Released in 1997, ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ was the third and final single off the band’s album The Fat of the Land, produced by Liam Howlett. A song consisting of only eight words repeated over a layer of acid-like synth, which was cut, distorted, and re-pitched (and repeated), would gradually explain through a non-diegetic model that the gendered self can create illusions. In particular, a woman whose ‘fabrication organ’ can also be officious, harebrained, and callous can be replaced by the quirks of false feminism. Little did we know, that track was going to inject its listeners with the hypodermic needle theory from a very early age by a group of musicians already condemned by Hilary Clinton.
‘Smack My Bitch Up’ employs a sense of enigma that uses feminist scorn that stretches between narrative and aesthetic interaction. This turns on the moralisation switch, eroding gender reversals and proclaiming the very definition of the human predicament. Feminist groups were outraged by the ‘violent’ track and participated in a collective hallucination of misogyny, forgoing the song’s refrain’s ‘cultural competence’. That said, the line ‘Change my pitch up, smack my bitch up’ was sampled from Ultramagnetic MCs’ ‘Give the Drummer Some’, which was tainted with transparently misogynistic lyrics: ‘Smack my bitch up, like a pimp’. The track’s heavy breakbeats and synthesiser-generated loops and patterns, combined with a distorted voice, burning into the moral experience of gender role attitudes.
The music video can be seen as either a misogynistic rant, a feminist satire, or a combination of both. Depicting a night out in London, the video is filmed from a first-person perspective graphically introducing to viewers the protagonist’s heavy drinking, cocaine snorting, violent in fuelling, vomit ensuing and of course, the final hoorah of the night, sex with a stripper. The unedited version of the video, which is available online, includes scenes of partaking in needle candy, an old-fashioned drunk-hit-and-run, fights with men (and women), and girl-on-girl sex
It questions the ostracisation of an amoral nihilism, calling on ‘gender-switchers’ taking the protagonist’s identity, motivation, and background and mixing it through the inducement of vices in the act of gestures, movement, and lyrical inclination. The video itself was inspired by the opening sequence of Oscar-winning director Kathryn Bigelow’s 1995 film Strange Days. The female vocals on the track were supplied by singer Shahin Bader, and the harmony and lyrics were based on ‘Nana (The Dreaming)’, released in 1992 by Sheila Chandra. For a video with so much resentment, its paradoxically display proved some-what worthy. That inspiration netted the Prodigy two 1998 MTV Music Video Awards—for best dance video and best breakthrough video—beating Madonna, Garbage, Will Smith, and even the Backstreet Boys.
The Prodigy flipped the misogynist manosphere on its head. Not only did they expose the illicit opioid epidemic of the ’90s, which silenced some of the best grunge musicians of our time, such as Nirvana’s frontman, Kurt Cobain; they also highlighted certain lifestyle choices that conservatives and even some radical feminists considered moral failings, such as illicit substance use and especially the conservative’s views on homosexuality. The Prodigy’s use of provocative euphemism suggests that gender can also be internalised and externalised by the challenge of male dominance. Thus ‘smack’ turns into heroin, and ‘bitch’ transforms into a human vein.
From the opening scene of ‘Smack My Bitch Up’, the protagonist indulges in drugs, the video twists the facts of her wild night out on the town, and camera movements indicate her altered state of mind. All the tell-tale signs of politically incorrect bullshit that we see throughout this video is what makes it one of the greatest music videos of the ’90s.
The issue at hand is that those who object to this track and its accompanying video cannot look past the mythology of the female body’s fertile soil. With ‘Smack My Bitch Up’, the Prodigy created a work of satire that exudes a belief system that opposes or blinds those who wrongly interpret its perception, whether lyrically or visually. Juvenalian satire plays a major role in deconstructing the ideological framework, which eventually pitches a female-dominated medium against a male-dominated medium through ‘changing the pitch up’ from a misogynistic lyric to a feminist aesthetic. Just look at George Orwell’s 1945 allegorical novella Animal Farm, which sought to teach morality through dramatic irony. ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ is meant to be ironic; it is intended to provide a pillar for the feminist point of view to twist the facts of the status quo. And just like the animals in Orwell’s novel, the viewer is barred from knowing what is really going on in the protagonist’s mind besides getting wasted.
‘The band is categorically against violence against women or any kind of gratuitous violence’—The Prodigy
Even the Beastie Boys objected to the Prodigy playing this track at the 1998 Reading Festival, suggesting that it promoted violence against women. Thus, the Prodigy considered not playing their polarising hit—until the Beastie Boys went on stage and brought out dildos. So, as a fuck-you to the boys, the Prodigy went ahead and performed ‘Smack My Bitch Up’.
However, it can be claimed that the Beastie Boys were displaying the dildos in a way that promoted violence against women, but who really knows? Later on, the Beastie Boys found themselves in hot water when footage emerged of one of the members sticking his hands down the pants of a female fan with or without consent. However, regardless of whether those actions are forgivable, even the Beastie Boys transformed themselves from misogynistic pigs to participants of the feminist revolution.
The Prodigy were trying to prove a point. When they stated that the band had no intention of glorifying violence, they gave an example by referring to their other hit single, ‘Firestarter’, whose lyrics state: ‘I’m the trouble starter, punkin’ instigator, I’m the fear addicted, a danger illustrated, I’m a firestarter, twisted firestarter’. Keith Flint has insisted that the song was not about starting fires and hence was not meant literally, so, why does ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ necessarily mean being to be abusive towards women and not just abusive to one’s own vein or vainity?
In the context of the Prodigy’s video, it is easy to decipher the logic behind the protagonist’s morally corrosive character traits: sexuality is fluid, there is such a thing as sex-positive feminism, yet society not only doomed but absolutely perverted. It might not have been the Prodigy’s intention, but their track demolished incels’ misogynistic sense of humour rotting away in their sexist ideology of ‘the black pill’. The men in the video react to the protagonist’s actions with dismay and are subdued in their responses. These Easter eggs are hidden within the video’s scenes: the protagonist’s hands are shown as masculine, and early on, there is even a shot of her preparing to shave. Perhaps the perception of misogyny was to be cleansed by this character’s actions—washing away sins by committing other kinds of sins. That is the difference between essential feminism and ‘bad feminism’. What essential feminism requires from a woman falls into a similar dimension as the bragging rights of incels, but with a twist. The moral obligation is for women to be pious, submissive, and chaste. God forbid, they do not fall under this patriarchal admiration pattern, they are deemed horrid and bad. The protagonist in the video moves, looks, and behaves just like her male counterpart, demonstrating that sexual roles can pass freely between men and women and that the real distinction is between what society finds acceptable or unacceptable.
The Prodigy sets aside cultural masculinity and femininity and breaks down the traditional wall of misogynistic humour that makes it unacceptable to laugh at sexism. Another example that overlaps with this failed misogyny is the inclusion of homosexuality in the video. The video’s Swedish director, Jonas Åkerlund, has directed videos for artists such as Madonna, Blink-182, and Lady Gaga—artists who have also not been afraid to experiment with shock-factor aesthetics. He based the concept of the video on his own personal experience after a wild night out on the town in London.
‘So in England the feminists hated it, and in America the feminists loved it! I remember somebody sending me a tape of this show with a priest talking about it in England. And I was like, “What the fuck is going on?”’- Jonas Åkerlund
The video subverts radical feminist expressions and ideologies by allowing the protagonist to engage in sex, not cater to the male gaze, participate in pornography, and, in a humorous aside, shave. Essential feminism is personified by the heterosexual white female who does not like to shave. Perhaps there is a hint of truth in this satirical depiction of the hairy leg (or any other part of the female body). Whatever it is, ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ exploits this essential feminism by transforming the female journey into a collective experience, a human journey. It is also essential to recognise that feminism can be pursued in the wrong way.
‘Because sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, sometimes it’s actually a penis pretending to be a cigar, shoving itself down a woman’s throat.’- Danika Bloom
This anger needs to be taken down a notch, so we can appreciate the occasional one-two punch of feminist satire. Being a feminist is nothing to be ashamed of, and misogyny is a real problem, but this fear of categorisation must not be replaced by willful ignorance. This does not violate the morals and values of feminist activists such as Gloria Steinem (who also objected to this track). Still, this case demonstrates the power of art; according to a poll conducted by the Performing Right Society, the song is one of the most controversial of all time. It rejects humanity’s obsession with confining women to a cage.
‘Smack My Bitch Up’ recognises this hyperbole. The artists behind this concept understand that ‘women and men can play the same roles’. However, the Prodigy’s leader, DJ Liam Howlett, initially rejected the video’s final cut, finding it too intense, until his girlfriend (yes, a woman) found the tape, watched it, and approved of the aesthetic. The video glorifies many vices of society and does not, by any means, model suitable behaviour. A bigger picture is painted here, expressed by menacing acts and gender equality, that sustains the filtrate of male dissimilarity and re-introduces it into a feminine similarity. By excluding willful ignorance and painting this full picture, misogyny becomes deeply embedded in the culture, and that is the real problem. With this music video, Jonas Åkerlund took dysfunctional, institutionalised sexism and turned it on its pseudo-incel militant head. This video takes on violence against women but also underlines that violence exists within society. Letting go of this ego-boosting control and power and replacing it with a protagonist who is the equivalent of toxic masculinity is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The bouncers in the video, who are male, do not initiate any form of violence because of the gender of the protagonist.
The video is about letting one’s inner animal out of its cage. This feminist work seeks gender equality and promotes sex-positive feminism. Yes, the video highlights the dark side of toxic masculinity and provides a fierce critique of misogyny. Still, it balances that with the female’s power, making it one of the most controversial music videos of all time.
‘Smack My Bitch Up’ could always get away with being the ultimate expression of feminism. It would also make for a great karaoke song following a few shots of tequila before hitting the town and picking up some strippers. We must sometimes remind ourselves that women do, in fact, not only run with wolves but ARE the wolves.
‘Good women are charming, polite, and unobtrusive’—Roxane Gay
Miniature Malekpour is a Ph.D. scholar at the Australian National University and a contributing writer for Diabolique Magazine