There's a strange smell permeating the air in the Hammy Odeon as HAWKWIND are about to take to the stage, and you don't need me to tell you what that is!
Shit, I don't have a set list...er... I'm beginning to feel quite funny. I can see a few darkened figures milling around on stage; can't quite tell if it's the roadies or the band. Then suddenly the music starts against a large screen backdrop, which projects a myriad of weird and occasionally wonderful images.
Whatever you think of Hawkwind there is no doubt in their musicianship. Led by the illustrious Dave Brock, their cosmic sound is created by a variety of instruments, ranging from violins, tape machines, and a bank of keyboards/synths. The music is visually 'spacy' (like a good number of the audience no doubt), but often the more up-tempo moments are driven along by a bludgeoning, almost punky bass sound.
Hawkwind start getting morbid... Really HEAVY man! We are taken on a journey through the subconscious, and swamped with images of skeletal figures, blood-curdling demons, etc. It all evokes a kind of satanic mystique as the 'warriors on the edge of time; continue their journey through the galaxies and astral belts.
The band demonstrates a fondness for the post-apocalypse by constantly using an intro tape with the sound of a desolate, howling wind blended in with washy, watery keyboards that emulate all manner of strange effects. At this point my head starts spinning and my editor has turned purple.
Next thing I know, the darkened figures start shuffling off stage and it takes at least 5 minutes before the crowd suss out that they've gone off! The Hawks eventually shuffle back and would you believe it, display some dry humour in the shape of the backdrop which asks "Anybody asleep yet?"
They finish the show with - surprise surprise - "Hashish, Hashish." Well what can I say about that?
Mark Liddell
Riff Raff
Shit, I don't have a set list...er... I'm beginning to feel quite funny. I can see a few darkened figures milling around on stage; can't quite tell if it's the roadies or the band. Then suddenly the music starts against a large screen backdrop, which projects a myriad of weird and occasionally wonderful images.
Whatever you think of Hawkwind there is no doubt in their musicianship. Led by the illustrious Dave Brock, their cosmic sound is created by a variety of instruments, ranging from violins, tape machines, and a bank of keyboards/synths. The music is visually 'spacy' (like a good number of the audience no doubt), but often the more up-tempo moments are driven along by a bludgeoning, almost punky bass sound.
Hawkwind start getting morbid... Really HEAVY man! We are taken on a journey through the subconscious, and swamped with images of skeletal figures, blood-curdling demons, etc. It all evokes a kind of satanic mystique as the 'warriors on the edge of time; continue their journey through the galaxies and astral belts.
The band demonstrates a fondness for the post-apocalypse by constantly using an intro tape with the sound of a desolate, howling wind blended in with washy, watery keyboards that emulate all manner of strange effects. At this point my head starts spinning and my editor has turned purple.
Next thing I know, the darkened figures start shuffling off stage and it takes at least 5 minutes before the crowd suss out that they've gone off! The Hawks eventually shuffle back and would you believe it, display some dry humour in the shape of the backdrop which asks "Anybody asleep yet?"
They finish the show with - surprise surprise - "Hashish, Hashish." Well what can I say about that?
Mark Liddell
Riff Raff
January 1990
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