A Personal Tribute

October 18th 2003 was a Saturday night, and MOTÖRHEAD were playing the Hammersmith Apollo. Justin Crane blagged some tickets from the generous Mr David Blair, who was crew for the Hammered tour. I'd heard 'Walk a Crooked Mile' on local radio so I knew that the new material was strong as ever. Looking back it must have been on an early Neil Jones Star Rock Show, cos no other bugger would've played it!

Anyhoo, we ended up getting backstage during the set and I remember thinking it was just insanely loud even with the speakers facing out to the crowd, and I couldn't take my eyes off Lemmy, just a few feet away. The words 'that's LEMMY, right fucking there...' kept running through my mind. I might have even said it out loud, but no one would have heard me if I did (not even me). They played a storming gig, a masterclass in true rock and roll - no bullshit, no fake posturing - authentic, raw, arse-kicking Rock and Roll.

Glastonbury 2015

Just as I thought it couldn't get any better, the heart-attack inducing drumbeat of Overkill had started to close the gig, when GINGER WILDHEART came striding past us to join Lemmy on stage, slinging his guitar on as he walked. In my mind it was slow motion, I like to think he gave us a knowing wink as he walked on (he almost certainly didn't, but it's my memory, so fuck off). Now, Ginger is my musical hero. Straight up, more than anyone else is, even Lemmy. But seeing him grinning like a school kid as he played with Sir Kilmister made me realise the context - Lemmy was my hero's hero.

Lemmy and Ginger at Hammersmith Apollo

I bailed before the after-show with some lame excuse, cos these were the days before I spoke honestly about depression; and way before I got the bastard in its current choke hold.


No regrets though. Still haven't lost the ticket. Still haven't lost the memories. Still haven't lost Justin. Two outta three ain't bad.


Matt Deacon