Showing posts with label Lemmy Kilmister. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lemmy Kilmister. Show all posts

Another @#$&! 2015 Top 10 rock albums list: Part 1

Depressing end to a year full of strong records
By Peter Lindblad

Killing Joke and Jaz Coleman released
one of this year's best records with 'Pylon.'
There was no happy ending to 2015 for hard rock and heavy metal. The December deaths of Lemmy Kilmister and Scott Weiland cast an overwhelming pall over a year dotted with peaks and valleys, the June passing of Yes bassist extraordinaire Chris Squire being one of the lowest of low points.

Once the grief passes, and eventually it will, the sun will break through the clouds, shining a light on the positive developments of 2015, such as the grand return of Jeff Lynne's Electric Light Orchestra and the release of critically acclaimed solo albums from Keith Richards, David Gilmour and Roger Waters. And while it appears the end is near for Black Sabbath and the ride is over (maybe?) for Motley Crue, battling brothers Ray and Dave Davies surprised everyone and briefly reunited onstage on Dec. 18, much to the delight of Kinks fans everywhere, rumors of a Guns 'N Roses reunion – now officially confirmed as a go, with a performance scheduled at the famed Coachella festival – gained unstoppable momentum and Phil Collins declared he is back ... for better or worse.

As is the case every year, a slew of incredible rock albums issued forth in 2015, bravely facing a music industry still in a state of flux and fighting for relevancy against tough odds, as a celebrity-infatuated public continues to genuflect at the pedicured feet of Adele, Taylor Swift and Bruno Mars. Here is Part 1 of our list of the Top 10 rock albums of 2015.

Stryper - Fallen 2015
10. Stryper – Fallen: Heaviness is next to godliness for Stryper these days. On Fallen, the Christian metal stalwarts keep thickening their sound and toughening gnarly riffs without sacrificing the sweet, uplifting melodic sensibilities and transcendent vocal blends adored by fans of their '80s output. More lyrically ambitious than past efforts, Fallen finds Stryper taking more risks, while refusing to abandon the signature elements that have always called the faithful to worship.

9. Lamb Of God – VII: Sturm Und Drang: Appearing rejuvenated, with Randy Blythe's terrifying legal ordeal in the Czech Republic behind him, Lamb Of God emptied their bag of tricks on the wild ride that was VII: Sturm Und Drang, proving that the disappointing Resolution was an aberration and thankfully not a trend. The words "controlled fury" get thrown around way too often, but that's what Lamb Of God engage in here, with brawling, savage riffs, titanic chugs and catastrophic breakdowns making beautiful chaos. There is great vitality and energy to VII: Sturm Und Drang, things that have been missing from recent Lamb Of God efforts. Blythe's personal journey out of hell seems to have lit a fire under the band he fronts.

Cattle Decapitation - The Anthropocene
Extinction 2015
8. Cattle Decapitation – The Anthropocene Extinction: Pollution is choking earth to death, and nobody is really doing much about it. That makes Cattle Decapitation very angry. On The Anthropocene Extinction, the extreme metal idealists paint an ugly apocalyptic vision of severe ecological devastation, and their rage at the apathy and corruption of mankind is manifested in some of the most intense, disorienting aural madness recorded in recent memory. And while it all seems to come dangerously close to going off the rails, Cattle Decapitation skillfully orchestrates a frenzied, enormous riot of pulverizing beats, violent riffs and diseased vocals designed to shock and awe. Welcome to Thunderdome.

Iron Maiden - The Book of Souls 2015
7. Iron Maiden – The Book Of Souls: A bit long-winded perhaps, with three songs clocking in at more than 10 minutes in length, The Books Of Souls dares to go places that Iron Maiden has rarely ever ventured. As their approach continues to grow increasingly progressive, resulting in some of the most complex and dramatic creations of their career, Maiden still indulges in the kind of thrilling, thunderous gallops and soaring, twisting harmonies that have always driven their most stirring anthems. And while that's a comfort to their legions of fans, as is the fact that they haven't lost any of their instrumental brilliance, The Book Of Souls also shows they're still eager to broaden their horizons and deeply explore new lyrical themes.

6. Killing Joke – Pylon: At war with the forces of oppression and greed, these post-punk veterans go for the jugular on the exciting, heart-pounding Pylon. Surging with great momentum from start to finish, while enveloped in swirling, expansive darkness, Pylon is a spiritual and political uprising for Killing Joke, a deep forest primeval of tribal drums overrun by modern electronic and industrial insurgency. In the distance, the powerful, echo-laden voice of Jaz Coleman sounds the alarm for mankind, delivering poetic tidings of the peril and calamity that should befall us if we fail to heed these warnings.

No sleep 'til heaven ... for Lemmy

A tribute to a fallen legend
By Peter Lindblad

R.I.P. Lemmy Kilmister
Nobody really believed that Lemmy Kilmister was actually indestructible. He was human after all. His recent death only serves to sadly drive that point home like a knife plunged straight into the heart of rock 'n' roll.

A kind of mythological figure, Motorhead's leader of the pack and former Hawkwind space-rock astronaut only seemed impervious to the Grim Reaper because he could guzzle bottles of Jack Daniels at a time, take as many drugs – never heroin, of course – as he liked and have as much sex as humanly possible with a multitude of partners.

None of that made him especially heroic, although, if blessed with an iron constitution like Lemmy's, who wouldn't want to experience such uninhibited and unfettered debauchery, if only for just a month or a week? Alas, all most of us can do is live vicariously through someone like Lemmy, someone who embodied the rock 'n' roll lifestyle and happily indulged in its all-you-can-eat buffet of vices. We needed the larger-than-life Lemmy in that strip club. We needed Lemmy knocking back enough booze to kill a horse and apologizing for nothing. Live free or die. No compromise. That made him rock's greatest anti-hero, untouchable and cool and immune to the judgement of self-righteous arbiters of morality. He ate sacred cows whole and spit out the bones. He had his own moral code, his own fashion sense – he wore "daisy dukes" shorts for god's sake and he wore the hell out of them – and interests outside of music that some might find distasteful. Lemmy didn't care what anybody else thought. That was his super power, and it made him bulletproof, as least when it came to criticism.

They made a movie about him, of course. How could they not? It was called "Lemmy," it came out in 2010 and if you haven't watched it, go and do so immediately. It was a revelation, and it showed that behind that tough, fearsome exterior was a generous soul, a proud father and a staunch, if unconventional, feminist. Not everything about it painted Lemmy in a good light, but he wouldn't have wanted some whitewashed version of the truth anyway. This was Lemmy, warts and all, and you couldn't help but love him. In the end, he emerged a beloved figure, a mentor even to some artists and to others a loyal friend for life. Nobody seems to have a bad word to say about him, and the outpouring of affection and adoration – things he abhorred by the way – since his passing has been a flood of biblical proportions. Punks and metal heads may not agree on everything, but they do find common ground on this: Lemmy and Motorhead were the genuine article, the band he fronted an exhilarating juggernaut of violence and speed and he played thunderous bass with reckless abandon, like an old moonshiner fleeing Johnny Law down treacherous country back roads. And if you didn't want to come along for the ride, so be it. There were no hard feelings on his part.

Incredibly candid and matter-of-fact about his own extraordinary, swashbuckling exploits in the movie "Lemmy," its namesake had nothing to hide and very few, if any, regrets, making it plain to anyone that this was a man who lived life on his terms. Artistically, he was no different. In a tweet following Lemmy's death, Alter Bridge's Myles Kennedy called him a "rebel poet," and that's fitting. His lyrics were searing in their honesty. They were philosophical and funny, and the furiously filthy, punk-metal nastiness of Motorhead, delivered with such volcanic intensity and ungodly volume, roared like the bikes of the Hell's Angels, providing the perfect vehicle for his defiant point of view. It was good, honest rock 'n' roll, just like the early stuff from the '50s that he loved. And don't forget that Lemmy also sang lead on Hawkwind's brilliant "Silver Machine" and served as a roadie for Jimi Hendrix. His story has many chapters, and all of them are utterly fascinating.

Lemmy leaves behind a slew of great Motorhead albums, such as Overkill, Bomber, Ace of Spades and the full-throated live LP No Sleep 'Til Hammersmith, and the band's most recent output – including this year's Bad Magic and 2013's Aftershock – could absolutely hold its own against the classics. Whether there was a will or not, everyone gets an inheritance from Lemmy, be it in the form of great music or the example he set. Think about it. How many of us desperately want to be truly free? And how many of us are so tied down with responsibilities that it becomes an impossible dream? Lemmy had mastered existence.

And even though he probably would be horrified at the thought of being put up on a pedestal or considered some kind of role model, there are lessons to be learned from Lemmy, especially for the next generation of musicians. Don't chase trends. Play to your strengths. Be true to yourself and your artistic vision. Honor the past, but don't be a slave to it. Be unique and be real. All are somewhat esoteric ideals, and it's harder than it sounds to stick to any of them. Lemmy did, and he was a legend because of it. And even though he had no use for religion, if there is a heaven, they should make welcome him with open arms at those pearly gates. The parties would be legendary.

CD Review: Motorhead – Bad Magic

CD Review: Motorhead – Bad Magic
UDR
All Access Rating: A-

Motorhead - Bad Magic 2015
Soldiering on despite increasingly alarming health issues, Lemmy Kilmister leads Motorhead on another balls-to-the-wall, rock 'n' roll escapade, this one called Bad Magic. Keenly aware of his own mortality, Lemmy – with a little help from his friends  – seems intent on going out in a blaze of glory, releasing one fireball of an album after another.

The formula doesn't change. Taking pride in being gritty, fast and ugly, as they always have, Motorhead again goes straight for the throat, and on the UDR release Bad Magic, Lemmy and cohorts Phil Campbell (guitars) and Mikkey Dee (drums) are addicted to the speed of blazing anthems "Victory or Die," "Thunder & Lightning" and "Electricity." It's as if they feel the Grim Reaper hot on their heels, as they race through a more melodic "Evil Eye" and blacken the earth with a scorching "Teach Them How to Bleed," hardly ever stopping to catch their breath.

While the deteriorating effects of age are creeping into his vocals, Lemmy's vile snarl is still vicious and mean, free of any studio or computerized enhancements that might add a synthetic and dishonest youthfulness that would send any Motorhead follower worth his salt into a disillusioned rage. Focus instead on the dogged grooves and hooks of "Fire Storm Hotel" and "Shoot Out All of Your Light" –the latter a powerful squall of dizzying guitars – and get blown away by the big, high-impact chorus and churning riffs of "The Devil." To top it all off, Motorhead brings their leaner cover of The Rolling Stones' "Sympathy For the Devil" back to the street, a rather faithful version that's even tougher than the original. Aside from a fairly standard and lugubrious, if still smoldering, ballad in "Till The End, there's nary a misstep on Bad Magic, where Campbell's solos and leads are absolutely searing and Dee's beat factory working furiously to keep up with orders. Sticking to what works with determination and editing out the fat, Motorhead still has that old black magic.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Nashville Pussy – Ten Years of Pussy

CD Review: Nashville Pussy – Ten Years of Pussy
Steamhammer/SPV
All Access Rating: A+

Nashville Pussy - Ten Years of Pussy 2015
Lemmy knows a thing or two about pussy ... Nashville Pussy, that is.

To the sainted leader of one of rock 'n' roll's most notorious bands, these raunchy, Southern rock reprobates are the real deal. In Kilmister's own words, "If there's ever been a better band to open for Motorhead, I've not heard them!"

Any doubters should acquaint themselves with Ten Years of Pussy, a new 22-track, two-disc "best of" collection from Steamhammer/SPV that's a 120-proof distillation of everything that's great about rock 'n' roll, taking the best Nashville Pussy material from the last decade of recorded material and pairing it not with a nice glass of Chardonnay, but rather a handful of live firecrackers that should be handled with care instead.

Unapologetically nasty and unrepentant about its sinful ways, Nashville Pussy's shotgun wedding of AC/DC's metallic crunch, the rowdy, red-neck swagger of Lynyrd Skynyrd and punk's reckless energy makes them as potent as moonshine on such fist-pumping anthems as "Come On Come On," "Pussy Time," "I'm So High" (with Danko Jones) and "Why Why Why," their infectious choruses swimming in STDs and drunken rebellion. And while they don't mind getting messy and sloppy, as they do on the rambling, Stones-y bump-and-grind of "Before The Drugs Wear Off" and the torn-and-frayed blues of "Lazy Jesus," Nashville Pussy favors hooks and mean-ass riffs as tight as Mick Jagger's pants, the blazing – not to mention hilarious – condemnation of the modern Confederacy "The South's Too Fat to Rise Again" absolutely scorching the earth.

And while the main package of choice Nashville Pussy studio tracks offers an essential primer for anybody still unfamiliar with how cohesive and powerful a unit they are – the salacious crawl of "Til The Meat Falls Off The Bone" is a particularly wicked delight – an extra disc of six vicious, rip-roaring concert cuts from Blaine Cartwright, Ruyter Suys, Bonnie Buitrago and Jeremy Thompson makes them seem even more savage and combustible when freed from the studio. Burning like Jack Daniels going down the wrong pipe, the Southern-fried boogie meltdown of "Nutbush City Limits" and the raucous, one-two punch of "Struttin' Cock" and "Late Great USA" are pumped full of adrenalin and wired on trucker speed. And that's just how God intended Nashville Pussy, champions of trailer-trash excess and poor decisions, to play.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Emigrate – Silent So Long

CD Review: Emigrate – Silent So Long
Spinefarm Records
All Access Rating: B+

Emigrate - Silent So Long 2014
In danger of being forgotten, having sat idle since launching their self-titled debut album all the way back in 2007, Emigrate has emerged from a long exile to release Silent So Long, another fine example of slick alternative-metal engineering masterminded by Rammstein guitarist Richard Kruspe.

The impact of the Emigrate's sophomore record is felt immediately, as Kruspe and company load Silent So Long with enough pulsating punk energy, misanthropic electronic menace and industrial, metallic crunch to excite and unnerve even the most stoic and cynical of scene observers.

Clean, urgent and modern, Silent So Long is bolstered by the contributions of several big-name guest vocalists. On the sexy and seductive "Get Down" the always provocative Peaches slithers over throbbing, creeped-out cyber funk that somewhat resembles Massive Attack's "Angel" and the whole thing explodes when the bombing campaign of crashing guitars is initiated. With Korn's Jonathan Davis' subversive intonation, the closing title track is just as sinister, as dub undercurrents quietly rumble and roll in the song's deep recesses. And then there's the gravelly voice of Motorhead's Lemmy Kilmister adding grit to the racing, but almost weightless, "Rock City" flying down musical straightaways.

Somewhat innovative, although not a great leap forward in that respect, Silent So Long is, nevertheless, a modern-rock, radio-friendly monster, the big, irrepressible hooks and heavy, driving momentum of "Rainbow" and "Giving Up" tailored for such programming. In a perfect world, so would the swaggering opener "Eat You Alive," featuring a devilish Frank Delleti, from the popular German band Seeed, on the mic and giving '70s glam-rock stomp a futuristic makeover.

Emigrate's first album cracked the Top 10 in Germany, and it's not a stretch of the imagination to believe this one will, too. While it could be the soundtrack to some sci-fi film noir experiment, the multi-layered Silent So Long is, at its core, an album based around strong beats, surging rock riffs and impenetrable song structures, and that's always an appealing formula for luring listeners.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Lita Ford – The Bitch is Back Live

Lita Ford – The Bitch is Back Live
Steamhammer/SPV
All Access Review: B+

Lita Ford - The Bitch is Back ... Live 2013
Polite society may not approve of today's liberal usage of the word “bitch.” Lita Ford has lived her life in a different kind of world, one where sticks and stones are occasionally used to break bones, but names couldn't ever hurt her.

On her last studio record, Ford wrote of coming to the realization that she'd been living like a runaway her whole life. And, of course, the title, Living like a Runaway, had a lot to do with the hard-luck story of the teenage punk rock girl group The Runaways she was a part of in the 1970s, but there's more to it than that.

Away from the stage, Ford has endured great tumult in her personal life, especially in recent years. Getting through it requires the kind of resilience one gets from being as independent or brave enough to escape a troubled home. In other words, being a bitch is sometimes necessary for one's survival. Making 2012’s intensely personal Living like a Runaway was not only therapeutic for Ford, as she opened up about a lot of stuff, but it also served notice that those who'd written her off as a relic of the ‘80s were dead wrong. The bitch was back, having penned and recorded some of the most affecting and edgy rock ‘n’ roll of her career, and the crowd who welcomed her to the Canyon Club in Agoura Hills, Calif., in early October of 2012 was glad she hadn't burned out or faded away just yet.

How appropriate then that she should kick off her latest concert album, The Bitch is Back Live, with the defiant Elton John song of the same name. A ballsy rocker dripping with attitude, Ford's version is unrepentant and has a thick skin, not veering far from the raucous spirit of the original, even if the choruses are delivered in a surprisingly tame and reserved voice. She must have been saving her strength.

The rest of The Bitch is Back Live holds nothing back. "Hungry," off 1990's Stiletto LP, sounds even more lewd and lascivious than it did back then, as Ford and her band, featuring Mitch Perry on guitar, Bobby Rock on drums and Marty O'Brien on bass, make its hot grooves perspire and its sinful melody slither and slide in the most seductive manner possible. Sex is not the only thing on Ford’s mind, however. In bringing out the heavy artillery of "Devil in My Head," "Relentless" and "Hate" off Living like a Runaway, Ford and company couch darker, more disturbing lyrical themes of temptation and violence in meaty, mauling riff grinds that plow these evils under as if they were sites of some horrific tragedy.

Still, this is a party, with an undeniably communal vibe, and Ford raises hell on "Kiss Me Deadly," hitting all of its confetti-strewn, sugary pop notes to close out the night. Ford expresses her love for the "roaring guitars" of "Hungry" and the dueling guitar "dive-bombs" of the sinister and melodic “Back to the Cave,” before begging all in attendance to check out the powerful words to “Hate.” And when Ford gets to “Can’t Catch Me,” the little ball of thrash-metal fury she wrote with Motorhead hellion Lemmy Kilmister while on a bender, nobody’s the least bit surprised that its ramshackle rumblings and blitzkrieg riffage has shaken the Canyon Club’s foundations.

As intimate as live recordings get, with plenty of audience reaction captured in pristine clarity, The Bitch is Back Live sees Ford playing with the reckless swagger and raw energy of a teenager who doesn't know what life's about yet. Trading well-executed licks with Perry, Ford causes her guitar to scream its orgasms, but when she sings, she's part little girl lost in the world and part worldly madame who's seen it all and then some. Her voice can be soft and alluring when it has to be, but when she wants it to scratch and claw like a wildcat, it's certainly capable of turning feral or moody, as it does in the hit “Close My Eyes Forever,” which loses some of its Gothic romance here while gaining more emotional heft.

Some of Ford’s songs have always had parts that flat-lined, and in the harsh glare of a live performance, these flaws are magnified. The flaccid “run baby, run” chorus of the song “Living like a Runaway” is a prime example, but Ford is also capable of exhibiting toughness and heart in songwriting that is always accessible and easy to relate to, just like that of her old partner Joan Jett. Ford, though, is metal’s queen, and as such, she demands a sound that’s thick and crushing, but also tuneful. She’s ready to take back her throne. http://www.spv.de/
-           Peter Lindblad


Doro ready to raise her fist in the air


German metal queen has big plans for 2013
By Peter Lindblad

Doro Pesch performing live 
Some women give themselves over to God and become nuns. Doro Pesch had a different calling. 

Devoting her life to spreading the gospel of heavy metal to every corner of the earth, the German-born artist is a true believer, a warrior for the cause. She’s bled for it and sacrificed, even going so far as to quash any possibility of having a family or a spouse. Doro is the Metal Queen, and she takes that royal title seriously.

So when Pesch, a fearless trailblazer for women in a genre traditionally ruled by men, demands that you Raise Your Fist, as she does on her latest album, as a fan of metal, you pull on your patch-covered battle jacket – no questions asked – and go to war against whatever forces are conspiring against the music you love. Yes, like your good ol’ Uncle Sam, she wants you, and Raise Your Fist – her 17th studio album overall and running the gamut from traditional metal to glorious power metal and balls-out thrash – is her newest recruiting endeavor.

Positive messages abound, as Doro espouses a “never give up” philosophy on Raise Your Fist, released last fall on Nuclear Blast. Doro never did, not even when she had tuberculosis as a child and had to actually stave off death. She would go on to help found the German metal band Warlock as a mere teenager, with members of the bands Snake and Beast. Warlock toured with such metal heavyweights as W.A.S.P., Judas Priest, Dio and Megadeth.

Warlock recorded four albums, including their 1987 breakout hit Triumph and Agony. It went gold in Germany and landed at No. 80 on the Billboard 200 in the U.S. Their videos for the singles “All We Are” and “Fur immer” were afforded heavy rotation on MTV’s “Headbangers’ Ball.” But, when Doro decided to settle in America, Warlock disintegrated and the band Doro was born. Since then, she’s continued to record and tour with a relentless energy few can muster, becoming a role model for other females in metal.

2013 promises to be a big year for Doro, and she talks about what’s coming up and her amazing history in this recent interview.

How was the most recent tour?
Doro Pesch: It was a wonderful tour. It was awesome. The weather was so severe. There was lots of snow, though, and lots of snowstorms, and oh man, in some cities, there was so much snow and ice, we were afraid that nobody would show up. But, it was always packed, even though it was cold out.

Do you think the material off Raise Your Fist was well-received?
Doro - Raise Your Fist 2012
DP: Yes, yeah. It was great. And you know, it was great, and I think it fit right in with all the classic songs. What is this, record No. 17? Yeah, it mixed in really good and “Raise Your Fist” … actually it reminds me of “All We Are” and it made people so happy, and I always asked them to show me your fists before we played the song, and oh, it was so great. So “Raise Your Fist in the Air” was definitely one of the highlights. And “Revenge” was especially for people who like old-school metal, and there was a lot of metal in that and everybody was head-banging. And one of my favorite songs, “Hero,” I sang it every night, and I dedicated it to Ronnie James Dio, who I loved so much. And that was definitely one of the highlights. And then every night we played different songs off the new album. Sometimes we’d put in “Cold Hearted Lover” and other stuff. It’s hard to choose a set list because there are so many records we try to highlight, and then every night we try to change it for those who come to see it a couple of times, so everyone gets new songs. Yeah, yeah … the new record was received very well. We were happy.

Is “Hero” one of your favorite songs off the new album?
DP: It is, and it’s one of the most important. It was Track 1 that I wrote for this record, and I just kept saying I want to give honor and respect to Ronnie. We got the chance to tour together a couple of times. My first time was actually in ’87, and one of the great times was in 2000 in America. We had a long tour and then we became really great friends, and it was so much fun. And I know how much Ronnie means to all the heavy-metal fans. And I feel the same. So when I heard that he was in heaven … oh God, it was so devastating. A couple of weeks later, I wanted to go to bed, and I almost fell asleep, and then this melody comes out and the lyrics and the chorus was exactly there as how you hear it on the record. And then I finished the verses a little bit later with a friend of mine, Joey Balin, who did [Warlock’s] Triumph and the Agony with me and the Force Majeure record [her first solo album], and I called him up. And I said, “Joey, I have a song  that’s very important to me. It’s for Ronnie and every word has to be perfect,” so he said, “Let’s do it.” And he knew Ronnie, too, because we toured together in ’87. Joey was on the tour, but back then I couldn’t speak English that well, so the conversations between Ronnie and me were limited to, “Hey, have a great show,” and “you did great.” But in 2000, we had long conversations and great laughs, and it was awesome. We became really great friends.

A couple of really big powerful anthems on the record are “Raise Your Fist in the Air” and “Victory.” I know you stated in the press material that when you played the Wacken Open Air Festival, those songs just made the whole place shake. What was that experience like?
DP: Oh, it was the ultimate. Actually, Wacken is one of my favorite festivals in the world – not because it’s in Germany but because it’s for all the metalheads all over the world. It’s definitely one of the best festivals. That’s what so great about the festival is that it’s definitely a festival for the fans. So these two guys, I played them the demo for “Raise Your Fist.” It was a couple of years ago, and then they said, “Oh, you’ve got to play these at the Wacken festival.” And I said, “No, it’s not done. It’s just a demo. We want to record it. We want to put it eventually on the new record.” They said, “No, play it, please.” And I said, “Are you sure?” And they said, “Yes.” And then I played it and actually, it was not even finished, but we played it. I always could open up the Wacken festival. I sing the Wacken anthem, and then I did either “Oh Yeah,” but in that case I did “Raise Your Fist” and it was great. And then I knew, “Okay, this song will definitely make the record, too.” And then we recorded it and the title was Raise Your Fist; it was actually the record title. And so this year, I have my 30-year anniversary coming up, and we want to play all over the world, and do a couple of really, really special shows, with great guests and lights and sound and the whole spectacular things. And in Wacken, that’s actually the first time we will celebrate it at Open Air, and all this. So definitely “Raise Your Fist” will be in the set. And I want to do it in London and Paris and New York, and we’ll see after we talk to the touring agents. But I want to celebrate it big for the 30th anniversary, yeah.

It seems like only yesterday you had your 25th anniversary.
DP: You’re right. It totally feels like a couple of weeks ago. Yep, yep, but times flies, and I toured with my first band when I was 16 years old.

You have another duet with Lemmy on the new record on “It Still Love Hurts.” Tell me what that was like and if you have a favorite Lemmy story, as everybody seems to have?
DP: Yeah, yeah. I do have, actually, many Lemmy stories, but I can tell you the first one. It was in the very early ‘80s, and I’ll tell you, I don’t think Lemmy remembers it, but I remember it. When you drink whiskey cola with Lemmy, you know, it is 90 percent whiskey and 10 percent Coca Cola. It was the first time I got invited to go to London, to England, by a magazine … that was very important. It was Kerrang magazine, and it was before I had even gotten an American release. And back in the day, it was like you had to do really good in England to get a chance to go to America. So it was a very important day. I got invited by the Kerrang people to a party. And they said, “Well, can you play a couple of songs.” I said, “Okay,” but the record company said just one person goes over from Warlock, and I said, “Well, okay.” So, I went over and they put together a band for me, like a couple of other musicians, and we were doing sound check and it was maybe ’82 or ’83. And yeah, and then we were rehearsing, it sounded really good. I covered a couple of Free songs and they sounded good, but the pressure was on. I was so stressed out. I thought, “Oh God, I’ve got to represent well for the record company, for the magazine people,” and there were tons of press there.

And then, to kill some time after sound check, I went around the corner to get something to eat or to get something to drink, and I went into this pub. And then I saw somebody who was standing there, and I thought, “Is that Lemmy?” And then I walked up to him and said, “Are you Lemmy?” And he said, “Yes. Are you Doro?” And I said, “Yes.” And I thought, “Oh, that’s great,” but I couldn’t speak English at all. I had no idea what he was saying, and I said, “Do you wanna have a drink – whiskey cola?” And I thought, “Oh yes, yes.” And we smoked some cigarettes, and it was one whiskey cola after another. And when you drink whiskey cola with Lemmy, you know, it is 90 percent whiskey and 10 percent Coca Cola. So, I had a couple of drinks, and I wouldn’t want to say, “No,” because I didn’t want to chicken out. So I had a couple more, and I thought, “Oh my God.” And he said, “Dora, don’t you have to do a gig?” I said, “Oh, yeah.” And then I walked out of the pub. I couldn’t even … I think I was probably shaking. I didn’t even know where I was going. So I found the club where the party was supposed to be, and then people were saying, “Doro, you have to jump onstage. Your show …” And I went onstage and I couldn’t remember the lyrics anymore. I couldn’t stand up, and then I was sitting on the drum riser, and then I waited until the band was finished. And then I walked off. And the record company and everybody were in shock. They said, “What happened to you? What happened?” And I said, “I met Lemmy.” And then everybody started laughing. They said, “Okay, little girl. Now that’s a good excuse.” And that’s how we got our record deal in America.

So that was my first time meeting Lemmy, and ever since we’ve become real good friends, and we actually did great stuff together. Two years ago, we did the tour with Motorhead. We opened up for Motorhead in Europe and Lemmy did two songs with me on the Call of the Wild record in 2000 and on this record, yeah, I wrote “It Still Hurts” with a great friend of mine who is the ex-guitar player of (Sisters of) Mercy, Andreas Bruhn, and then we were working on the song, and then I said, “Andreas, somehow I feel this calls for a duet.” And then he was singing the male part, and I said, “You know what, in the back of my mind, I hear Lemmy singing the song.” And he looked at me and said, “I made you a rock mix. You want to send it to him?” I said, “Oh, yes.” And then I sent it to Lemmy, and he said, “Oh that sounds great. Let’s do it.” And then we did it on the same day when I did “That Metal Show” with Eddie Trunk. Yeah, and then at night, I went to the studio and Lemmy sang his part for “It Still Hurts,” and I was so happy. It was great. It’s one of my favorite songs on this record, and it’s always a great honor to have Lemmy sing something.

My favorite song on the record is “Little Headbanger.” I wanted to ask you where that song came from.
DP: Yeah, I wanted to write like a real old-school metal song, like something that’s good to head-bang to. And actually, I had this idea and I did it with Andreas Bruhn as well, and I said, “Andreas, we need the real ‘80s – a no bullshit sound, not ‘90s. I want to have it ‘80s style.” Yeah, and that was the last song on the record, and then I squeezed in some little German words. But, it sounds cool, it’s great. And there are a couple of little German things, and it’s a song about a real headbanger, and actually, on the last tour, we had these t-shirts for kids, and they had “Little Headbanger” on them. So all the people when they’re buying little t-shirts for their little girl or boy … I’ve gotten tons of pictures [sent to me] where it says, “Our little headbanger” on them, and they’re so beautiful, and they say, “Now they’ll be a little headbanger when they grow up.”

I was doing some research before the interview, and I didn’t realize that your first memory of listening to music hearing “Lucille” by Little Richard.
DP: Yes, I think I was about 3 years old – maybe 3 or 4 years old. I can honestly say I think I fell in love with music so hard because of that song. I loved music before, but when I listened to it, I didn’t even know who it was, but I was just old enough to make the record player play the same song over and over and over, and my parents thought there was something wrong. But I knew then that I wanted to become a singer, and then, later on, I grew up with it and bands like T-Rex, Sweet, Slade, Alice Cooper, and then later on, Led Zeppelin, but there was no heavy metal when I was 7, 8, or 9 years old. Then, when I was about 15, there was the beginning of the heavy-metal movement, but of course, there wasn’t any Internet in Germany. There weren’t really even any magazines. There were just maybe little fanzines coming out, and later, around ’82 or ’83, we founded Warlock, and we were in the right place at the right time, and we toured and played with great, great metal bands. And somehow, we thought, “Hey man, I guess we’re part of the heavy-metal movement,” but at first, we just did what we wanted to do and it sounded like what we loved, but we had no idea it was called “heavy metal.” But then, later on, yeah … we knew.

You were one of the few female voices in metal at the time. Did you experience any problems with that, or were you accepted from the start?
DP: Yeah, Peter, actually there were absolutely no problems whatsoever. I think the fans and the other bands … like when we opened up for other bands, everybody knew I was dead serious about metal. You know, I was dedicated to metal, and I think everybody knew it. So, there was not even a question if you were a man or a woman. They knew I had metal in my heart. And the fans … from Day One, there was a deep connection, and I love the fans. I get so much feedback from the fans saying it didn’t matter if you were born a girl or whatever … you have to work with what you have, but they were nice to me. It never mattered.

The only time it mattered was when we went to go to Japan in the ‘80s – especially the German metal bands were huge there. And then, we were talking to the record company. They were selling tons … just millions of records there, but then, like the promoter said, “No, we can’t go because Doro is a girl.” And I thought, “What?! What the f- -k is that?” I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t believe it. Then, in the year 2000, we were signed to another independent label. It was SPV. And then the record came out in Japan again. It was actually the Call of the Wild record, with the two Lemmy duets on it. Yeah, and then I talked to my product manager, and I said, “Well, it’s a huge success in Japan,” but he said, “You guys can’t go.” And I said, “What do you mean?” And he said, “It’s only because you are a woman.” And I said, “Oh, I can’t believe it. I heard that shit in the ‘80s, and it’s still that way?” But then actually I went to Japan now. I guess we’re lucky that times have changed, but yeah, for the longest time, that was the only, only time I heard something like that. Probably, it was one person who makes the decisions, you know, because we had tons of Japanese metalheads and metal fans, but that was the only time I heard something and it was a problem. But, sometimes, when there is problem, then you put even more energy into it to overcome the hurdle, or it’s a bigger challenge. But that was actually the only time that I heard something. Everything else, there was always great support by the other musicians and bands, and our first big tour was with Judas Priest in ’87 …

That must have been amazing. What was the highlight of that tour?
DP: Yeah, yeah. The highlight of that tour was actually when we got the tour, I quit my job. My manager called me and the place where I was working as a graphic artist and he said, “Are you ready to quit your job?” And I said, “Why?” And he said, “So you can go on tour with your favorite band.” And I didn’t really dare to think … and I said, “Who do you mean?” He said, “Well, your favorite band.” And I said, “Does he mean Judas Priest?” And I said, “No f- -king way.” Then I quit my job. I told my boss that I wanted to quit my job to go on tour with Judas Priest. He didn’t know what that was. I said, “They’re the biggest and the best.” And he said, “Is that why you’re always dressed like so funny, with the bullet belt and the studs?” I said, “Yes, yes. That’s why. That’s one of the reasons.” And he said, “Okay then, good luck. I know I can’t keep you here. I wish you good luck.” And then we toured and the last gig was actually in Scandinavia, and I didn’t know it, but usually on the last gig, the headliner always does something to the support band or the support band does something to the headliner. And then we were playing “Burning the Witches,” and it was the “Turbo” tour, and suddenly, all the pyro and the “Turbo Lover” – it was like this big kind of robot – went on. Like we got the whole pyrotechnics and fireworks, and at first, I was like shocked and surprised, and then actually they gave it to us, like the whole Judas Priest guys and the crew, the band, they said, “Let’s give them the full show.” And then we played “Burning the Witches” with the full Judas Priest show, which usually, the headliner is the headliner, and we got the full-blown pyrotechnics, lights … it was unbelievable, and it looked like a million bucks. That was one of many, many highlights.

Yeah, I bet.
DP: And then my second tour was actually with Ronnie James Dio, and there were so many highlights there, too, but it would take too long to tell them all. Every day was a highlight with Ronnie, of course, and Judas Priest, my favorite band, and then Ronnie James Dio, my favorite singer … so I can definitely say I’ve been totally blessed in the metal world.

Tell me about recording your debut album, Burning the Witches, with Warlock and your last studio album together, Triumph and Agony.  How would you compare the two?
DP: Yeah, let’s see, the first one actually we signed to a label, Mausoleum Records. That’s because [they had] the coolest logo. It looked like metal, and it had two drops of blood on either end, so that was already the decision. There was no legal advice for us – nothing. It was just … it looks like metal, so it must be cool. So we started writing the … Witches album, and actually, I had no idea then that you can record something many times over. So I did all my vocals in one take in a couple of hours, and then sometimes I didn’t say the right lyrics and stuff – I wrote it down somewhere, but the lyrics got lost. So I just sang it, and I said, “I hope nobody will hear it.” I had no idea that you could ask the engineer, “Can I sing it again?” I did it all in one take, one song after the other. And I said, “I hope nobody will hear that I sang a couple of times the same shit and all the mistakes,” but then nobody said a word. I thought, “Okay.” And then I was done.
We recorded the whole record in seven days, and the first mix was actually so awful I burned it and I fell down in tears, it was so awful. We remixed it again and I blew all my money on this record, and it was … yeah, that was the first record. And then we met somebody who actually did our Hellbound (1985) record and True as Steel (1986) record. His name was Henry Staroste. He actually saved the record. He was actually an artist at Polygram, and he helped us to make a nice mix on the Burning the Witches record. And he brought in his friend, an engineer, and his name was Rainer Assmann, and he was really good. So the record, Burning…, which sounded okay in the end, he said the recording is good, but not so great, but he said, “I think it was his first time in the studio, too.” So it was actually our first record, but it was such a surprise and totally unexpected, but it was a big success. We had no idea that people would even find out that we existed. It was great, and then the second record, actually, was on Polygram then, not Universal. And then it was not taking seven days; it was actually taking nine months and it was close to taking the whole year, and then I went to America. And I fell in love with America. I just went to New York for a little promotion tour, but the promotion lasted three days and after two days, I told everybody I want to stay. And then I stayed.

Then I got in touch with so many great people, and we recorded the Triumph and Agony album in actually the best studio in the world. It was called the Power Station back then, and that’s where it happened, at the great Power Station studio in New York City. And we had great people playing on that record. Cozy Powell played many of the songs on this record, and it was the time of my life. Just being in America, I loved it so much and we had so much energy and we were overflowing with ideas, and then with Joey Balin, who produced the record with me. I told him all kinds of ideas and he went, “Wow! That’s very interesting,” and my first song was “East Meets West,” because I told Joey how it is to play in an Eastern country. We went to Hungary and it was totally like you could smell the Cold War. It was so empty and because he was American, he had no idea what I was talking about. And then I tried to explain to him how it is there, and we came up with the song “East Meets West.” It was the first song and I played it for my manager, and he said, “That’s great. Go on. Do more stuff.” And then we did song after song after song, and then we recorded the tracks actually in the Power Station in New York and in Pennsylvania, at the Kajem studio. Yeah, and I felt it had magic, and I told everybody, “I know it will be gold, it will be gold.” And everybody said, “Aren’t you getting a little bit crazy?” And I said, “No, no, no.” And yeah, it was our most successful record. We did a one-and-a-half-year tour after this record, and it was my first long, big tour in America with Megadeth, and still to this day, I love this record so much. It had so much energy and the songs … “All We Are” was edgy and put on heavy rotation on MTV, and it was shot in a river basin where “Terminator” was shot. It was shot by a great guy. Mark Rezyka was the video producer, and he was the hottest video producer in the ‘80s, or one of the hottest. And then “All We Are” was on heavy rotation … I remember when MTV had “Headbanger’s Ball,” when I first saw “All We Are” on “Headbanger’s Ball,” I screamed so loud, it was like I just couldn’t believe it. And then the next time I saw “Headbanger’s Ball,” Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley, they were hosting “Headbanger’s Ball,” and they said, “And here’s another band from Germany called Warlock and ‘All We Are,’” and it was just, “Oh my God …” I almost got a heart attack. It was too much.

What was Gene Simmons like to work with?
DP: Oh, I was a big KISS fan, and I introduced KISS in 1989 at the Monsters of Rock Festival in Germany. The promoter said, “Doro, I know that you are a big KISS fan. Would you want to introduce KISS live onstage?" I said, “Oh, it would be great.” So, I did, and that was my first time when I met the guys in KISS, and I went up and met Gene Simmons. Yeah, and he left a big impression on me, and I thought, “Ah.” And from that day on, I was always thinking of maybe covering a KISS song, or maybe do something with KISS, and then I called my manager. I said, “Do you think it’s possible to maybe get connected and stuff?” And my manager, his name was Alex (Grob), he said, “I don’t think so. They don’t have time for that.” And I said, “Well, check it out.” 

So a couple of weeks later – he was a great manager by the way; I worked with him for 17 years, Alex – and then, a couple of weeks later, Alex said, “Doro get dressed, and meet me at the Le Parker Meridien Hotel on 57th Street,” and I was living in the Village, and I said, “Why?” And he said, “Well, it’s a surprise.” And I thought maybe it was some friends of mine were coming to New York, and then I went to the Le Parker Meridien Hotel. It was actually the first hotel I ever stayed at in America, so I knew it well. Yeah, and then I met Alex, and I said, “Please, tell me who it is,” and he said, “No no. You’ll find out. It’s somebody really great.” And I said, “No way!” And he said, “Yes.” And I said, “No way. Why didn’t you tell me it was Gene Simmons?” And he said, “Because I wanted to surprise you.”

And I got like … I was so nervous, and I ran around the block three times, and in New York, it’s a huge block, and then after three times, Alex said, “Are you finished now? Are you ready to face Gene Simmons?” And I walked into the hotel, and Gene was sitting there. And he was very nice, very … you know, like very calm. And he said, “Well, what do you want to do?” And I said, “I thought maybe one song together?” And he said, “Okay. Let’s try it out. If nothing happens, that’s okay, but you know, let’s check it out.” So we worked together really well and we recorded the whole record in L.A. and Gene was the executive producer, and Tommy Thayer was the co-producer. And Tommy Thayer played many of the guitar solos, and it was a time when I had great producers …you know, it was awesome. He was very, very nice – very intelligent and very caring, just super.

Your records have a lot of positive messages, and your lyrics hit on themes of perseverance in the face of different things and determination. Do you get that from when you had tuberculosis as a child and you had to fight to really even stay alive?
DP: Yeah, maybe. Maybe that had something to do with it. If you’re really close to dying, something is changed. You are not anymore so … I don’t know. It’s definitely … yeah, I think it had something to do with it. And I always wanted to make people happy and give them something they can believe in, something that can lift them up. If somebody has a shitty day, just you know, I’d always say, “Put on a record or ‘All We Are’ and you feel better, you feel empowered.” And with the live shows, that’s what I always feel I can do best. I really feel I can give people good energy, and it goes by fast, so I hope those good feelings last. When I can touch their hearts and soul … God, that’s great. And in the same way, I always get energized by the fans, and that’s why I could do another 30 years, because the music business is rough. It’s always going up and down, and it’s really hardcore. So I always owe it to the fans that I can still do it and I cater to the fans and the music and that will never, ever change. I’m a hundred percent sure of that.

What’s next for you? What’s on the horizon? And what are your long-term plans?
DP: The “Full Metal Cruise,” that’s another cruise liner metal thing going in Europe. And then we want to do all the summer festivals and do some more gigs in the States. And keep touring for the rest of the year, and then I celebrate my 30th anniversary in music. And I want to do it a couple of times. I want to do it the first time at Wacken, at the Open Air festival in Germany in August. And then I want to do it once in New York and in Paris, and then probably do a great DVD out of it, because, of course, I want to do it great, with great guests and spectacular shows and the best pyrotechnics and whatever … it’s great, great, great. Yeah, and then doing a DVD – all of it. And then I just did the second part of [the film] “Anuk – The Way of the Warrior.” [In the first movie, released in 2006 with Krokus’s Marc Storache also acting in the film, she played the warrior Meha] We did the first part and now we’re doing the second part. I’m writing some more songs for the soundtrack, and I hope it will come out in 2013 or 2014. It always takes a little longer to break into the cinema, so probably the beginning of 2014, I guess. And then more touring and hopefully, another long American tour.

Doro meets Lemmy, disaster ensues


Singer describes first encounter with the Motorhead main man, offers update

By Peter Lindblad

Anyone who dares to have a drink with Motorhead’s sage rock ‘n’ roll outlaw Lemmy Kilmister does so at
DORO - Raise Your Fist 2012
his or her own peril. Doro Pesch found that out the hard way.

“When you drink whiskey cola with Lemmy, you know, it is 90 percent whiskey and 10 percent Coca Cola,” cautions Pesch, fresh off a North American tour in support of her newest Nuclear Blast release, Raise Your Fist.

Such a ratio would normally kill a lesser man or woman, if consumed in ridiculous amounts. Doro survived her first encounter with Lemmy … but just barely. And she almost did irreparable harm to her burgeoning music career in the process. “I don’t think Lemmy remembers it, but I remember it,” says Doro.

It was the early ‘80s, as Pesch recalls. Warlock, the traditional German power-metal band she formed in 1982 with Rudy Graf, Thomas Studier, Michael Eurich and Peter Szigeti, was still in its infancy and looking for their big break.

“The first time I got invited to go to London, to England, by a magazine … that was very important,” explains Doro. “It was Kerrang magazine, and it was before I had even gotten an American release. And back in the day, it was like you had to do really good in England to get a chance to go to America.”

At the behest of Kerrang, Doro was invited to a party and asked to play a couple of songs. The significance of the occasion was not lost on Doro. There was a lot on the line for her and Warlock. Fully aware that she needed be on the top of her game, she agreed, even though her band was back in Germany.

“I said, ‘Okay,’ but the record company [Warlock was first on Mausoleum Records] said just one person goes over from Warlock, and I said, ‘Well, okay,’” recalls Pesch. “So, I went over and they put together a band for me, like a couple of other musicians, and we were doing sound check and it was maybe ’82 or ’83. And yeah, we were rehearsing, it sounded really good. I covered a couple of Free songs and they sounded good, but the pressure was on. I was so stressed out. I thought, ‘Oh God, I’ve got to represent well for the record company, for the magazine people,’ and there were tons of press there.”

After sound check, Doro had some time to kill. So, she went around the corner and walked into a pub to get something to eat or drink. And who should be there but Lemmy, one of Doro’s metal idols.

“I saw somebody who was standing there, and I thought, ‘Is that Lemmy? And then I walked up to him and said, ‘Are you Lemmy?’ And he said, ‘Yes. Are you Doro?’ And I said, ‘Yes.’ And I thought, ‘Oh, that’s great,’ but I couldn’t speak English at all. I had no idea what he was saying, and I said, ‘Do you wanna have a drink – whiskey cola?’ And I thought, ‘Oh yes, yes,’” says Doro.

Lemmy, of course, does not drink like normal people. As Doro says, a whiskey Coke for him is a whole lot of whiskey and just enough soda to add a hint of sweetness. Young and naïve, she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

“And we smoked some cigarettes, and it was one whiskey cola after another,” remembers Doro. “So, I had a couple of drinks, and I didn’t want to say, ‘No,’ because I didn’t want to chicken out. So I had a couple more, and I thought, ‘Oh my God.’ And he said, ‘Dora, don’t you have to do a gig?’ I said, ‘Oh, yeah.’ And then I walked out of the pub. I couldn’t even … I think I was probably shaking. I didn’t even know where I was going.”

Amazingly, Doro found the club where the party was in full swing. “And then people were saying, ‘Doro, you have to jump onstage. Your show …’ And I went onstage and I couldn’t remember the lyrics anymore,” says Doro. “I couldn’t stand up, and then I was sitting on the drum riser, and then I waited until the band was finished. And then I walked off. And the record company and everybody were in shock.”

In her inebriated state, Doro had some explaining to do.

“They said, ‘What happened to you? What happened?’ And I said, ‘I met Lemmy,’” says Doro. “And then everybody started laughing. They said, ‘Okay, little girl. Now that’s a good excuse.’ And that’s how we got our record deal in America. So that was my first time meeting Lemmy, and we’ve become real good friends.”

So good in fact that two years ago, DORO, the band, toured with Motorhead. And Lemmy sings a duet with Pesch on the pained ballad “It Still Hurts” off Raise Your Fist. She feels that fans were quite receptive to the new material on the month-long North American tour she just wrapped up at the end of February, a jaunt that was somewhat hazardous due to inclement weather.

“It was a wonderful tour. It was awesome,” says Pesch. “There was lots of snow, though, and lots of snowstorms, and oh man, in some cities, there was so much snow and ice, we were afraid that nobody would show up. But, it was always packed, even though it was cold out.”

Now that it’s over, Doro and company aren’t ready to take a break just yet.

“Next week, we go to Russia,” says Pesch, who lives now in both New York City and her native Germany. “The Full Metal Cruise, that’s another cruise liner metal thing going in Europe. And then we want to do all the summer festivals and do some more gigs in the States. And keep touring for the rest of the year, and then I celebrate my 30th anniversary in music. And I want to do it a couple of times. I want to do it the first time at Wacken, at the Open Air festival in Germany in August. And then I want to do it once in New York and in Paris, and then probably do a great DVD out of it, because, of course, I want to do it great, with great guests and spectacular shows and the best pyrotechnics and whatever … it’s great, great, great. And then I just did the second part of [the film] “Anuk – The Way of the Warrior.” [In the first movie, released in 2006 with Krokus’s Marc Storache also acting in the film, she played the warrior Meha] We did the first part and now we’re doing the second part. I’m writing some more songs for the soundtrack, and I hope it will come out in 2013 or 2014. It always takes a little longer to break into cinema, so probably the beginning of 2014 – and then more touring and hopefully, another long American tour.”

More of our interview with Doro Pesch will soon be available. In the meantime, visit www.doromusic.de to find out what DORO are up to. 

CD/DVD Review: Motorhead - The World is Ours - Vol. 2 - Anyplace Crazy as Anywhere Else


Motorhead – The World is Ours – Vol. 2 – Anyplace Crazy as Anywhere Else
UDR/Motorhead Music/EMI Label Services
All Access Rating: A
Motorhead - The World is Ours - Vol. 2 -
Anyplace Crazy as Anywhere Else
Even if speed limits had been posted throughout No Sleep ‘Til Hammersmith, one of the most lethal live LPs ever recorded, Motorhead undoubtedly would have disregarded them all. Onstage, these rock ‘n’ roll renegades were above the law, as nobody could even hope to approach their velocity or intensity, and that amphetamine-fueled joyride through a clutch of classic songs from the legendary studio albums Overkill, Bomber, and Ace of Spades was as reckless and dangerous as a police chase.
Only one drawback: the quality of that recording, though fine for its day, is not exactly up to snuff, especially when compared to the pristine, high-definition sound and the vivid, colorful visuals of the recently released two CD/DVD/Blue-ray combo The World is Ours – Vol. 2 – Anyplace Crazy as Anywhere Else, out on the boutique label UDR. The second in a series of amazing concert audio and video packages from an older, but no less ruthless, Motorhead, this furious, barnstorming set gives a full accounting of the band’s summer of 2011 performance at the Wacken Open Air Festival in Germany, plus a smattering of six smoldering tracks culled from their Sonisphere Festival gig that year and five more red-hot sonic embers left over from their Rock in Rio performance.
Dirty, desperate and shockingly loud, Motorhead’s classic lineup of Lemmy Kilmister, “Fast” Eddie Clarke and Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor didn’t let up on the accelerator during No Sleep ‘Til Hammersmith, and with their well-earned reputation as vice-ridden outlaws preceding them, that combination of balls-to-the-wall heavy metal and general nastiness certainly appealed to those who thumbed their noses at conventional morality. While not quite so fearsome anymore, the Motorhead of today, together for 20 years and featuring Philip Campbell blazing away on guitar and Mikkey Dee’s muscular, clockwork drumming, could certainly give the old masters a run for their money, as any of the full-throttle, high-energy versions of “Iron Fist,” “Ace of Spades,” “I Know How to Die,” “Going to Brazil,” “Overkill” and “Over the Top” contained on The World is Ours – Vol. 2 will attest – each song appearing multiple times. Some are rowdier takes than the rest, while others are most explosive or gritty, but all of them are performed with verve and snarling aggression.
As mean as ever, Motorhead hasn’t lost any of their sinful swagger. Thick and heavy, “The Chase is Better Than the Catch,” “In the Name of Tragedy,” and “Killed By Death” swing by the neck like condemned men at the gallows, each guitar stroke tumescent and filled with bad intent. And what’s great about Motorhead is that when they announce they’ll be playing a new song from their latest album, like the frenzied “Rock Out” or the crunchy, quaking “The Thousand Names of God,” nobody dares to go running for the concession stand, because they’re just as powerful and compelling as any of the so-called hits. Campbell, in particular, shows his versatility on “The Thousand Names of God” – his menacing riffs are pure evil and his solos are searing, while Dee puts on a drum solo exhibition later that is a monstrous mix of power and precision. And Lemmy … well, Lemmy is Lemmy, his gruff, growling voice so exquisitely ravaged by time and booze, and oh so satisfying, while his brawling, violent bass playing is just as glorious as it was in Motorhead's salad days.
There are so many reasons to love The World is Ours – Vol. 2 – Anyplace Crazy as Anywhere Else, from the knock-down-drag-out performances of a band’s that’s lost none of its potency, to the vibrant concert footage edited for optimum excitement and impactful audio that adds more sonic punch to the mix than is absolutely necessary – although it certainly is appreciated. Loved by punks and metalheads alike, Motorhead still plays hard-hitting rock ‘n’ roll at a time when hard-rock could use a defibrillator. Though they'll never welcome in respectable society, Lemmy and his band of merry mischief-makers are just the men to bring it back to life.
-            Peter Lindblad

DVD Review: Saxon - Heavy Metal Thunder - The Movie


DVD Review: Saxon - Heavy Metal Thunder – The Movie
IDR/Militia Records/EMI
All Access Rating: A
Saxon - Heavy Metal Thunder - The Movie 2012
Chosen to support Motorhead on the “Bomber” tour in 1979, Saxon seemed a perfect fit and yet there was something different about them that confounded Lemmy. Being the charitable sort, Lemmy – is there really any need to list his last name anymore? – offered them some of his vodka and samples of whatever drugs he had available, as former Saxon bassist Steve “Dobby” Dawson remembers it, readily admitting that the alcohol made him sick. Saxon actually didn’t seem to want any of it, and that made Lemmy … well, not sad, but a bit baffled. They were a heavy metal band, after all. What part of sex, drugs and rock and roll didn’t they understand?
Shaking his head and having a good laugh about the whole thing now in the long-awaited 2012 Saxon two-disc documentary “Heavy Metal Thunder – The Movie,” Lemmy still finds it amusing that they were more interested in drinking tea than downing bottles of booze. As a matter of fact, Saxon demanded crates of English tea when they New Wave of British Heavy Metal horsemen set out to conquer America for the first time, believing that they couldn’t find the good stuff in the U.S. That’s what kept Saxon up at night – the ability to find quality tea … and lots of it. Not exactly the stuff of a “Behind the Music” special, is it?
In the beginning, Saxon was one for all and all for one, a band of brothers that busted out of the mining and industrial wasteland of South Yorkshire with modest dreams of heavy-metal glory. Informed by the punk movement and the harsh, dirty noise of industry and machines, Saxon’s sound couldn’t have been less pretentious. Devoid of artifice, the hard-nosed, hot-wired guitars of Paul Quinn and Graham Oliver could sear flesh, and Steve “Dobby” Dawson’s bass rumbled like a Hell’s Angels’ chopper, while the drums – first ably played by David Ward, and then bashed into powder by former Gary Glitter drummer Pete Gill – pumped furiously like pistons. Driving this thundering vehicle, Biff Byford, a lanky, long-haired showman with the voice of a metal god, always has been the heart and soul of Saxon, as well as its most compelling character. They were, and still are, a working-class band, albeit with a lineup that's somewhat different now, and their lyrics often sympathized with the plight of blue-collar England, which at the time was embroiled in vicious labor disputes with the mother of all union busters, Margaret Thatcher – all of these elements are trumpeted in “Heavy Metal Thunder – The Movie,” an account of Saxon’s history that bares everything.   
Against this backdrop of economic depression and rusted-out factories, Saxon’s story played out, taking interesting twists and turns, their struggle mirroring that of Black Sabbath and other NWOBHM legends. With the kind of honesty and integrity that characterized Saxon’s music, “Heavy Metal Thunder – The Movie” tells a heroic tale of perseverance and substance over flash. Full of wicked old war stories, as told by the members of Saxon, this documentary traces the Saxon story all the way back to when they were called Son of a Bitch. Despite the dated production values, this no-frills film – supplemented with amazingly rare and vital live footage from various points in Saxon’s history, including great stuff from that infamous “Bomber” tour with Motorhead – travels back to that rough-and-tumble English rock club circuit the band played when that fire that burned in their bellies was all that got them through poverty and dashed hopes. They toured on a shoestring budget, taking liberties with groupies in a cramped van containing their gear and no privacy. They fervently dreamed of securing a record contract, and when they did, it was with French label Carrere Records, a deal that would leave them penniless. Details about how their famous logo was developed and how the cover of their debut album was created are revisited in the film, and when Saxon’s machinery finally started churning out the records they were born to make, like Strong Arm of the Law, Wheels of Steel and Denim and Leather – these powerhouse, chrome-plated albums of tough, smoking riffs, workhorse rhythms and gritty, uncompromising hooks – “Heavy Metal Thunder – The Movie” traces the band’s steady progression to the top of British rock heap with admiration.
Of course, there’s the inevitable decline, the clueless producers who tamed Saxon’s mighty roar, Dawson’s cocaine use and the fierce battles with Byford that led to his messy departure, and insight into the hard feelings that persist between past and present members – all of whom talk candidly and passionately about these matters and about this thing they started. “Heavy Metal Thunder – The Movie” would go nowhere without these conversations, and the editing strikes a not-so-easy balance between shaping loads of content into something entertaining while at the same time trying to manage a flood of Saxon-specific information. The result is an engrossing and comprehensive biography, essential viewing for anybody with even a passing interest in Saxon.
And there’s more on a second disc comprised of behind-the-scenes material, stirring live footage, in-studio scenes, various tributes from other rockers, humorous exchanges between Biff and Lemmy – much of it stemming from a recent Saxon tour with Motorhead – and a full-length concert from 2008. Then there’s the vintage video of a tight and energetic Saxon killing it in a raucous 1981 “Beat Club”performance as they charge through “Motorcycle Man,” “Hungry Years,” “Strong Arm of the Law,” “747” and a host of other favorites. It’s an immersive Saxon experience, packaged as unassailable testimony to their grossly underappreciated greatness. Stuffed to the gills with loads of fantastic Saxon material, this whole set is an absolute must-have for Saxon fans. Tea is not included, however.
-            Peter Lindblad

'You've got the gig': Motorhead 1976-1982


‘Fast’ Eddie Clarke looks back on his time in the band
By Peter Lindblad
[Ed. note - Please forgive the lack of umlaut]

The classic Motorhead lineup
Accustomed to sleeping in and not receiving unexpected visitors in the morning, as is the way with most rock and roll artists who do not subscribe to the “early to bed, early to rise” ethos, “Fast” Eddie Clarke had no intention of getting dressed to see who was calling on him at such an ungodly hour.
One Saturday well before noon in the winter of 1976, the guitarist, irritable and cranky, got up to see who had disturbed his rest. Had he known who was waiting for him on the other side, his mood would have brightened considerably.
“There’s a knock at my door, and I say, ‘What the f**k is this?’” recalls Clarke. “And so I go to the front door, and Lemmy [Kilmister] is standing there, and he’s got a bullet belt in one hand and a leather jacket in the other. And he hands them to me and he says, ‘You’ve got the gig.’”
Clarke was as surprised as anybody to hear those words come out of Lemmy’s mutton-chop framed mouth. Just like that, he’d been hired to play alongside Larry Wallis as a second guitar slinger for Motorhead, then a dirty, brash wild bunch of rock and roll outlaws dead set on building the fastest, loudest chopper of grimy, rumbling, vice-ridden proto-thrash metal nastiness that anyone had ever seen, and nobody would dare categorize it as street-legal. Before Clarke could recover from the shock, however, Lemmy was gone.
“And then he turns around and walks off (laughs),” said Clarke. “So I’m standing there in me underpants holding a bullet belt with this leather jacket, and I just say, ‘Oh, f**king great!’ I mean, I really was over the moon."
A week earlier, Clarke’s mood wasn’t so elevated. His audition for these holy sonic terrors had ended rather unceremoniously with him slipping out the door before things got worse.
“I did the audition with them,” remembers Clarke. “And Larry came down, because Larry, who was in the Pink Fairies, was the guitarist then. And he wasn’t getting on with anybody. He didn’t even talk to me. He just came in, plugged in and played the same song for half an hour. And I said, ‘Oh, bloody hell. I haven’t got this gig, have I?’ And he and Lemmy went outside and they were having words, and it’s all getting a bit tense. So I packed up me guitar and I went home, and I left Phil [“Philthy Animal” Taylor, the band’s drummer] and them there to play on. I paid the bill on the way out, though (laughs) for the rehearsal. And then I didn’t hear anything.”
That is until Lemmy showed up on his doorstep. Soon after, Wallis would leave, having rejoined a reunited Pink Fairies lineup that intended to get back to touring. All that remained then was Lemmy, “Fast” Eddie and “Philthy Animal” – the classic Motorhead lineup that would shake the earth from 1977 through 1982 with rumbling, fire-breathing touchstone LPs Motorhead (1977), Overkill (1979), Bomber (1979), Ace of Spades (1980), No Sleep ‘til Hammersmith (1981, a live album that reached #1 on the U.K. album charts) and Iron Fist (1982), the threesome’s swan song.
“Those were great days, man. They were great. I mean, there were some tough times, obviously. Motorhead was a special time for me. I mean, we were like brothers. We went through so much shit together,” said Clarke.
As siblings often do, the three had their differences, and in 1982, as Motorhead was touring America, simmering tensions bubbled over and Clarke was dismissed. Shell-shocked by the turn of events, Clarke took the first plane back to England. Back on his native soil, the exiled Clarke, still reeling from his abrupt firing, attempted to regroup, even as a growing substance abuse problem was threatening to consume him. Unbeknownst to Clarke, his next project was waiting for him at – of all places – Motorhead’s office, and it would yield an under-the-radar classic heavy metal album, Fastway’s self-titled debut.
Still, although Clarke would later experience a rollercoaster ride of emotions with Fastway, it was nothing compared to what awaited him as a member of one of the most notorious acts in metal history, Motorhead.
Life Before Motorhead
A child of the 1950s, Clarke was born in Twickenham, London to a family that immersed itself in music and did what it could to see that Clarke took an interest in it.
“My parents played a lot of music,” said Clarke. “I was lucky because they played all the old 45s they used to get, but my sister also, she was playing things like ‘Cathy’s Clown’ and Paul Anka’s ‘Diana.’ And my parents were playing a lot of the MGM stuff. So they were quite musical. There was always music going on, even though I wasn’t particularly involved in it. My dad did take me out when I was about eight or 10, he took me down to the little record shop down here, and he said, ‘Right, pick yourself out a tune.’ So the guy in the record shop played some singles, and the one I picked was Jerry Keller, ‘Here Comes Summer.’ I remember that, going back to the ‘50s.”
Near where Clarke grew up, the musical scene of the West London area exploded with vibrant creativity and an adventurous, hedonistic spirit in the 1960s.
“As I got older, living where I was in west London, well, of course, we had the Rolling Stones kicking off here up the road,” recalled Clarke. “We had Eel Pie Island just down the road here, where John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers were playing and Pink Floyd played there. Then the Cream started up over here and Fleetwood Mac – all going on in this area. So I got to walk out the door and there was a gig to go to. And I think that helped a lot. You know, I was on the front door of it all, and of course, when I realized how much people liked that, I thought, ‘Well, I’d fancy doing that.’ And I got really heavily into Eric Clapton when he was with the Yardbirds, and we used to go to the Rolling Stones, but we’re going back a few years now (laughs). That’s going back to ’63 or ’64. And the Yardbirds, of course … Eric Clapton is playing his Telecaster up there, and all this great stuff like ‘Smokestack Lightning’ and all these great blues, and I loved them to bits. And so of course, I wanted to play like that, so I started learning those tunes.”
Through the prism of the British blues boom of the ‘60s, Clarke got an education in American blues. “I was actually learning American blues tunes, but I was learning them third-hand, because they liked to copy the guys in America and I was copying them. So I was kind of like the third generation, and I had my own take on it, which I think gave me my  … I like to think I had a little bit of my own style, and I developed out of that.”
A quick study, Clarke cycled through various local bands – the Bitter End being one of them – by the age of 15. The neighbors were not so accepting of Clarke’s musical escapades.
“I was very fortunate, and then of course, there was a little band at school … we had a little band together,” said Clarke. “We used to play in me dad’s garage, and all the neighbors used to throw stones on the roof to get us to shut up (laughs). But I loved the guitar. I used to get up in the morning before I went to school, and the first thing I’d do is get clean out of bed, put my feet on the floor, and grab the guitar and have a quick five minutes on the guitar.”
Clarke’s development allowed him a chance to turn professional with Curtis Knight’s band, Zeus. As lead guitarist, Clarke helped Zeus record the album The Second Coming at Olympic Studios. He even wrote the music that backed Knight’s lyrics on a song called “The Confession” and continued on with Zeus through the making of Sea of Time. But then, Clarke got together Allan Callan, a guitarist friend of his, and keyboardist Nicky Hogarth and drummer Chris Perry for a jam session at Command Studios in Piccadilly that resulted in a record contract with Anchor Records. Calling themselves Blue Goose, Clarke, Hogarth and Perry abandoned Zeus, and Knight, to concentrate on their new project. It wouldn’t last.
Arguments erupted and Clarke left Blue Goose, going on to form another band called Continuous Performance that went nowhere and another act with Hogarth, bassist Tony Cussons and drummer Terry Slater that also flamed out. Frustrated by what seemed like a stalled career, Clarke went to work re-fitting a houseboat as he attempted to get his solo career off the ground.
“I was working and I was doing my solo album,” said Clarke. “I was working building a houseboat on the river Thames. And the money I was earning I was putting into my solo album, to record my solo album.”
Through various jobs, he had gained other skills, some of which would make him a more attractive candidate for hire than simply his guitar-playing ability.
“The reason why I started working was I had to get an amplifier became my little one use to blow up all the time,” said Clarke. “And I used to stick a screwdriver in the back and go bang! And then it would start working again. So I went to get this job fixing televisions. And the guy said, ‘Why do you want this job?’ I said, ‘We’ll, I’ve got this amplifier that keeps blowing up and I need a new one,’ and being in Motorhead, we didn’t have any money for repairs. Well, I’ll tell you, it did come in handy. It did come in handy. It helped me to no end. So, it was a great career move at the time. I didn’t realize what a great career move it was, but later on in life, it turned out to be a winner, you know.”
So was the gig working on that houseboat, through which he made a contact that would lead him to Motorhead. It was Phil Taylor.

Getting Stiffed
Lemmy, having played in Hawkwind, was certainly well-known around the haunts Clarke used to frequent. He remembers seeing Lemmy once at a party before the days of Motorhead, though Clarke didn’t get an introduction.
“So, he came in. Nobody spoke to him,” said Clarke. “But he plugged in and started playing … and I thought that he was playing rhythm guitar. I thought, ‘Oh, he keeps it together well,’ because he keeps the songs up, where other bassists are just jamming. And then I started to [see him] a little bit about, because where we started hanging out, Lemmy was always around. He’s one of these guys who’s always around. He was always around the scene, you know.”
But, it was Taylor who first made contact with Clarke.
“What happened was, I met Phil first,” recounted Clarke. “And I met Phil and Phil had gotten into Motorhead. And then Phil contacted me, and he said, ‘Look, we’re looking for a second guitarist. Would you fancy it?’ I said, ‘Yeah,’ because I wasn’t doing anything. I was working and I was doing my solo album. So, I said, ‘Yeah, fine.’ And I didn’t hear any more from Phil.”
Communication having broken down between him and Taylor, Clarke kept plugging away at finishing up the houseboat, while also taking in some of the local nightlife.
Lemmy Kilmister, Phil Taylor and 'Fast' Eddie Clarke
“Quite by chance, I picked up this bird at [this place] called the Greyhound in Fulham,” said Clarke. “It was a real big gig back in the ‘70s. I picked up this bird there, and she stayed over with me that night. And I brought her to work the next day, and she happened to work at the rehearsal room in the King’s Road in Chelsea. So I took her to work that morning. It was 11 o’clock. She had to open the doors. And who walks in? Lemmy (laughs). I said, ‘Hey, Lemmy. I’m supposed to be auditioning for your band.’ He said, ‘Oh, are you?’ I said, ‘Yeah, yeah Lemmy.’ And he said, ‘Oh, yeah, yeah.’ So I said, ‘Well, can I put it together?’ And it all seemed to come together. He said, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah.’ So, he gave me his number, and I had to organize the rehearsals. I had to pay for them, because they didn’t have any money. And I had a car, so I went and picked them up, put all their gear in the car and then dropped it off and went back to get the rest of the gear. So that was the first time I ever really had a chat with Lemmy. He seemed fine. He was one of these guys who, because he liked a bit of speed, wouldn’t sleep much. He was always on the go. Not to put too fine a point on it, and of course, I became a speed freak as well after that. He was already a speed freak. So we were speed freaks together.”
Before the sharing of drugs commenced, however, there was the little matter of Clarke’s audition. Having passed the test, Clarke soon took over as sole guitarist for Motorhead, with Wallis quitting. What Clarke wasn’t prepared for was the struggle that lay ahead.
“It was like that, it was like that, because nobody liked us,” said Clarke. “Of course, we were all wearing bullet belts and a lot of Hell’s Angels used to come to our shows. People were generally a bit scared of us. They never knew what was going to happen, you know. Although we were fine, everything was fine, but people conceived us as being … and they didn’t like our music either, because they didn’t conceive it as music. It wasn’t considered music. It hadn’t happened yet. We were sort of breaking new ground with this (makes loud guitar-like noise) and so people were actually working against us all the time. And it was difficult the first year, but the thing was solid, man. The plans were there. We’d turn up in Shitsville, Birmingham or wherever, and there’d be 30 kids there, but they were diehard fans. And Lemmy said to me, ‘Don’t worry, man. Those kids are going to go away and the next time, they’re going to bring their mates with them. The next time there’ll be 60.’”
Kilmister’s confidence was a calming influence on Clarke, whose patience was tested by the band’s poverty and a troublesome incident with Stiff Records after recording the single “Leaving Here” in December, 1976 for the label.
“Lemmy kept us all going on that, and it was true,” said Clarke. “We had quite a following in a year. But then we had this deal with Stiff Records, and we did a recording for Stiff. We didn’t have any money, so we borrowed the money and we got into all sorts of trouble, and then Stiff Records didn’t put the f**king record out. They said we’re not putting the record out because we want to put it on this Stiff compilation, which f**king finished us. We were f**king done. We were relying on that to give us a bit of a profile and get us some shows, ‘cause we didn’t have a pot to piss in. We were living off porridge and pancakes. It was one of them. And so, Stiff Records really f**ked us over. I f**king hate that label – we all, the three of us do. It was supposed to be an independent label, and sh*tsville. They really did bad by us.”
‘ … On Our Way’
“We are Motorhead … and we play rock and roll!” growls Lemmy, the way he usually does when introducing a Motorhead show. In 1976, Motorhead wasn’t playing rock and roll for very many people, and the sparsely attended gigs were demoralizing to Clarke and Taylor. In fact, it got so bad that breaking up the band seemed the only logical option.
“We were on the verge of breaking up, and we had more gig to do,” said Clarke. “It was the Marquee, and Phil said, if nobody turns up, we might as well break up after this gig. And I said, ‘Shove off.’ And he said, ‘Well, what’s the point of going on?’ I said, ‘What are you going to do anyway?’ (laughs) It wasn’t as if we had anything else to do, you know what I mean. Phil was adamant, though.”
If this was to be the end for Motorhead, they wanted to go out in a blaze of glory and record this final sendoff for posterity. “So what we tried to do was, we tried to get a mobile (recording studio) down to the Marquee,” said Clarke. “Well, it turned out, the Marquee had a recording studio linked up to the gig and they said they would do it, but it would cost … I don’t know, a thousand pounds or something, which was like the f**king king’s ransom. So Lemmy knew this guy, Ted Carroll, from Chiswick Records. He said, ‘Look, how about recording the band at the Marquee, ‘cause we’re thinking of breaking up. It’d be nice to have something to remember us by.’ And he said, ‘I can’t do that. It’s too expensive,’ because nobody had any money in the ‘70s. Those were poor times. He said, ‘But, I’ll pay for you to do a single.’”
That offer turned out to be a stay of execution of sorts.
“So after the f**king Marquee gig, we got Speedy Keen from Thunderclap Newman. He was going to produce it. He drove us down to this studio in Kent (Escape Studios), with a budget to do it … we had two days in there,” said Clarke. “And I said to the guy – ‘cause I’d done some stuff with Curtis Knight, and we’d done an album in 24 hours – ‘Look, we can do an album in this time.’ I said … ‘cause I noticed when we’d done stuff back at the pub, we’d only have to play it once. And they all go, ‘Okay, okay.’ So we laid all the backing tracks down, and then we did all the guitars and the vocals … you know, we had 24 hours and we had the whole thing down.”
When Carroll visited Motorhead to get a listen to what was supposed to be a single, Clarke and company presented all that they had done – 11 raw, unfinished tracks of cyclonic rock and roll fury, to be augmented later by two more cuts. “So when the record guy came over to hear it, we said well, we’ve got a bit more than a single,” said Clarke. “We’ve got an album. And of course, he said, ‘Wow!’ And when we played it to him, he loved it. He loved it. That was the first album, the black one [1977’s Motorhead]. And he loved it, this guy loved it. He was over the moon. And then of course, he put in a bit more money. We remixed a couple of tracks in Olympic Studios, and then we were on our way. We were on our way. There were some things that were to happen later on that would almost sidetrack us, but that’s what saved us from breaking up.”
Any thoughts of throwing in the towel were now erased completely from their minds. “It was a great thing, because we had nothing better to do … nothing” said Clarke. “And we really worked hard at it. People had pissed on us so much that we were like, ‘Well, f**k ‘em. We’ll show ‘em. We’re not going to die. We’re going to stay here and dig in.’ You’ve got to get that kind of mentality going, that sort of siege mentality.”
Clarke wasn’t the sort to throw up his hands and walk away. His background as a laborer would suggest he’d stay until the job was done. And as it turned out, Clarke was the perfect fit for Motorhead for that reason and many others. One was his look; the other was his take-charge attitude.
“Well, I had long hair and tight trousers and boots,” said Clarke, talking about the clothes he wore before joining Motorhead. “I used to wear boots and all that. But the leather jacket always eluded me. I never had enough money to buy one. And the bullet belt was a new thing for me. I didn’t know anything about the bullet belt. But I wasn’t a pansy. I was a pretty tough guy anyway, so the clothes were helpful. I think Phil had already assessed that, that I would fit in, because I was running things with this boat we were building. I was running the show. So, of course, I had to tell people what to do and people got a bit short with me. I had to deal with them, you know. And I think Phil thought that was something that would be good … I wasn’t a pansy, you know.”
The word “pansy” is not one that comes to mind when describing anybody in Motorhead. Still, there were cracks in their sneering veneer that implied a weakening of the bonds between them. After the untamed and savage Motorhead LP shot up to #43 on the U.K. charts, the band toured with Hawkwind, before embarking on the “Beyond the Threshold of Pain” tour with the Count Bishops. At home, management issues would rear up, with Tony Secunda taking over the reins. Meanwhile, as turmoil swirled within Motorhead, Clarke and Taylor branched off and formed The Muggers with Keen and Billy Rath.
Nobody was playing taps for Motorhead, though. In the summer of 1978, the band changed management again, opting to return to Douglas Smith. It was Smith who brokered a singles deal with Bronze Records that would lead to Motorhead recording “Louie, Louie.” The track charted at #68 in the U.K., giving them more momentum. In fact, it lead to their initial performance on the “Top of the Pops” TV show in England, the first of many.
“Well, we did that seven times,” said Clarke, who was not exactly comfortable doing the program. “We became the BBC’s pet band. Yeah, we were always on ‘Top of the Pops.’ Never sold any records, though, because of it, but we were always on ‘Top of the Pops.’ I think it’s because they liked to show that they could have a moody, ‘out there’ band, you know, to get a bit of credibility. What do you do? So, yeah, we did it. I mean, ‘Top of the Pops’ is the worst show. I mean, however much I drank, I could never do it without feeling like a complete prick. You stand there, and there’s an audience, and you’re miming it, and you’re thinking, ‘God, I’m f**king miming this.’ – yeah, really difficult stuff. I hated all that, you know. Lem and Phil didn’t mind so much, ‘cause Lemmy’s a real showman. I don’t care about all that, but I used to love Lemmy for that.”
Emboldened by the success of “Louie, Louie,” Bronze gave Motorhead a little more rope, extending their deal so that the band could record an album at Bronze’s studios. As Motorhead is wont to do, they left their mark there and they fought like brothers while doing so.
“Well, Overkill was our first time in a proper studio with an album deal,” said Clarke. “And we had a studio, Bronze Studios in London, and we were like, ‘Oh.’ And of course, we were just trying to get our band sounding great. We had a few bashes there. One of the bashes we had was we were so f**king drunk that Phil got sick on the ceiling – in the corridor. It was quite funny. You had these little couple of steps you had to go down, and when you went in the door, you went up again. Well, he managed to throw up and it hit the ceiling (laughs). We did have some fun. We had a few fights, me and Phil. We had our differences. We had our moments. But it was just that thing when we played Overkill, man, you know on the big speakers, with the double bass drums … I mean nobody had really done that then, not in that way. That’s why we did three endings. We did it with three endings, you know. I said, ‘Hey, let’s f**king do three endings here,’ you know. ‘We can’t do that.’ I said, ‘Why not? We’re Motorhead. We can do anything.’ And we did, and it was brilliant.”
With help from producer Jimmy Miller – whose resume had included the Rolling Stones’ Beggars Banquet, Let it Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main Street and Goats Head Soup LPs – Motorhead birthed the explosive, unrelenting Overkill, the first Motorhead LP to rocket into the U.K. Top 40 album chart and what many consider the band’s finest hour. In anticipation of the record’s release, the group … well, they mimed the flying-at-unsafe-speeds single “Overkill” on “Top of the Pops.” Those were heady days, indeed, for Motorhead.
“See that was finished in the beginning of ’79,” recalls Clarke, “because we started it in the end of ’78, end of Christmas. And then we did the show at Hammersmith November the fifth. That was also a great time, that Hammersmith Odeon [performance]. That’s like Mecca, do you know what I mean? And it was fantastic making it there. And then we did Overkill. And then straight after that … that was ’79, the beginning of ’79, we toured with Overkill, with the Girlschool thing and all that, and did some gigs in France and all that. But the record company wanted another album by the end of the summer.”
The beast had to be fed, after all. More food would be thrown down its gullet in the form of Bomber, Overkill’s hastily thrown together follow-up. Luckily, Motorhead was a well-oiled machine at this point, and with the threesome on fire in the studio, Bomber, when released, dropped a devastating payload of thermonuclear proto-speed metal on a world that had already been blown away by Overkill. Few bands have ever had a hot streak like the one Motorhead was on.
“For once, we sat down and we went into the rehearsal studio, and came out about a week later and said we’ve got all the tunes,” said Clarke. “It was brilliant man. Things like ‘Stone Dead Forever’ … I mean fantastic. So that has another thing going for it. It was just there. It was right in front of us and we just grabbed it – just fantastic.
Last bombing run
Ask Clarke to choose which album he favors, and he’ll answer with a shrug of the shoulders.
Bomber and Overkill are my favorites,” said Clarke. “I don’t know. Between the two, I’m not sure which one. I mean, there are some fabulous tracks on Bomber. Don’t get me wrong, Ace of Spades is … well, Ace of Spades is Ace of Spades. But, you know, I’m looking for something else, because that was kind of a hit record. I mean, Overkill had that … it was one of those that was just blown out. And so was Bomber. I have difficulty choosing between the two of them. They were my two favorite albums.”
And that period of the band’s history – including, of course, the Ace of Spades album – is considered by many as Motorhead’s golden age. In live settings, Motorhead took no prisoners, thrilling audiences with visceral, explosive performances and a bit of theatricality.
“The fans definitely did take to it, ‘cause the bomber … we put the bomber up in the truck, the lighting truck, the bomber came down,” said Clarke. “So, of course, the kids really appreciated that. It really was picking up speed now. It was actually on a chain hoist that would come up and down and it looked fantastic. It was an old World War II bomber, you know, come right down and touch the top of our heads and then it would go back up, and it just looked fantastic. And the kids just couldn’t believe it. I mean, the kids loved it.”
Not everyone was convinced of Motorhead’s brilliance, however. “Obviously, the critics were still telling us we were the worst band in the world, that we were f**king noisy,” said Clarke. “And if you’re a muso lover – you know what I mean – you won’t like Motorhead because we’re just so noisy and awful. But the fans loved it. But of course what happened was – it was really quite funny actually – when we did No Sleep ‘til Hammersmith, that same band that was titled ‘the worst band in the world’ … the same journalists, for the same paper said it was the best f**king live album ever. Now how is that possible when six months ago you were telling us that we were the worst band in the world? But it’s funny how people’s attitudes change, isn’t it?”
So it was within Motorhead as well. Where ideas flowed during the accelerated recording sessions of Overkill and Bomber, Clarke remembers Ace of Spades being a bit of a chore to complete.
“We were flowing,” said Clarke. “I mean we went from Overkill straight into Bomber, and we had the bomber itself, and it was just flying along. And then Ace of Spades just followed onto that. Ace of Spades was the first … well, it was the first time we had to think a little more. What we did were rehearsals. We did a sort of demo recording, an 8-track demo recording of the rehearsals. And then we worked on those, so more work had to go into the writing of that, whereas with the other ones, we just went in and banged it out. So that was the first sign that ideas were starting to get difficult, because you get a band like Motorhead, you don’t have many options. So it’s quite difficult coming up with new material all the time because you tend to be standing on your own toes. But we got through Ace of Spades, we got through it, and it was great. The “Ace of Spades” track just killed everybody, everything’s going great … it was just another step up the ladder. We did four Hammersmith Odeons, and it was f**king brilliant.”
Motorhead - Ace of Spades cover
Even the photography sessions – which can sometimes be tedious – for the cover of Ace of Spades were a blast. “Well, I loved it. We all loved it, because before that, we’d done the thing with Girlschool, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre (EP), where we dressed up like Al Capone. You know, we had machine guns, and it was brilliant,” said Clarke. “And we loved that, because we were sort of in the groove then. Photo shoots are normally a horrible thing to do, like videos. When you’re playing another part, it’s actually great, so we were really ready for it. We got all our stuff, we were all grooming beards for a few days to get a bit of stubble, you’ve got the cape out like Clint Eastwood, you’ve got the tablecloth out, you know what I mean? And we really prepared for it, and it was quite lucky because we did it in a place in north London. And it’s a sand quarry. Fortunately, the sun was shining. It all came out rather well. A lot of people say, ‘Where did you do that?’ And they think it’s like New Mexico or something. No, we did it in the north of London. And they go, ‘You’re f**king joking.’ It was one of those. It really was.”
The good times would, however, come to an end. Iron Fist was a bit of step backward for the band, and Clarke was eventually left to fend for himself on the fateful North American tour that ended so abruptly for the guitarist. Clarke went back to England and eventually formed Fastway, which released its first album in decades earlier this year. 
Looking back on it all, he still feels great affection for Lemmy and fondly recalls the heady excitement of Motorhead’s success.
“Lemmy was my friend for a lot of the time, especially in the beginning,” said Clarke. “In the beginning, I remember he said to me once … we did the first couple of shows we ever did in ’76, and we had some bad reviews, and I was teed off a bit. And he said to me, ‘Look, man. You’re going to get a lot of this. You really just have to ignore them and carry on. I’ve had loads of them in my lifetime,’ he said. ‘You just have to ignore them and carry on, ‘cause people are going to write that shit.’ And that was the nice thing about working with Lem, because I was a bit of a greenhorn, so having Lemmy give me a few pointers here and there was quite helpful. It got you through the hard times when people are putting you down and you go and do a bad gig and you feel like hanging yourself, you know. Lemmy was always there.”
It’s hard to imagine a world without him … and Motorhead, of course.