Motörhead frontman Lemmy is a legend. I’ve heard a hundred times his name and forget him ninety-nine times. For umlauts, however, I am interested. I know none of the hitherto 21 Motörhead albums, but I have read all nine volumes of “Greg’s Diary” and annoyed me nine times about the fact that the heavy metal band of Greg’s big brother Roderick in the German translation “Folle Vindel” means and not as in the original “Löded Diper”.
the loss of the heavy metal umlaut I find the worse as you continue to Roderick smaller orthographic uncertainty ( has passed “Vindel” instead of “diaper”, “Diper” instead of “Diaper”). Behind this misspelling namely hides, as I believe in my Motörhead experience, the fatal arrogance of non-Metallers. Roderick is a wild, but good boy. Greg, however, is an uptight nerd. Instead ass off, he plays incessantly computer, and at the very worst is yet a gunman from him.
That someone, of the 22 Motörhead- album “Bad Magic” has heard afterwards has the power to a killing spree, I can not believe. Who often enough “Choking on Your Screams” has mitgeschrien (the eleventh after ten exhausting songs), is indeed afterwards exactly immune from: At his screams he will not suffocate. “Out on the stage ‘out of a cage,” I have taken from the matte black booklet in which poetologically important lines unfortunately are difficult to emphasize with the highlighter, and afterwards asked me if it’s not just metal umlaut, but also Metal -Apostrophe are. “R’ck d’ts” instead of “Roeck Doets” so to speak, but “‘N Sync” speaks against it. In addition, apostrophes are an Anglo-thing, they lack the “Germanic hardness”.
Such rather basic considerations defiance: The Music even then it was a shock. I have the promo CD (right?) Nothing suspecting pushed into the CD slot in the car. The boy (in the back) the window has hochgekurbelt because I was embarrassed; the girl (in the back) has hardly complained audibly while the dog (even in the back seat, he does not remain in the trunk) already Lemmy Kilmisters first remarks (“Victory or Die”) can not tolerate and frantically against the driving guitars (correctly ?) has angejault.
Song number two (“Thunder & amp; Lightning”) aggravated the crisis even more: “Life on the road is not easy,” roared Lemmy. After song number three finally (“Firestorm Hotel”) we started in spite of all good intentions temporarily from: “I want to understand it / I want to believe.” (Motörhead lyrics seem to fit anything and everything; at least they have so common with ordinary pop lyrics.)
Better, I’ll basically again: The Haus der Kunst (home of Neo-Geo, the metafiction and the True Metal) is now indeed a building niches, all without hallways or foyers. The grand staircases to the enjoyment of art are gone, wing doors that open onto sublime halls, there is as little as these halls themselves, instead you stumble always the same over the next few poorly lit angle, perhaps the sudden interest “of well-known media” (dpa) declared on interviews with Lemmy (“I’d like to know myself”).
Maybe one must just long enough are in the same area, so that people will find the way to a. Lemmy any case must be some sort schwermetallischer Konrad Adenauer be (“No experiments”).
An unfortunately not representative survey in my acquaintance has indeed shown that even former Headbanger only one Motörhead song reliably detect (“Ace of Spades” is his name), but on the other hand are quite capable of identifying the Motörhead sound itself – a phenomenon that “Black Magic” basically confirmed.
Ultimately, namely it makes so much sense, between “Shoot Out All of Your Lights” (song no. 4), “The Devil” (5) , “Electricity” (6) or “Evil Eye” (7) to distinguish, they must be subdivided into a tirade of Thomas Bernhard in paragraphs. At best, individual songs distinguished by their position on the Kick-Ass-scale, where “Black Magic” apparently climbs quite high here. Motörhead playing for forty years.
It may owe the acoustic vibration in itself, but after twelve new songs (and a stupid Rolling Stones Cover) point I myself suddenly three elderly men in a pew in front, with smelling colognes hymnals. Eyes fixed on the altar, they sing hymns about death and the devil, the evil eye and black magic. It does not sound like that because it’s the metalheads embarrassing, but at the end is “Bad Magic” devotion and heilö world.
“The holiday replacement “is the summer series of” world “-Feuilletons. Colleagues disappear into the holiday, the rows in the newsroom are thinning. So we have to improvise the roster – and leave once a week colleagues report on a subject in which he was not actually in the fabric. Who knows what it’s good.
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