Like a particularly stubborn oil-stain on your favourite pair of jeans, Motorhead simply refuse to fade away gracefully. Tonight's gruntfest was to celebrate 25 years in the business and true to form Lemmy's looking as rough as a warthog's a**e sh**ing pinecones. Good to see something's don't change then pretty much like the foot to the floor three-chord thrash that makes up tonight's gig and indeed their entire far-from-illustrious career.
Cited by Primal Scream's Bobby Gillespie as a true bearer of the rock 'n' roll flame what he and Lemmy also share is a deep love of gut-wrenching power-chords - oh yeah, and a dubious fondness for slinky Nazi- chic but we''ll skate over that, eh Bob... It's hard though not to see where Bobby's coming from, musically anyway. 'Overkill', 'Ace of Spades' and the monumental Motorhead still rock like a p**s-up in a Hezbollah bunker, Lemmy's head-back style of growling surely where the boy Liam got his simian singing stance from.
As an added bonus the beclogged Brian May flounces on and widdles a few screeches from his axe - and here's us without anything hard to hurl - and we also get the admittedly impressive if ever-so-slightly Spinal Tap descent of the lit up Junkers aeroplane backdrop for the mighty 'Bomber'.
The best rock 'n' roll band in the world they might be although AC/DC might have something to say about that - never mind Reef….ok maybe not - they remain an essentially primal experience.
More than anything though what Motorhead have always been is SMELLY. They look and play like they f**king stench and in these fragrant times you sometimes need a good, stale funk to kick-start the soul. Music to stink to, they are that giddy rush that too much excitement can sometimes induce. And that filthy-trousered thought is pretty much where we came in.
