A Testament To Lemmy

As I sit here at my computer checking Facebook and messaging a friend rescheduling our Skype chat, I am thinking about Lemmy. I am thinking about Motörhead. I am thinking about all the musicians, both famous and non-famous, who were influenced by the music. I’ve got all these thoughts and feelings as a result of his untimely death at age of 70 due to terminal cancer. I want to say something, but the truth is, I was never biggest Motörhead fan most of my life. Hell, I only own one of their albums, and I only bought it and listened to it for the first time in the past year. However, I have a lot of friends that are massive Motörhead fans, and from my perception, I have never seen such a massive reaction from the punk and metalhead community, not even for the death of Jeff Hanneman of Slayer nor Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots. I am writing this for them: for the my friends, all the musicians and music fans I know who were influenced by Lemmy and the music of Motörhead.

While I was attending community college in my hometown, I was constantly surrounded by people who listened to punk and heavy metal: the good kind. With that said, the band Motörhead was always a presence. I only really knew their most popular song Ace of Spades at the time, and I knew of the lead singer/bassist Lemmy. And to tell you the truth, I was actually more of a Hawkwind fan rather than a Motörhead fan. With that being said, I didn’t own any Hawkwind CDs until this past year. I own the Hawkwind albums Space Ritual, Warrior At The Edge of Time, and Doremi Fasol Latido (and Levitation, because Ginger Baker plays on it).

When the news came of Lemmy’s death, I was in completely and utter shock, which for me was both saddening and surprising, for two reason. The first is the obvious one, and the second was because oddly enough, I reacted with more shock to Lemmy’s death than B.B. King, who died earlier this year. I asked myself, why is this affecting me more emotionally than B.B. King’s death. I mean, I was influenced way more by B.B. King, his guitar playing, his songs, etc. I guess, in all honesty, B.B. King’s end of the road was expected to come sooner, considering his recent health issues that forced him off the road completely. Perhaps that’s why it wasn’t as big a shock. But with Lemmy, it was different.

Lemmy was 70. Despite all the drugs and alcohol he’s consumed and his overall lifestyle, he seemed immortal, to everyone. Even though health problems setback Lemmy and Motörhead while on tour the past couple of years, nobody thought the worst. I know I didn’t. In the past year, I’ve gotten to see Lemmy for the first and last times I’d ever see him: with his rockabilly side project Headcat at the Roxy in Hollywood and with Motörhead at the Riverside Municipal Auditorium. I also got to catch him after the Headcat show outside the Rainbow Bar & Grill. I brought my Hawkwind’s Space Ritual vinyl. I brought a silver maker for him to use, although it wasn’t coming out right, so someone handed him a black marker and graciously signed it and I also got a picture with him. He was tall and slim, more slim than usual actually. Right after that, he made his way out back home right down the street.

The Headcat show was awesome, seeing Lemmy sing the songs he grew up listening to and making me dance, with Danny Harvey on guitar and Stray Cat Slim Jim Phantom on drum kit. Seeing Motörhead live was one of the best concert experience I’ve ever. Besides being in the wall of death with a few douchebags, the best part was standing in the middle of the mosh pit, head banging and playing air guitar and air drums to every single song Motörhead played that night. The band was in fine form and they played great music in full glory.

Only in the past year did I finally listen to Motörhead’s albums. Before Lemmy’s passing, I had listened to only two albums: Ace of Spades and their newest album Bad Magic, which is fantastic by the way. I’ve also seen the Lemmy documentary in the past but don’t remember it that well. I am currently re-watching it. The night Lemmy died, I decided to do what everybody else in the world did. I listened to Motörhead, specifically the album Iron Fist. I was immediately floored after hearing. That was when the lightbulb went, but it wasn’t until the next day that I truly understood. I woke up the next morning to go work out, and normally I listen to Van Halen and Boston while I work out, but that morning I decided to listen to Motörhead while running on the treadmill. I put on Overkill. It immediately became my favorite Motörhead album, and as far as I’m concerned, will remain my favorite album even after I will listen to the rest of them. I also listened to Bomber. As I listened to this gut-wrenching take-no-prisoners rock and roll heavy metal music, I took off like a rocket as I ran nearly 3 miles in completely bliss and determination. Let it be known that I intend to acquire their greatest albums, specifically the 2-Disc Deluxe Editions.

Bottom line: Lemmy will forever be immortal, even after death. He was a true rock and roll icon and one of the most authentic musicians that ever lived. There was no bullshit about anything. Lemmy is Lemmy. His music is his music. Take it or leave; he doesn’t give a flying fuck. He was a true road warrior, an innovative rock bassist, and a confident yet humble human being. I have yet to hear one bad Lemmy story from anyone.

In wake of Lemmy’s passing, let us be reminded to truly live life to the fullest and do what feels good. For me, what makes me feel the best is eating good food, listening to, playing and writing the music I love, and spending time with dear friends, loved ones, and family. 

Seize the day, turn it up loud, born to lose, live to win. 

R.I.P. Lemmy Kilmister 

God has a new home!