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What gusts of confusion seem to blow in the falcon’s wind.
The power of the photons from the gigantic lights of success seems to have diverted Hawkwind's spaceship towards an abyss, a black hole. Cohesion is what is needed on a personal level, so that egos are not launched like rockets toward higher galaxies. But to resurrect the cosmic phoenix of the group is an idea of David Brock: all under the same roof, hooray! Brock, Lemmy, Nik Turner, Del Dettmar, Simon King, Simon House, Stacia, writer Michael Moorcock... The group lifestyle becomes quite lysergic, more than usual. Dave Brock sleeps in the kitchen because there’s no room, Lemmy goes into a state of apparent death after a three-day amphetamine vigil. Del Dettmar says enough: the space trip becomes too confusing, also because he is the one who constantly repairs the locks and doors that everyone breaks (because the house keys are constantly lost), poor devil. He takes off: thus, after the previous departure of Dik Mik, the second astronaut of synthesizers and space electronics also leaves.
David Brock at this point tries everything to compact. He surprisingly hires a second drummer, Alan Powell, and the confusion seems never-ending. It will be Brock who holds the synths, from now on, The sidereal space of Hawkwind’s sound therefore becomes a little more terrestrial: no longer perpetually engulfed from a sonic point of view by the eternal comet trail, but still very space-rock. Under this star, "Warrior On The Edge Of Time" is born.
Are the galactic splendors of previous space odysseys concluded then? Not quite. The spaceship has lost altitude but in the studio withstands the asteroids' impact of external events, giving us a good job. Certainly not perfect: the album's very name seems highly prophetic, as does the mediocre song Standing On The Edge. And then there's this presence of Moorcock, desperately trying to order David Brock's metamorphic concept idea, vaguely outlined on "The Eternal Champion", a work by Moorcock himself. An idea that changes every dawn, according to the writer/collaborator, which he himself declares with his narrative intrusions in The Wizard Blew His Horn and Warrior, (Yawn!) the "sleep" segment of the album. But then a star appears. Not the usual enjoyable rides of Magnu and Assault and Battery. No, much more: shining bright like a supernova The Demented Man, with its lunar atmospheres, forming this absurdly superlative soundscape. Also concise and excellent tracks Kings Of Speed, The Golden Void Part 2. And then Opa-Loka, which irritates Lemmy so much that he doesn't even play on it. "This is what happens when you let drummers create," he bursts out, with his usual finesse.
Lemmy is not satisfied at all: in open conflict with the band, he is discharged taking advantage of his arrest on tour, due to the authorities' mistaking his (legit) amphetamines for cocaine. The band leaves him to his fate, and in revenge, he mischievously takes half of the group's equipment. He leaves slamming the door and shouting: "What a shitty album!" He leaves only one song, Motorhead, considered by Brock and company nothing more than a bonus track to put on the remastered version of the CD, but which, with the umlaut in the right place, will be all of Lemmy's life to follow.
Even the group's statuesque Amazon, Stacia, seems to have had enough: at the end of the tour supporting "Warrior On The Edge Of Time", she says goodbye to everyone and retires to private life.
David Brock, however, continues his course and firmly holds the reins of the group, as he has always done. Beyond the critics' judgments, which already wrinkle their noses sensing the stench of colliding with the satellite of failure, the leader of Hawkwind declares himself satisfied and adds that during that period, Hawkwind was at its peak. Well, maybe not peak, but in any case, they will later navigate much fiercer galaxies.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
03 The Wizard Blew His Horn (01:57)
The Great Hound Barked
And the world turned white
The Great Hound Sighed
And the forest died
The Wizard Blew His Horn
The Wizard Blew His Horn
The snow snake hissed
And the world turned round
The snow snake grinned
In his fine cold sin
When The Wizard Blew His Horn
The Wizard Blew His Horn
The horse wept blood
And the earth did groan
The tall horse reared
From a lake of tears
To seek a Champion
To seek a Champion
The world was bleak
And the Earth did fear
The Wizard's Horn
The magic Horn
So it screamed for a champion
It screamed for a champion
The eagle laughed
And the world grew black
It stretched giant claws
And it snatched the Law
And the Champion stirred in his sleep
The Champion stirred in his sleep
05 The Demented Man (03:57)
The questions asked but never known,
The feeling governs which way I'll go
Endless circles on my mind spiralling a downward climb
Which way I'll go.
The thoughts are there for you to find, but you never
know which way I'll go
Those flashing lights are warning me
But ever bidding voices see
You're caught in a web of emptiness
The tales told the path you tread
Does it lead into your head?
Or back to a world of emptiness?
Smiling faces watching me
Helping hands just wait and see
Which way I'll go
White walls stretching in the sun
Was it here that I began?
Which way I'll go
Faintly voices plead with me, ever asking ever see
which way I'll go.
06 Magnu (08:21)
Magnu, horse with golden mane, I want your help yet once
again,
Walk not the earth but fly through space as lightning flash
or thunders race
Swift as the arrow from the bow, come to me so that no one
can know.
Sunbeams are my shafts to kill all men who dare
imagine ill,
Deceit that fears the light of day fly from the glory
of my ray,
Good minds open and take new light until we diminish
by the reign of night
A burning brand was seen to fall, it lit the
darkness of the hall,
The flying hoofbeats circling in, come to me and
let us spin.
07 Standing at the Edge (02:39)
We're standing on the edge
The edge of time
And it is dark, so dark on the edge of time
And we're tired of making love
We are the lost, we are the ravaged
We are the unkind
We are the soldiers at the edge of time
And we're tired of making love
Where are our children
Where are our fathers
Where is our desire
And it's cold, so cold on the edge of time
Where is our joy
Where is our hope
Where is our fire
And it's cold, so cold on the edge of time
We are the the lost, we are the forgotten
We are the undying
We are the soldiers at the edge of time
The veterans of a thousand psychic wars
We are ths soldiers at the edge of time
The victims of the savage truth
We are the soldiers at the edge of time
And we're tired of making love
09 Warriors (01:57)
We are the warriors at the edge of time
We are Humanity's scythe to sweep this way and that
And cut the Enemy down as weeds
We are Humanity's spade to dig up the roots wherever they have grown
We are Humanity's fire to burn the waste to the finest ash
We are the wind which will blow the ash away
As if it had never existed
We will destroy those Enemies
But we must first know the Enemies
And the Enemies are the devils that hide in our minds
And make us less than happy
They make us less than happy
We are the warriors at the edge of time
We are the veterans of a savage truth
We are the lost
We are the last
We are the betrayed
We are the betrayed
We are the betrayed................
12 Motorhead (03:12)
*Written by Lemmy of Motorhead when he was in Hawkwind.
This was also the first rock song to feature the word "Paralellogram"
in its lyrics. Not a lot of people know that.
Sunrise wrong side of another day
Sky-high and six thousand miles away
Don't know how long I've been awake
Wound up in an amazing state
Can't get enough and you know its righteous stuff
Goes up like prices at Christmas
Motorhead
You can call me Motorhead alright
Braindead total amnesia
Get some mental anaesthesia
Don't move, I'll shut the door and kill the lights
I guess I'll see ya all on the ice
All good clean fun, have another stick of gum
Man you look better already
Motorhead
You can call me Motorhead, alright
Fourth day, five day marathon
We're moving like a parallelogram
Don't move, I'll shut the door and kill the lights
If I can't be wrong, I must be right
I should be tired, and all I am is wired
Ain't felt this good for an hour
Motorhead,
You can call me Motorhead, all night.
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