Hawkwind to end the week – recorded at The Michigan Palace in Detroit on March 23, 1974.
Seems only fitting to end an otherwise strange and unnerving week with something musical and overwhelming. Hawkwind seem to fit that bill at tlhe moment.
Hard to imagine it’s been 57 years since they first appeared and 56 years since their debut album came out. At last count, they’ve gone through some 30 personnel changes, a few direction changes – taking stabs at free-form Jazz, Prog, hard-rock, metal, electronica. I think they only things they haven’t decided to tackle are Classical and Country. But since Hawkwind are still together (with founder Dave Brock as the only original member still standing), there’s always a chance that could change.
In the early days it was the band to take Speed to and stay up for days, blowing your headphones out. Being fried and putting Silver Machine on endless repeat were naturals. But times change and tastes change and visiting Hawkwind again is like going to the High School reunion where the operative phrase is “what was I thinking?” – not that we’ve necessarily grown away from what Hawkwind were originally about, but how we subjected ourselves to the endless onslaught of 150 db attacks most likely explain why our hearing is shot.
But being reminded that getting as close to the PA system and having your lungs vibrate wildly was a virtue and not a vice of the 70s. And Hawkwind were just the ticket. And considering we are currently enveloped in a state of madness, being distracted for an hour or so by a sonic assault is probably viewed as a sanity saver and not a Testosterone workout.
Too bad America didn’t take Hawkwind to its collective consciousness that the UK and the rest of Europe did initially. Looking back on their tour archive from the early period, they stayed pretty much around homebase and didn’t venture too often to this side of the Atlantic. All the more reason this particular concert is such a rarity and virtually impossible to find even remotely sounding this good. Other attempts at the clandestine recording of Hawkwind concerts were made via a dictation mike into a cassette machine hidden under a winter jacket and usually accompanied by a room full of drunks and consumptives. The final result would be a thick slab of audio sludge you would need a clairvoyant to sort out which song was being played.
So this concert is a miracle – it has been issued (not officially) and is a reminder of what made Hawkwind so special during those formative days.
And if you were looking for a respite and something to distract you, even for an hour – this is where you should be.
Oh, and here comes the weekend . . .
