By Simon Saradzhyan
The Moscow Tribune
October 27, 1997
“But that’s the way I like it, baby, I don’t want to live for ever” was the favourite response me and my college friends would blurt out whenever some girl got verbally horrified by the amount of cheap alcohol consumef cheap alcohol consumeee o’clock in td by us by “three o’clock in the morning.”
And you know what? We still stand for these and other sermons sung by Great Britain’s probably most American band, although good years of heavy-partying are well behind my bald head and “I ain’t no nice guy any more” as [i]Motorhead[i] singer and bass player Lemmy Kilmister have rightfully revealed in a lyrical duo with his “chemically imbalanced” pal Ozzy Osborne.
Actually this dual tear-jerker as well as “1916” are one of the few revvvvvvvvare one of the few revelations of Lemmy’s softer ego in more than 20 years of fronting the band that have sent entire chapters of US biker gangs supersonic “On The Road”
This and other Motorhead adrenalisers are put on by these two-wheeled banditos almost as often as these easyed banditos almost as often as these easy riders get stomped in Hollywood action movies. No wonder, folks, as Lemmy himself has come to look like a character driven on a chopper from “Hunter S. S. opper from “Hunter S. e’ and all its synonyms would hardlyThompson’s Hell’s Angels” despite all his British blood.
In fact, this preposition ‘despite’ and all its synonyms would hardly be enough to describe Mr. Killmister’s “March Or Die,” activities that have already translated into 18 albums that includ include win numerous head-banging-against-pa’s closet contests.
Only by subjecting your fragile ears to these records of sheer roar you can tell what really a tough life it has been and still isthe author of immortal buster “Killed By Death” who claims he just for the formerly problem fatherless child mutated into our average rock star. Lemmy himself describes this glorious biography of odds-defying standards as being being born into “a hostile Welsh community,” ostile Welsh community,” Welsh community,” ited to play bass with Hawkwind, but “busted up at the Canadian border” with drugs and fired in 1975 to finally kickstart Motorhead. And all this invariably accompanied by “asterisking” those “of all co those “of all coar. He himself describes itas born “afighting childhood battles “mostly lost because there was always another Welsh kid waiting,” “raised on the early rock’n’roll and the Beatles.” Then forming “Rocking Vicars” which lasted from 1966 to mid-1967, then invtatives of the opposite sex “of all die-hard fans fruitlessly trying to “keep me in a box they made.”
Indeed, to restrain a man like Lemmy is almost as impossible as to fully comprehend what this touring veteran is trying to convey by his touching and humble request, suc “Love Me Like A Rep such as “Love Me Like A Reptile,” while being overwhelmed by guitar rattle of his dehumanising “Road Crew.” While still in school I tried to make out this lethal trio’s lyrics are billions of times and to no avail, but I’m gonna give it another try try lours, sizes, shapes and political and religious persuasions,” staying with a friend who would “spend 3/4 of that afternoon in front of my toilet talking on the big white telephone,” and digging bands like Everly Brothers, ABBA and MC5 to the horror of hise such heavy studio classics as “Overkill,” Ace of Spades” as well as the powerful concert which I keep forgetting the name for, but which has helped mcert which I keep forgetting the name for, but which has helped m the name for, but which has helped mwhen Motorhead finally rolls on stage of DK Gorbunova courtesy of Talent Concert International (TCI) to end its European tour. See you all at Gorbushka on Friday and Saturday to get a live grip of Lemmy’s husky drawling.
“March Or Die,” folks!
By Simon Saradzhyan