Hawkwind - The Future Never Waits (Cherry Red Records)

Hawkwind. Sweet, sweet Hawkwind… Is there a band on the planet which is as at once so synonymous with one place (England, more specifically West London, if you didn’t know), whilst being so totally, gloriously not of this world? I don’t think so…

On their thirty fifth studio album, and with band leader Dave Brock approaching his mid eighties, Hawkwind have surely earned the right to do whatever they like. Which, to certain extent, is just what they do, moving easily from ambient, space-noise-assisted soundscapes (the title track, which opens the album with over ten minutes of easy-on-the-ear Hawknoise) through more traditional, bare-bones proto punk (The End, which, of course and unsurprisingly for such a singular band, comes near the start of the album), a spoken word sample on the death of Author Aldous Huxley to a sprawling, late night jazz odyssey (They Are So Easily Distracted) in the space of the first four tracks.

But of course none of it sounds jarring or out of place. It’s merely the Hawkwind way of doing things; Trapped In The Modern Age starts with a piece of electric piano that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on a Supertramp album before Brock joins in with that voice, the voice that makes something, however it sounds, whatever seam of music it mines, pure ‘Wind. It’s comforting to hear, of course – what will we do when it’s gone? – a voice so redolent of times past that one feels it’s been there forever and will continue to be so, broadcasting from earth into the far reaches of space even after we’ve all gone. It flits in and out of the intro to the woozy, guitar-led Outside of Time, hiding amongst the synth noises, making the listener question whether it’s even there at all before making itself more visible as Brock intones ‘will it be me or you? it won’t be me’ as menacing, seventies movie keys come to the fore. A classic piece of Hawkwind lead guitar breaks out of the somnolent murk, piercing the fog of dreaminess before that voice returns again in more recognisable form, leading the song home beautifully. If you enjoyed the band’s last album, Somnia, you’ll love this.

Rama (The Prophecy) punches it’s way out of the reverie in exuberant fashion, Richard Chadwick‘s drums pushing the track forward relentlessly as Brock launches a beautiful guitar and vocal assault and Magnus Martin‘s keys glitter alluringly in the background. This is ‘proper’ Hawkwind, to be sure, and I have to say it sounds glorious, reeling back the years in an almost effortless way – I guess when your sound has become ‘timeless’ that’s not such a hard thing to do, but as the track fades out into space it’s hard to stop the grin spreading across your face at what you’ve just heard…

Guess what? The final track on the album’s a piece of black-humoured dystopia called – wait for it – The Beginning, but to get there you’ll first have to wallow in the superb, heavy space rock of I’m Learning To Live Today, which might prompt memories of the much-missed Huw Lloyd-Langton amongst those who know; Even if it doesn’t it’s hard to resist as a bit of stand-alone, hypnotic rock n’roll in it’s own right, but that’s just part of another rich tapestry of sound that Hawkwind have created with The Future Never Waits. A truly immersive piece of work that reveals more of itself with each listen, it’s easily – to my fevered mind at least – the best thing this band has come up with in decades. Bravo!