Fri. April 23

A couple of Lemmy stories. I’m in London, 1985, waiting for Larry Wallis – of the late great Pink Faires – to take the stage at Dingwalls. I’m playing pinball. Mutton-chopped guy comes up to me, taps me on the shoulder and croaks, “Got ten pence?” I look up. “Lemmy!” He’s a little suspicious. He is Lemmy, of course, the main man behind Motorhead. But who knows who I might be and from what phase of his life? I quickly identify myself – I’d interviewed him and reviewed Motorhead for the Boston Globe – and we were, friends of a sort. All was well. An evening of pinball, rock and whiskey proceed … Years later, in Boston, upstairs at Axis after Motorhead’s played a show with Nashville Pussy. Lemmy and I are doing the whiskey thing again and talking. I ask how long he can keep doing this. Ferocious, hard rock/metal is, you know, more a young man’s game. He looks at me, incredulous: “What else am I gonna do? Host a talk show?” (Actually, he’d be pretty good at that …. ) But point taken: Motorhead is his life and Motorhead is every-metalheads touchstone, but they’re less a metal band and more a hard rock/punk that plays fast, loud and visceral, with Lemmy barking out philosophies of life like “Killed by Death” and “Ace of Spades” as the train rattles along hot rails to hell. That was them, again last year at House of Blues. (I posted excerpts of a review I did for the Boston Herald on it below.)

All this, sparked by "Lemmy," the doc that debuted at SXSW this year, “Lemmy” is at is at the Somerville Theatre at 10 tonight, April 23, a part of the Boston Independent Film Festival. It’s directed by Wes Orshoski & Greg Olliver. The two spent three years following Lemmy (real name Ian Kilmister) around the planet — from his Hollywood home, filled with, um, WWII memorbilia to of Russia. (“Rocket to Russia”?) Dave Grhol, Ozzy, Slash, Billy Bob Thornton and wrestler Triple H show up to talk about their pal.
One thing about Motorhead: They’ve moved out of the punk/metal ghetto and toward the top of the most-respected heap. They’ve always been there in my book, but there’s a lot more flash/oung/"cutting edge" bands than Motorhead out there and, by and large, they’re going to keep grinding over the same ground they’ve covered for years. Like one song, you’ll like the variations. (Counter: “1916” is one of the most poignant anti-war ballads you’ll ever here. Billy Bragg would be proud of it. I don't think Motohread ever plays it live, but find it on disc or on-line.)

The movie will run you $9.

Excerpt from Boston Herald review last year
     Phil Spector had his “wall of sound.” Motorhead has theirs.
     Motorhead’s is not layered and lush. Motorhead’s is a big towering slab of speedy, aggressive rock situated somewhere between heavy metal and punk.
     Their motto, as you could spot on t-shirts at House of Blues, is “Everything Louder Than Everything Else.” Before their set in front of a packed house, I asked their soundman Stejan Sjoland – he of six years and  500-plus gigs – if the mixing board was the best vantage point. He laughed and replied, “It sounds like [expletive] everywhere.”
      Fair enough, It’s not the cleanest sound you’ll ever hear. You put your earplugs in and let the accelerated steamroller of sound flatten you. In a good way.   
      The best description I’ve read concerning Motorhead’s lineup was this: “Lemmy and two or three guys who are not Lemmy.” That is, seven other members have held spots in the band, but it’s always revolved around the sound and vision of barking 63-year-old singer-songwriter-bassist Ian Kilmister, always referred to by his nickname, Lemmy.
   However, the lineup that played Boston – including guitarist Phil Campbell and drummer Mikkycq Dee – has been together 17 years. That’s as close to permanent as it gets. (Dee now embarks on a two-week hiatus to film the Swedish version of "I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here!” Velvet Revolver drummer Matt Sorum, who was at the show studying for his temp job, will fill his spot.)
    Things don’t evolve in Motorhead’s world. Their latest album, “Motorizer,” could have been made at any point over the past three decades. They played just two of its songs, “Rock Out,” a celebration of all things loud, and “The Thousand Names of God,” an anti-war thrasher. Motorhead is not up there to move product. They’re there, as Lemmy said at the beginning “to play rock ‘n’ roll” At the end he summarized, “Don’t forget, we are Motorhead and we play [expletive] rock.” Just in case you missed it.
   They began with “Iron Fist,” ripped through “Over the Top” and “Another Perfect Day,” and closed the regular set with classics, “Killed By Death” (showing a Spinal Tap level of cleverness), “In the Name of Tragedy” (dedicated to William Shakespeare) and “Bomber.”  Encores included “Whorehouse Blues,” their best-known rocker “Ace of Spades” and “Overkill.”
     Like AC/DC, evolution is not in Motorhead’s vocabulary. Supplying a bludgeoning sound and a ferocious, cathartic release is.

55 Davis Square, Somerville, 617-625-4088  www.somervilletheatreonline.com