What with Hawkwind enjoying a career renaissance, Dave Brock lashed to their helm like an indomitable, string-flaying, Old Man Of The Sea Of Tranquility, it’s increasingly hard not to regard today’s Hawklords as simply surplus to requirements. That said, with Harvey Bainbridge herein and Nik Turner perpetually occupying a naughty step elsewhere, who are the one true Hawks? Existential crises aside, are the ’Lords ultimately worthy of a noble name bequeathed to them, via Bainbridge, from an original 1978 line-up that included Calvert, King and Brock himself? Album opener Ghost In The Machine is irresistibly reminiscent ofSpirit Of The Age, which is both a relief and a disappointment. Obviously you want a familiarly Hawkish hook, but it never bodes well, especially this early in a relationship with an album, to be whispering another’s name to a song, even as it’s taking you to climax. With swirling keyboards, mesmeric crescendos and cosmic repetition, Mind Crime is immense, New Space soars before Whisper’s Downfall throttles back, prefacing closer Los Cavatina’s trippy squall. Two Hawks? Better than one.