It’s a bit surreal to be writing a review which has been at least co-created by someone who has had such a large part to play in the formative teenage years of my life. I’m not actually talking about Lemmy at this juncture – but instead of Alan Burridge, who will be known to many of our readers as the driving force behind the Motorheadbangers, the official Motorhead Fan Club. As a youngster, I was too poor to join the fan club (not that it was an expensive matter, but such was the depths of our poverty), but my hard-rocking amigo Ian Miller could afford such a luxury. Hence, by vicarious means I would read the fanzine just as soon as he had finished with it. We’d also see his name on the inside liner notes of various Motorhead albums and cassettes. It has, therefore, been a real pleasure to read the book.
Lemmy Kilmister (I shall just call the book that from now on for reasons of space!) is an exquisitely put together book. There is already an autobiography of course, in “White Line Fever”, which more or less tells his life story in his own inimical words. This is a fascinating tome for anyone with more than a passing interest in the professional life of the man himself, as seen through the lense of a life long Motorhead ultra-fan. It’s this charming change of perspective that made the book come alive, so much for me. In terms of the meat of the text, this takes a canter through the material that Lemmy recorded that wasn’t Motorhead. There is a huge amount of releases here – whether they be live performances with other bands (as with the expected The Damned and Hawkwind shows), or producing other bands (Warfare – Metal Anarchy, 1986, anyone? Bueller? Bueller?), the usual tribute albums and other such curios, as well as the appearances in films (and there are waaaaaay more than I had known about catalogued here). In the 192 pages here, the collector (or, indeed trivia-obsessed enthusiast – and we all know how large that the intersection between Heavy Metal fan and Trivia Savant is on that particular diagram), is treated to a wholly comprehensive listing, complete with catalogue numbers, track listings, art (where appropriate) and the like.
Running alongside are some really nice little interviews, sometimes as short as a sentence or two from the collaborator. The real treat for me are the reminiscences of Alan himself, talking about trudging through half the country on our crap rail network, just to spend the afternoon with the band. There are some really nice stories here – like Lemmy ringing Alan up following him not being allowed backstage at a gig, and apologising for the zealousness of the security, or driving through the night on a coach, only to have to wake the driver up when he awoke at the red lights. There is also a kind of fearful symmetry to Alan’s own story towards the end of the book, where (and I shan’t ruin the book – I found it a truly emotional section) his own personal story takes an interesting, if devastating twist that has some parallels with Lemmy’s own failing health.
This is an excellent release, though one that is destined to appeal mostly to the die hard Motorhead fans that would watch them on every tour (my own hand is up), and want to know what else they can find from the extensive Lemmy back catalogue. That being said, there is a huge amount of other information here – the back stage stories, the shared houses and late nights, the promo-vinyl and send-out Chinese take aways. There is a story of humanity hidden between the life lived in noise, and whiskey and speed. As such, there is more here than meets the eye; and if that isn’t a metaphor for the life of the man itself, I don’t know what is.
(9/10 Chris Davison)
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