Marking thirty years since their seminal debut, 1977, Northern Irish rock veterans Ash return with their ninth studio album, Ad Astra, set for release on October 3rd. The record signals a renewed creative lift, fuelled in part by a high-profile collaboration with Blur guitarist Graham Coxon. After navigating the natural ebb and flow of a long career, Ash sound profoundly revitalised, choosing energetic, joyous rock over the weight of artistic solemnity. This playful confidence is reinforced by the album’s space motif, a colourful and lighthearted aesthetic that stands in deliberate contrast to the more sombre cultural narratives of cosmic exploration.
The journey launches boldly with “Zarathustra,” which draws on Richard Strauss’s iconic theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey. It’s a cinematic opener that sets an ambitious tone, hinting at a concept album orbiting around grand, celestial themes. While the title itself, borrowed from the Brad Pitt film Ad Astra, suggests lofty aspirations, the space imagery ultimately functions more as atmosphere than as narrative. Beneath this framing device lies the true appeal: Ash doing what they do best.
Classic hallmarks of the band’s sound surface quickly. “Which One Do You Want?” brims with melodic urgency, while the exuberant “Fun People” bursts forward with Coxon’s dynamic guitar textures and an irresistible “fa, fa, fa” refrain. These tracks showcase the chemistry between the long-standing trio and their guest collaborator, tapping into a joyous spontaneity that recalls Ash at their sharpest.
Elsewhere, the band experiments with moodier tones. “Deadly Love” opens with a shadowy, slow-burning introduction, while “Hallion” thrives on striking, muscular guitar work. Yet the album occasionally falters when it comes to lyrical depth. Songs like “My Favourite Ghost,” with its refrain of “You are my favourite ghost, the one who comes around the most,” risk undercutting the emotional weight with lines that feel overly simplistic, even juvenile.
Despite these inconsistencies, Ad Astra represents a definite creative acceleration compared to recent predecessors like Race the Night and Islands. The addition of Coxon doesn’t just provide novelty; it elevates the record’s instrumental palette and sharpens its edges, culminating in the commanding sweep of the closing title track. The result is a record that blends dependable indie-rock anthemics with a revitalising injection of new energy.
Ad Astra may not achieve the cohesion or conceptual grandeur its celestial framing hints at, but it captures Ash in vigorous, inspired form. Thirty years on from their debut, the band prove that they can still write songs with urgency, joy, and heart. It’s not the definitive Ash masterpiece, but it is the most alive they have sounded in years – proof there’s still plenty of fire in their universe.
