»I was alone, she was a woman.« The usual, you know. Pain, death and dishonesty. The usual stuff, you know. And sex (You only need a good vocabulary and an open mind to translate it). »Another town I’ve left behind, Another drink completely blind, Another hotel I can’t find, Another backstage pass for you, Another tube of super glue, Another border to get through, I’m driving like a maniac, Driving my way to hell and back, Another room a case to pack, We Are The Road Crew. I don’t know what I like, I don’t know what I am, I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t give a damn. You don’t see why I stay, why I don’t turn and run. You live in constant sorrow, and I refuse to follow.«
You just have to go where you can, you know what I mean? I’ve always thought he was a good kid (Paul) ever since he was like six or something, when I first met him. I met him at a dope deal you know. I was in the kitchen waiting for this guy to arrive with the hash. And this little kid comes in, going like »daddy«, right? »My mommy’s in the next room.« And sure enough, there she was! The center of conversation. His mother used to lock him in the fucking house when she went out. She was very possessive. She dressed him up as a rock star from the age of five onwards. Little studded jeans and shit. She had him like busking in the street with a pig-nose amplifier when he was seven. That’s in the movie too though you know. It’s really nuts. And she tried to get him married to a person of her choice you know. Tried to direct his life at all times you know. And I suppose you would turn out like that being brought up by yourself. My mom was a bit like that. She brought me up on her own. Turned out alright. I got a job at the riding school because I loved horses. I still do. We had a good time there because horses make women horny. There’s a sexual power to a horse. Women would rather ride a horse bareback, and it’s not for the obvious reasons. I think it’s to feel the animal’s body next to the skin.
»Go ahead put the blame on me, another reason to disagree. Before too long, no more singers, no more songs. Don’t speak the truth, only lies, all we need is a reason why. Right now, right here, lose your mind, but show no fear. Burn slow, no excuse, so unkind, born to lose.« … And he was saying that Motörhead doesn’t really fit with anybody: After 35 years don’t we deserve our own category? They never thought our songs were worthwhile, which I think the lot of them are you know. We’ve done three consistently really good albums, the last three I mean. So that really pissed me off, you know. I’m standing there with a Grammy, what did I get this for? For the bad cover on Whiplash? And all the shit we’ve done over the years, you know, and not a single thing for that. So fuck ‚em.
»Time goes by in its own bad way, your life stuck under the wheels. Rock’n’Roll music is the true religion. Never let you down you can dance to the rhythm … Make you feel good, get some real wood, Rock’n’Roll music is the true religion. Never let you down you can dance to the rhythm. Rock’n’Roll music is my religion. I don’t need no miracle vision. Rock’n’Roll, you know you can’t refuse it.« – That’s a Johnny Cash song. I got that record when I was 14. I’ve always loved that song. »Whose version of Eddie Cochran’s »Somethin‘ Else« do you prefer? Yours or Sid Vicious‘?« Well, we’re both doing the same version basically! There’s only one way to do that song. Cochran still did the best version of it. But the drum sound on that is fucking ferocious for 1958, that’s ridiculous! I bought that back then when it came out. I think the b-side was something like »Have I told you lately that I fucking love you!« You’d be schmaltz by now, Cochran! He’d be in Vegas, you know what I mean? Seventy years old going »Hello everybody! Here’s another one of my greatest hits!« … »You know the chase is better than the catch. You will never be remembered, no one knows your name. When the music changes then all is broken down, monsters rule your world, are you too scared to understand? Our legacy is lunacy, brotherhood of man.«
Are there any artists you still want to work with? Janet Jackson maybe! Are you listening to any new music? Lots. Who inspired you to become who you are today? Women and Little Richard. What do you do in your spare time? Spare time? »You win some, lose some, all the same to me. The pleasure is to play, makes no difference what you say, I don’t share your greed, the only card I need is The Ace Of Spades. Smiling girls with sharp white teeth are waiting in the night, underneath the city, the alligators sing. And Sally buys her underwear, from a store where no-one goes, she makes it big in photographs, on the strength of what she shows.« (I have a sneaky passion for Mariska Hargitay – Jayne Mansfield’s daughter. She looks as if she has almost the chest her mother had. It’s hard to tell under those clothes, you know, being a hard-bitten police woman. And it’s not the uniform, ‚cos she doesn’t wear one. She’s plain clothes, you know).
What else do you do to entertain yourself on the road? I still occasionally chase women. We went out to this strip club last night. It’s quite a good one, that one. We went to a couple of others the first couple of days and they weren’t very good, you know. »Weight Watchers Weekly« you know? (laughs). »Well there ain’t no other woman that can make me feel this way: PLEASE DON’T TOUCH / I shake so much, PLEASE DON’T TOUCH / I shake so much… Sneaking up the stairway, running like a thief, Spend the night shaking like a leaf: PLEASE DON’T TOUCH / I shake so much, PLEASE DON’T TOUCH / I shake so much / Well I get so nervous when I see his eyes that shine, gets too close and a chill runs down my spine: PLEASE DON’T TOUCH / I shake so much.«
The Slits are touring now too: I know! They were fucking awful then, I don’t know what they’re like now. And New York would be one of the places where they’d be lionized, wouldn’t it? The Slits. I mean, back then it was a joke. I used to fuck the drummer, you know. Palmolive. Spanish girl, she could hardly speak English. And then Viva was with Sid now and again. CBGB’s was fucking awful! Hellhole! That’s really interesting because Motörhead is so political, and you have so much more to say, but it’s delivered in such a different way: We’re very political. I hate the lot of them. »Know you’re fast, hope you’re quick, quick draw gun law make your hit. Outlaw, that’s all. Live or die, win or lose, can’t be sure, no excuse. Just in time, lightning speed, frozen moment, time to bleed. Know it’s quick, hanging tree, courthouse, whorehouse set you free. Born to live, don’t know how long, never know right from wrong.«
I mean, it was 30 below in Moscow. Fucking 30 below! I mean, spit froze before it hit the sidewalk, right? It’s fucking chilly. The Russian fans are doing better than the Bulgarian fans. We’ve only been there twice in our lives! And better than the Chinese fans, if there are any, because we’ve never been there… »(We Are) The Road Crew: Another town, another place, another girl, another face, another truce, another race, I’m eating junk, feeling bad, another night, I’m going mad, my woman’s leaving, I feel sad, but I just love the life I lead, another beer is what I need, another gig my ears bleed, We Are The Road Crew. Another town I’ve left behind, another drink completely blind, another hotel I can’t find, another backstage pass for you, another tube of super glue, another border to get through, I’m driving like a maniac, driving my way to hell and back, another room a case to pack, We Are The Road Crew. Another hotel we can burn, another screw, another turn, another Europe map to learn, another truck stop on the way, another game I learn to play, another word I learn to say, another bloody customs post, another fucking foreign coast, another set of scars to boast, We Are The Road Crew. – I’m kind of tired of being celebrated for being old – we’ve gained acceptance, but not respect: »I am not interested in money. I just want to be wonderful« (Marilyn Monroe).
*(all interview extracts by Sarah L. Myers, www.staythirstymedia.com)
Translated into German by Friederike Kulcsar: skug Vol. 86, 4-6/2011
»german version
Motörhead: »The Wörld is Yours« (Motörhead Music/EMI)
–
Ian Fraser »Lemmy« Kilmister (* 24. Dezember 1945 in Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, UK; † 28. Dezember 2015 in Los Angeles
