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  Lemmy of Motorhead
Lemmy of Motorhead at the World,
New York City, April 30, 2002
Photo by Glyn Emmerson, © 2002 NY Rock


All The World Is Lemmy's: Motorhead at the World in New York City, by Spyder Darling

"We don't want to hurt your ears. We want to destroy them." Thus spoke St. Lemmy, the patron saint of hearing-impaired head-bangers, from his pulpit above the mosh pit at the World. The venue is New York City's unruly underground oasis in the midst of the newly dignified and Disney-fied Times Square. Though the neighborhood hookers, pushers and peep shows may live only in fading crack-scented memories, for one night at least property values plummeted to the tune of Motorhead's lager-swilling rock 'n' roll. And to their credit (and the Quality of Life council's dismay), Motorhead lived up to their quarter-century-old reputation. The band that boasted if they moved in next door your lawn would die, proved it with each of Lemmy's growls, 18-year-veteran axe-man Phil Campbell's rhino riffs and new-kid drummer (a mere tadpole at only ten years on tour) Mickey Dee's skull-crushing back beat.

In town to promote their new CD Hammered, lead-singer Lemmy kick-started Motorhead's show by dedicating it to New York City's firefighters, some of whom had taken the band on a tour of Ground Zero earlier in the day. With due respect given to the city and its defenders, the band launched into a roaring rendition of "We Are Motorhead," off 2000's studio album of the same name. And so Lemmy and his rock-n-roll war horses stampeded out of the gate and maintained their neck-breaking pace through a hard-as-steel set list that included ancient favorites like "No Class" and "Bomber" as well as "Brave New World" and "The Game" off the new disc.

Motorhead have no need for fog machines, laser beams or giant mechanical demons. Just give 'em white light, electricity (800 watts for Phil's guitar set up alone) and plenty of Jack Daniels, beer and hard cider backstage. Given that, the band will thunder all night long.

Lemmy of Motorhead
Lemmy of Motorhead at the World,
New York City, April 30, 2002
Photo by Glyn Emmerson, © 2002 NY Rock

  
There were a couple of extra noisy treats for any punks in the World that night. One was Motorhead's cover of the Sex Pistols' "God Save the Queen," a cheeky choice considering this is the Queen Mum's 50th jubilee year. Another was the tune "Ramones" from the band's 1916 CD. Lemmy dedicated the number to the Ramones' late great frontman, and Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame inductee, Joey Ramone.

For a band with less radio play than Slayer, most everyone in the World shouted along to Motorhead's tribute to Joey as well as to such nuggets as "Born to Raise Hell," "Western Movies" and "Sacrifice." Still, some of the band's newer fans were doubtless disappointed that WWF sports entertainer Triple H was a no-show when Motorhead performed "The Game" (H3's entrance theme and a bonus track on the Hammered CD). According to guitarist Phil Campbell, whom I spoke with by phone a few days after the show, Triple H was "really pissed with the promoter 'cause the promoter had booked us on a night when they were filming Smackdown somewhere." Not that the night was devoid of guest appearances. Drummer Carmine Appice (for acts such as Vanilla Fudge, Jeff Beck and Rod Stewart) came out to give Mickey Dee a beer and piss break. Appice proceeded to bash the skins on a balls-out version of the Chuck Berry-ish boogie "Going to Brazil."

But wait, hold the megaphone, the best bellowing was still to come. Lemmy and his cacophonous compadres closed out the fetid festivities with yet another love song for the Grim Reaper, "Killed by Death." And then, like a right cross to the teeth, "Iron Fist" followed. The tune also made for a TKO combo with the obligatory and closest thing to a hit single the band has yet to see, "Ace of Spades." The group's traditional coup de-kick-your-ass encore of "Overkill" closed the show, which, despite volume levels that would make Spinal Tap call the cops, somehow got louder still as it rumbled along. In its wake, it left a wash of eardrum piercing feedback, beer-soaked cheers and slippery-stomping feet as the house lights switched on and the crowd began its journey home, ears ringing, necks aching and generally in need of a good washing. Kilmister (Lemmy's real last name) and his van of villains have been rolling into New York City every year or so since '79 but "tonight was the best," he said at the end of the show. Campbell later mentioned that they're "getting better with age." It'd be hard to find anyone in the World who would argue with them there. Or argue with these guys about anything.

Though the war against good taste and moral righteousness in Times Square may be lost, for one night at least Motorhead had the battle won and then some. And with Triple H on their side, who knows what fate might await the "Quality of Lifers" when Lemmy, Phil and Mickey come around again. You heard it hear first, that's if you can hear at all if you were there when Motorhead rocked the World.

June 2002

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