- Lemmy Kilmister Dec. 22nd, 2015.
I knew about Motörhead before I ever heard a note they played. I read about them in various fanzines, magazines, etc., which was usually a tale of drunken debauchery somewhere on the road, accompanied by a picture of 3 of the ugliest guys I had ever seen. They looked scary. They looked dangerous. They looked fun. I first saw Motörhead in the summer of 1980 when they opened up for Ozzy Osbourne at the Long Beach Arena. Ace Of Spades tour. First U.S. tour too, I believe. Yeah, you can say that my life was forever changed from that night onward, although I didn't buy a Motörhead shirt that night. I bought an Ozzy Osbourne one because it was cooler. After that, I made it a point to try to see them every time they played the L.A. area, growing to love the band more and more, seeing them play no matter where, and no matter with whom. I saw them in '83 - Another Perfect Day tour with Brian Robertson! The shorts! The shoes! hahaha - at Billy Barty's Roller Rink in Fullerton, where Billy Barty himself drunkenly sat on a stool by the door and told people walking in Hope you kids brought your ear plugs - these guys are loud!! LOL I saw Motörhead in '86 at Fender's Ballroom (with the Cro-Mags, Dayglo Abortions, and Raw Power) on the Orgasmatron tour, where I drunkenly stuck my head into a side fill cabinet and listened to the entire Motörhead set like that the entire night. I tell everyone that it's the reason for my deafness / tinnitus to this day. My hearing was never the same after that night. Nope. About this time is when the band started getting super popular, and I sort of dropped out from seeing them. The albums were sub-par pseudo-Metal at this point and held no interest for me. I last saw Motörhead when they played the House of Boooooo's a year ago and I had to walk out of there about 3 songs in. The band sounded terrible. Lemmy looked like an animated corpse, and he sounded like shit when singing, always a step behind, and having a hard time getting the lyrics out. They were playing sooooooo slow. The fact that the clueless people liked it sickened me. The Viciousness was gone. The Danger was gone. So was the Spirit. It was sad to see.
But I digress. This isn't about how much Motörhead sucked towards the end of their career. It happens to every band I'm told. Rather, this is me ruminating on the passing of a Legend. A God. Gods never die. Legends live forever. The beautiful thing about Lemmy was that he was an outlaw, a rebel, a bad guy, and much like Al Pacino in Scarface, he was an unrepentant bad guy that we are never going to see the likes of again. Ever. Last of a dying breed. I'm so fucking bummed. Not sad, per se, but just, again, feeling bummed for selfish reasons. I mean, if Lemmy can die, what chance do the rest of us have? His passing just means that I'm one step closer to Death, and with my recent medical diagnosis, I'm feeling my mortality today, and I'm a little worried about it. Life's too short. It really and truly is. I'd say rest in peace Lemmy, but there's no rest for the wicked - right? So instead, I'll say you should snort some meth or Jack Daniels and play some Motörhead LOUD AS FUCK and bang your head until it falls off. Just don't stick your head into the speakers. You'll probably go deaf. Stone Deaf Forever. ;-)