(review n pix by mwj)
It was lying on a moonscape volcanic beach over Easter that I was temporarily transported via a satellite transmission to a conversation I’d had in space ship on another world, asking me to return to the source of the sound and light waves. Or, Paul texted me in Tenerife reminding we had talked while in El’s camper van at Hammerfest about going to see Hawkwind again, and as I fought through the collective haze of Oranjeboom and rhubarb wine there and 1euro a litre San Miguel here the scattered memories came back to me, and with them my original excitement and conviction to go. The main factor being this time they were airing in its entirety “Warrior at the Edge of Time” due to its imminent re-release and this being my favourite album of theirs. So I strapped on the jetpack and headed to the northern lights. Via passport control.
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