motorfuckinhead

Every new year at midnight I join hands with friends in that traditional cross-armed way and sing Ace of Spades.

Tonight, I finally went to see Motorhead live. I just heard Ace of Spades as loud as I'll ever hear it. The sense of glory and satisfaction is hard to articulate. My ears are still ringing. Fuckin A.

I'd use this as a prompt to put some Motorhead rarity up on Dust on The Stylus - like I did when Pixies blew me away last year - but I don't have any. Don't own an album even, and feel I'm unlikely ever to do so. Yet they are something perfect and the concert was little short of sacramental.

It's been tough trying to find someone who'll go with me to Motorhead. People seem to think that cos they don't know many tracks it won't be any good. That's such a load of arse. When you go to see a bebop sax player or an Indian sitarist you don't know the tunes; you immerse yourself in this ocean of sound that they improvise, you bob about on the emotional waves they generate. Same with Motorhead. It's all got that fantastic rumble and frenetic pace and Lemmy doing that unintelligible straining growl. A couple of lines up the nose and a bottle of something strong down the neck and you're away. As pure and brilliant a musical experience as you'll get.

And I love what Lemmy stands for. The way he's still at it, not mellowed or sold out at all. The people who see that sort of wilting as inevitable are just trying to make excuses for their cop-outs and failings. Lemmy is a clear reminder of this and an inspiration to keep fuckin hammering away.

"We are Motorhead and we play rock n roll," he said before the first song.

Before the last song he told us, "we are Motorhead and we play rock n fuckin roll".

I am deeply spiritually grateful that both points are true.