Whenever an iconic figure passes away, it’s very trendy and popular for people to take to the internet and flood social media with RIPs and reflections. When Scott Weiland passed away recently, all of the sudden I was friends with 287 Stone Temple Pilots fans. Who fucking knew? Well, when news spread of Lemmy’s passing at the ripe young age of 70 last night, my Facebook feed was full of people mourning the passing of Lemmy. This didn’t surprise me in the least because just about everyone I know fucking loves Lemmy Kilmister.
Lemmy is one of those guys that I’m totally ok with everyone loving. It’s not like with Slayer where the fandom of that band causes my eyes to roll back into my head like I’m having an epileptic seizure. Lemmy was this guy that you couldn’t help but love and rightfully so. If you were a diehard Motorhead fan sporting band inspired tattoos, you loved Lemmy but if you were a moderate fan such as myself, you loved Lemmy just as much as the diehard. Why? Because Lemmy was more than just Motorhead. Lemmy was a fascinating piece of rock n’ roll history. From his early days as a roadie for Jimi Hendrix to fronting prog psych rockers Hawkwind to the now legendary Motorhead, Lemmy had done it all and he made a connection with people that extended far beyond the music that he made.
When I first heard Motorhead back in 1986, I remember my first reaction to them: “Hm, these guys are good!” That’s right. I didn’t have my mind blown, I didn’t feel like I had heard anything all that spectacular, but what I did know was that I was hearing good, loud, uncompromising rock n’ roll music. At a young age, that alone makes an impression but I didn’t immediately run out and buy all their albums. When I purchased the double live album No Sleep ‘Till Hammersmith back in 1988, that’s when I realized the sheer power of Motorhead. Motorhead had to be heard and seen live to truly “get it.”
Motorhead was a band that didn’t really change, didn’t really vary, and didn’t really shy away from the formula that made them Motorhead. AC/DC has a formula, The Ramones had a formula, and so did Motorhead. It didn’t make me like them any less and it didn’t make me like them any more but Motorhead was just one of those bands that I felt like were good when I first heard them and they were good until Lemmy’s last passing breath. They never totally blew me out of the water with their albums but when it came to seeing them live, they never let me down. It was ugly, it was sexy, it was loud, and everything else that rock n’ roll was supposed to be about. A Motorhead live show was the kind of party you’d want to throw as a kid when your parents left to go out of town for the weekend. It was a bonding time with friends with a house band unlike any other. I will totally miss that.
While I will never lie and say that Motorhead was even in my top tier of bands, I will say that Lemmy was in my top tier of favorite people. There was just something about that guy that was incredibly magnetic. He loved music, he loved playing music, and he loved his fans. Back in 1992, I had the pleasure of meeting Lemmy after a concert on their March or Die tour. I went up to him after waiting outside for them to come out and I said, “Lemmy, you guys kicked ass. Will you sign this?” I handed him my Ace of Spades vinyl (which has since been gone for many years) to sign. He looks at me and goes, “Are you cool?” I said, “No. Not at all.” He smiled, handed me my album and said, “Yes, you are… and you will be.” That was a moment that stayed with me forever.
Lemmy is God! This is something I have seen constantly and the truth of it all is no, he was not a god. He was a man of flesh, blood, nicotine, booze and just about every goddamn drug on the planet. He wasn’t invincible and the very life he led is greatly responsible for what took him from this place. That being said, I’m totally ok with this. Why? Because he lived his life the way he wanted. He didn’t live or die by the cards. He didn’t play it safe but he played it well and he played it fun. He lived life to the fullest, put on some amazing live shows, and made a lot of people happy. Even Lemmy himself didn’t love being considered a “god” as he was usually the first one to point out that he was just a guy; a big grown up kid playing loud music and living the life that many could only dream about.
Rest in Peace, Lemmy. I hope that wherever you are, there’s a bar, a video poker machine, and a bottle of whiskey waiting for you. The world just got a lot less loud.
About The Author
