HAWKLORDS: 25 YEARS ON

One of the greatest thrills of engaging the progressive genre to the fullest (and I must concede that I have been doing just that for the past 39 years!) is invariably finding that rock jewel on the road that many fans do not find that extraordinary. Well some do need further furious polishing and we all have some in our collections that fall into that unjust category. Perhaps because our refined tastes are fueled by so many intangibles that simply do not exist as starkly as in prog, we can be fatally attracted by the haunting melodies, the impossible mood, the profound lyrics and even the epic concept. I loved this record from day one , knowing full well that it was miles removed from masterpieces such as Space Ritual, In the Hall of the Mountain Grill and the spectacular Warrior on the Edge of Time. It has been loosely criticized as an Ultravox deep electronic space rip-off , as if that was bad!?! First let me say that Ultravox only predated Hawklords by a few months and that the John Foxx-led version remains one of my fave outfits (prog or no prog!) anyway . I have been (at times in deep desperation) searching for this CD release as I cannot use my vinyls anymore (Stylus search) and having been pining to hear "Only the Dead Dreams", "The Age of the Micro-Man" and "Freefall", as well as the rockier punk-laced tunes such as "PSI Power" , "25 Years On", "Flying Doctor" . I finally found a spanking new Extended Deluxe Edition 2CD set through Greg Walker's Syn-Phonic prog label. Am I happy, wot? Bloody delirious, I say! Yes we are far from the usual Brock fueled riff-heavy space excursion, the tracks being clearly influenced by the lyrical genius of Robert Calvert , a match to Michael Moorcock as far as music goes, and delivered with a fury that belies the now legendary ultra-extreme nature of the Hawkwind lead lung. "PSI Power" rollicks on with precisely that über-attitude, a fabulous intro that knocks and rocks, in that very peculiar English way! From the liner notes, one can get an idea of the weird exaltations that haunted Calvert's mind:" Harvey Bainbridge went to Calvert's house, where he found the singer and lyricist dressed in World War 1 officer's uniform". Ughh! The majestic "Freefall" is a synth and bass ride that swirls at the fingers of Steve Swindells and then suddenly diving into a gloomy groove, the hypnotic Bainbridge bass pummeling along, Brock unleashing a driving riff while the drums are kindly adhering to the mind drive. Calvert gently floats about in psychedelic verbiage, tumbling words that reach for the abyss. Slow and gentle, sentimental, as Ferry would say. "Automaton" is a weird yet brief electronic oddity, that serves as a moody intro to the title track, a punkoid/psychotic rocker that bops along in dissonant chicanery, boom, boom, boom... A chugging piece of hiccup brutality that still incites rebellion, to these ears anyway! Brock takes "Flying Doctor" on a heavenly guitar ride, the hard-space we all love and enjoy but laced with that disturbed mind that was Calvert. Drummer Martin Griffin pounds mightily, bravely thus emulating the massive Simon King. "The Only Ones" is a dreamy, almost West Coast psychedelia-infused that rambles on breathlessly, Calvert showing a seamless voice, proving that he could sing not just rant about the human condition. "Only the Dead Dreams..." is a Cold War discourse on the paranoia of living under the threat of nuclear obliteration, masterfully sung and penned by Calvert , propelled by a simple Simon King drum beat, swooping synths and rolling bass grooves. A masterpiece tune that has been one of my "hummers", for so many decades now. Without any mercy, the majestic "The Age of the Micro Man" comes shining through the electronic mist with swooning vocals that contemplate, as per liner notes, "the future of human beings being, pawns in the game of mechanized industry." Amazing! Disc one offers three bonus tracks, a single version of "Psi Power", a madcap piece called "Death Trap" that booms along deliriously and a single remix of the title track. Disc 2 offers a live setting for 5 quirky tunes, now calling themselves The Sonic Assassins (keyboards handled by Paul Hayles as the only change) and tossing in a memorable Hawkwind piece as well, the imperial "Magnu". Heavy microphone stands not withstanding (weird!), Calvert kicks this in the teeth of those who attended this show, drooling like a maniac on "Over the Top", a bizarre space dirge that squawks along asunder, showcasing almost spooky Joy Division-like schizophrenia (Calvert died from a heart attack in 1988, 43 years of rage, a tortured soul in too many ways to comprehend). "Magnu" possesses an even rawer edge (was already the case on "Warrior"), a cosmic pile driver that batters unrelenting, a deep sonic attack displaying no mercy or pity. Brock tortures his guitar fiendishly, while the others prance in delirium. The innocuous segue into the short "We are Angels of Life, Angels of Death" is seamlessly inserted. The live version of "Freefall" is ever bit as exhilarating as the studio version, more room to spread the Hawk's wings armed with Bainbridge's way up front bass, leading the charge. Calvert expressing his perspiring fears and lunatic traumas with utter conviction, less sedate when I saw him live with Hawkwind (Lemmy's last show). Obviously the nascent punk phenomenon only further incited his musical vision, shoving him into even deeper introspection. This live version certainly evokes the creepier manifestations that were simply not showcased on the rather clinical studio take. "Hello Earth" indeed! "Death Trap" is even wilder in an audience-soaked setting, pure rage and spitting anger that veers rigid into punk land, Brock riff slashing like madman (he is odd too, ya know!). The remaining disc contains assorted revisits, some entirely acoustic, secondary takes, demos, rehearsal stabs etc?as well as "Assassination" and "Digger Jam". Obviously put together with deep respect and care, the packaging and the extensive liner notes hint at a reverence that is truly deserved. This album (and one shot deal) retains its podium as a unique and hence timeless exercise that dared to foresee a certain musical future, at a junction when everything was topsy-turvy in rock land. I am deeply relieved to have this in my collection. So I am not in the majority! Thanks, Robert RIP. 5 blowing interstellar falcons.