It is likely that (at least in Europe) heavy metal owes its very survival to Motorhead. It was they, in fact, who redefined hard rock on the basis of the punk ethos.
It was no coincidence that the group was born from a branch of
Hawkwind,
the legendary “space-rock” commando, who—precisely because they always remained halfway between psychedelia and hard rock, between underground and mainstream—had never managed to achieve mass success, but had nonetheless created a unique sound.
On those foundations bassist Ian “Lemmy” Kilmister and guitarist Larry Wallis (later Eddie Clarke), with Phil Taylor on drums, built the new group, named after the wild rock’n’roll song “Motorhead,” which had been Kilmister’s last composition for Hawkwind. Their first album in 1977 (for Chiswick) was still largely indebted to the Hawkwind style (“Lost Johnny,” “White Line Fever”), but the intricate and “heavily crushing” nightmare of “Iron Horse” opened new horizons for heavy metal.
That, in fact, was the sound pursued by the classic trio up to 1979:
Overkill (Bronze), with the incendiary and torrential “Metropolis” at breakneck speed, the elaborate “Stay Clean” (with Lemmy’s best bass solo), the brash “No Class” (with a southern boogie flair), and the menacing yet no less frenzied title track;
Bomber, with its hyper-kinetic title track, “Dead Men Tell No Tales” and the savage “Stone Dead Forever”; the EP
Golden Years, with the breathless “Too Late” (almost punk rock);
Ace of Spades (Mercury, 1980 – Earmark, 2003), with the demonic blues-rock of the title track (featuring perhaps Clarke’s best solo), the heavy, cadenced “Jailbait” and “The Road Crew”; and
Iron Fist (1982), which rolled out the usual overwhelming title track. Motorhead did nothing but repeat the same song over and over, but it was the rock’n’roll song, and their rough-hewn sound (bass played like a guitar, strangled vocals, concise and lightning-fast guitar solos) ended up exerting enormous influence on new generations of heavy metal.
Clarke left in 1982, and Another Perfect Day immediately showed the effects. Taylor also left, and Kilmister took three years to rebuild the lineup. In the meantime (1984) the single “Killed by Death” was released—the quintessence of their art and one of the most brutal and vulgar songs of the year.
Orgasmatron (GWR)
was released in 1986 and was a triumph of the group’s raw instincts. “Deaf Forever” heralds a style at once heavier and more melodic, but then, from the anthemic, driving rock’n’roll of “Ain’t My Crime” to the epileptic thrash of “Claw” and “Ridin’ With the Driver,” Motorhead never let up for a second. The tempo is always furious, the guitars blaze at galactic speed, the drums pummel relentlessly, and the vocals croak out virile proclamations. “Doctor Rock” and “Built for Speed” are nonetheless two of their catchiest compositions, almost (extremely tough) ballads. The title track slows the tempo and experiments with a morbid atmosphere, somewhere between the Velvet Underground and horror cinema. Far from aging, Kilmister and his horde of barbarians whip up an orgy of ungainly rock’n’roll worthy of the MC5, offsetting some repetition with equally bold experiments.
But those stereotypes were repeated ad nauseam on the next work,
Rock and Roll (1987), with intriguing results only in “Eat the Rich” (and Taylor once again on drums).
Having reached the end of a road, Motorhead did not hesitate to change direction. This happened with the very ambitious
1916 (WTG, 1991):
the songs are more polished (if not better played…) and above all more varied. Kilmister does not hesitate to acknowledge one of their sources of inspiration in “The One to Sing the Blues” and sketches “I’m So Bad,” the rebellious anthem of the moment, before launching into the usual reckless boogie slalom (“Going to Brazil,” “Angel City”), which makes up the album’s core. Melody, however, bursts in forcefully, permeating the power pop of “No Voices in the Sky”—almost pathetic compared to their earlier repertoire—and the (mediocre) ballad “Love Me Forever.” “Nightmare” and the title track even experiment with atmospheric arrangements and orchestrations, in stark contrast to the walls of riffs the band had accustomed its audience to. Another breakthrough work that closed one era and opened another,
1916
confirmed Kilmister’s immortality.
The alternation of masterpieces and failures continued with the sterile
March or Die (1992), devoid of the energy and spirit of Orgasmatron, devoid of the imagination and maturity of 1916.
Bastards (ZYX), however, confirmed them still capable of two anthems: “Born to Raise Hell” and “We Bring the Shake.”
Sacrifice (CMC)
celebrated their 20th anniversary with a sound that, for better or worse, was exactly the same as in their beginnings. And so it was with
Overnight Sensation (CMC, 1996)
Snake Bite Love (1998), We Are Motorhead (2000),
and
Hammered (2002).
Stone Dead Forever (2003) is a two-disc anthology including (too many)
rarities.
Inferno (Sanctuary, 2004), possibly the best one of the new century
(or, at least, the least predictable),
Kiss of Death (2006),
Motorizer (2008) and
The World Is Yours (2011)
are exactly the same album that the Motorhead
had been doing for 30 years.
Motorhead's drummer Phil Taylor died in 2015.
Kilminster died in december 2015.
