. electronic dance group's knack for lifting its

performances to the level of pure theater. That's theater in the most

dazzling sense.

All of the band's dynamic stage tricks were delivered in a blur of

tightly woven techno-textures, hip-hop rhythms and punkish rock

energy, from their performance of the ever-popular and once

controversial

HREF="http://www.addict.com/music/Prodigy/Smack_My_Bitch_Up.r

am">"Smack My Bitch Up" (RealAudio excerpt) to Flint's nasal

screeches.

On this last stop of an eight-city American mini-tour, horn-headed

Flint launched the hour-long, sold-out show by teasing the crowd in a

vulgar, yet strangely endearing Sex Pistols-style maneuver: walking

on stage, demanding "Who wants it?" then extending a middle finger

to the delighted audience before departing (a routine he has used in

previous shows).

Prodigy bandmate Maxim (a.k.a. Keith Palmer) appeared moments

later, dressed in his trademark kilt and high boots. In no time, the

band was off and roaring through a set that touched on "Rock 'N Roll"

(a song Prodigy only play live) and included the hits

HREF="http://www.addict.com/music/Prodigy/Firestarter.ram">

"Firestarter" (RealAudio excerpt), "Breathe," "Minefield" and

"Funky Shit" -- off its double-platinum 1997 album, The Fat of the

Land -- and "Poison" -- from its 1995 LP, Music for a Jilted

Generation.

With guitarist Gizz Butt occasionally venturing upstage and Prodigy

founder Liam Howlett hidden in the dark behind decks, it was up to

Maxim

and Flint to provide the show with raucous energy.

They delivered it, and then some.

Still, 24-year-old Peter Mullen, who liked the show, said he thought

that it lacked the kind of spontaneous energy that he'd witnessed at

U.K. concerts. "Maybe the fame has made 'em a bit lazy," he said. "But

they've still got something ... I think people are reacting to them the

same way people reacted when the Doors played their live shows --

it's totally exciting to see."

Among the sights and sounds was Flint's nasal screeching colliding

with Maxim's growled shouts to abrasive effect on

HREF="http://www.addict.com/music/Prodigy/Breathe.ram">

"Breathe" (RealAudio excerpt). The pain produced pure

pleasure, judging from the crowd's enthusiastic response.

Maxim shone on "Narayon," a hypnotic, stylish song that delivered

rocking funk vocals and heavy bass while showcasing Prodigy's

ability to blur the lines between electronica and funk.

Flint, who was not in sight nearly as much as cohort Maxim,

nevertheless

made his presence known when he ran onstage like a ghoul, spitting

water at

audience members, cocking his head maniacally and at one point

jumping

into the audience to body-surf among the packed, wall-to-wall

crowd.

The night's biggest hit, without question, was "Smack My Bitch Up,"

played near the end of the set.

It was "Smack My Bitch Up" that last year caused more than 5,000

Kmart and Wal-Mart stores to pull The Fat of the Land album

off their shelves because of its graphic and potentially offensive

content. And it was the "Smack My Bitch Up" video that MTV pulled

off its rotation after pressure mounted.

And on this night, it was "Smack My Bitch Up" that inspired the

crowd to party.

Women's advocacy groups, led by feminist Gloria Steinem, protested

the

songs' lyrics -- a line sampled from the Ultramagnetic MC's 1988

track "Give the Drummer Some" that goes, "Change my pitch up/

Smack my bitch up." Prodigy leader Howlett defended the song in a

SonicNet Music News interview last year, calling it a tribute to

the MC's and remarking, "If people think that song is about smacking

girlfriends up, then they're pretty brainless."

The controversy has either been totally forgotten or -- just as likely

-- completely embraced, since virtually the entire Hammerstein

crowd danced deliriously to

the number.

In one part of the mezzanine, a young couple danced together

erotically, the boyfriend jokingly pretending to smack his girlfriend

across the face, to her apparent amusement.

It seems that all the commotion did nothing to discourage fans'

enjoyment of the tune, or Prodigy, for that matter.

"Everyone was so into that song," said 20-year-old Dede, a New

Yorker who would not give her last name. "It got so much negative

publicity that everyone wanted to hear it."

Smack that up.