The day that I should meet him started at seven clock in the morning. As always, I stood in the kitchen, shaking the bottle of milk for my two year old daughter, it was still quiet in Hamburg , the sun was shining and I looked at the road. A taxi stopped. I saw a man, young, in a tuxedo, somehow you could see how he gave the driver bills and opened the door. Then he flopped out and was half and half sat on the street. He laughed and looked at me. He was completely drunk and only his tuxedo holding it together yet. It was warm and I went to the balcony, the milk bottle in one hand, a cigarette in the other hand. I waved to him with the cigarette, thinking about this set of Kierkegaard “longing greets the person I am, the one that I want to be” or something like that.
I was not eternal drunk flopped seven in the morning from a tax. Longer not as eternal. Two hours later I was in the ICE on the way to Berlin and thought about whether the drunk in a tuxedo might have a better life than I do. Whether he has let out the sow at night if he chickened out brides in the butt if he smoked in his tuxedo and geschnabelt vodka glasses with the mouth from the ground and poured into itself. If you moves to Lemmy, you can only think such things
.
“Lemmy who …?”
Sounds strange at first glance, to meet Motörhead Lemmy for this journal. Does not really. Lemmy is not beautiful, not young, not smart, not correct, not nothing. Except maybe rich, which he also denies that later. It may be that many now “Lemmy who …?” ask. But these are the ones who listen to music though, but are not interested in music and have a CD by Norah Jones or Michael Bublé and hear, as if they would turn an indoor fountain. Lemmy so. If you were to hear some Motörhead plate at full volume, you would have to then renovate the apartment. Everything would have flown off the walls, books subject tattered broken on the floor, glasses.
Motörhead is heavy rock, played by a drummer, a guitarist and Lemmy on bass and vocals. Well, singing, Lemmy barking, crowing and rumbles more words out what is not an insult in its genre, rather the opposite. “Dirty riffs, rumbling double bass drum and manic hateful Reibeisenorgan – Motörhead At Their Best sickest”. Writes a record company over the past “psychopath of Rock”
It is pure anger
While reading the ICE to Berlin, one meets Matthias Matussek who really always wearing red suspenders, these hideous ICE Espresso drinks and when he is told to be on the way to Lemmy, he’s laughing “Oh, who …?”. One would have liked to talk with Matussek whether he as a teenager also scrubbed air guitar and shouted “Eat the Rich”, a song by Motörhead, incidentally. Or if he has dutifully played the violin and his wildness that opportunity today by loving Germany so angry. But as the train was already in Berlin, Matussek up and away and now it was no longer strange to meet Lemmy for this journal. Because we were all angry times. Not sour or so, but
Live Fiercely. If we are honest, but the only good thing is up to us what of the rage to improve the world, has remained. From the time when we popped the doors, the landlord “fuck you” have said and with a girl in the morning in bed cans of beer, yes, canned beer, which there were times, have been drinking. If something is left of it, and not in all the compromises, Boss suits, meetings, marriages, VW Golf, Fitness Clubs, non-smoking, cooking shows with Kerner, lattes, SZ libraries to collect, emotional intelligences, Sylt, Dosenpfand and so further fell by the wayside. Therefore, Lemmy is such an important man today. For him nothing has remained on the track, he is pure anger and you want to know if there Lemmy in life are better off than us.
Who ever was in the zoo, these houses known for snakes and lizards, usually there are stylized caves, the temperature is high, the air is moist and light bleak. It is always in with respect, because you know you’re going to lose here , the animals were not behind glass. Thus a feeling saturated one, when you enter a room, waiting in the Lemmy. He has his band not present and no speakers from which Motörhead normally play with 141 decibels, 130 decibels is considered Hörschadengrenze . They were once the loudest band in the world, to these pigs Rocker Manowar 160 decibels managed -. in the Heavy scene that is like a 100-meter record
Lemmy is therefore at the leash, he gets up, he is born on December 24, 61 in Stoke-on-Trent in England and when the Lebenswut a sixty years so formed, as it has shaped Lemmy, you are very happy to be not quite so angry , He looks like a weathered rock for a deleted forest fire, his long hair hanging like black burnt grass on his gray-white rocky head, the left he has two warts, “Nah, liver spots are the” and his gaze is lurking from bottom to top. His voice sounds as if he like coals shoveled words from the basement, each set up a gear.
For the eternal anger also heard that Lemmy does not like to talk and it now makes first, nothing to say and whiskey pouring into a glass with cola. First envy. In the afternoon two a fat drink and can not be bothered to words. We think of our meetings after the “Lunch”, a bottle of Volvic Water and talk, we then forget it and do not comply with anyway. “Drink?” croaks Lemmy and pointing his finger to the bottle of bourbon. “Uh, no, there’s maybe a beer …?” Is there and Lemmy looks at the bottle as if it were Alete-Pils.
Municipality of Lebensfundamentalisten
You have a couple of words about Heavy rockers like Motörhead and tell her audience. They are a large international community of Lebensfundamentalisten. Continue thick motorcycles, often have fat bellies, beards, black stuff, and their wives have thick breasts. They love the metal rock, because he so sounds like they want to live – clear, loud, simple. Most of them do not drink, they drink. Most of them have tried or even try all sorts drugs. Deep in their souls they are pirates and pirates like all oversensitive sensitive and conservative; at the same time they pose with Wehrmacht helmets, skulls and other things you find in martial Klimbim.
Heavy- or Hard Rock sold tens of millions of worldwide plates economically every album is a charm, because under Heavy- Fans almost every marketing omitted. Metallica, Manowar, Mötley Crüe, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden and Motörhead all – in the municipality every album is bought, no matter what the reviews say. Motörhead brings now after 31 years, the 23 album “Kiss of Death” out and you ask Lemmy thing to hear it, he says “songs, what else?” Well, what kind of songs? Which idea? Langer whiskey cola drink, “I do not know the audience to say, in which the music dissolves what made. You can not talk about music, you have to hear it.” What triggers it? “Na cutting off to be to get away from the dreary life, sometimes act out just about anything else does not come out,” Lemmy shoveling on the table. Long shot of whiskey-cola, refill, ice, look at the bottle of beer, eyebrows raised briefly, Marlboro in his mouth. Heavy Metal, the word does not like Lemmy, “we play rock ‘n’ roll, all right?”
“Drunk I’ll no longer have long”
Okay, now is a bit oiled. The bottle of whiskey lacks already a quarter, according to Lemmy pours, “I liked the simple well as shower. Drunk I’ll long gone, “he murmurs, and it sounds as if he has already said the phrase a hundred times. In fact already after twenty minutes draws a fatigue on his face, maybe he’s right and you should this nonsense about Music leave. “This morning was with me before Door man in tuxedo drunk from the tax and I wondered if he hears Motörhead “I say. Lemmy grins, almost laughing,” I hope! Is it freedom, always reveals the brain, makes you happy. “Is Rock ‘n’ Roll, a life plan? Can you also behind a bank counter or as CEO Rock ‘n’ Me scooter?” In the heart, “says Lemmy,” you can still make the shitty job in the world, as a director of a bank. Depends on you not to let you bend. But if you get home and crank up the system or go to a Motörhead concert, you’ll be home. “
Good keyword. Yes only the ignorant belief that heavy rock concerts a Art of war meetings and that Motörhead fans sing Lemmy lines about tidy rumzuficken to be stupid booze to contact God in the ass and then do the same rock and violence -. Whenever again as a maniac running ballernd by his school, cries the bourgeoisie, the music is to blame. This is often the opposite is true, heavy rock concerts have something Karthatisches in Lessing’s sense, somewhat self-cleaning, open the floodgates and let the garbage, the frustration and hatred as if from a pressurized container from . Observe the faces of heavy rock fans for a concert – behind their helmets and beards you see dissolved Baby faces, shining her eyes, “that’s luck,” says Lemmy says my Tankwart, Motörhead fan when he Cylinder heads the. his Norton Commando 850 with a delicacy grinds as if they were babies ‘bottoms.
The Melancholy of wild man
“Evil,” says Lemmy, “is the Rock’ n ‘Roll sign language, nothing more. “just to be evil is to insist on its right of lifestyle, to defend it and to show the world from philistines, traffic cops and supervisors teeth. Life itself is then again the melancholy of the wild man – if heavy rockers go to an open air from Motörhead which is like camping in leather, they grill sausages, drink beer, maybe they do not say “my rabbit” to your bride but “bitch “but that’s their form of tenderness. Otherwise they can be stodgy as Opel driver with Wackeldackel if one dares to leave a fingerprint on the polished tank their Harley. The wildness, and here we come close to sensitive Lemmy is, aged just pose.
Lemmy poured by, half a bottle now, and smokes. His fingers have the ocher patina of a hard smoker, the skin is keratinized and cracked, the warlike bass plucking has left its mark. Nope, although a rock god and plate millionaire, he was not rich. An apartment in L.A. he had nothing more. And which was full of Nazi stuff he collect these junk. The yellow finger rockets, “but I am not a Nazi !!” It interested him only this most evil piece of world history at all. “Hitler was a vegetarian, quite contrary to the nature of man, we should not eat meat, we have yet to canines. Hitler has thus only ate vegetables and constantly farting.”
Next Drink, new Marlboro, you want to tell him that he must now not always drinking and smoking because of the interview, but you have the damn feeling the gray rubble in front of a sitting there in his rock-’n’-roll-cage and can not figure out. Two years ago, he is upset before an interview once and they have kept him a week at the Charité, of collapse was talk but Lemmy raises his glass, shaking his head and says, “Nonsense, I was dehydrated.” Now, he says, he can check by doctors and “lungs, liver, all right. I wonder even.”
He knows German history well
In 1975, he was still playing bass for the band Hawkwind, but threw him out when he was caught at the Canadian border with drugs. Motörhead was his idea, the name means Dröhnkopf and “ö” he has written himself into it, “sounded somehow evil and German.” Now Lemmy is in his subject, he knows German history well. “Back there,” he points out the window, “Hitler wanted to build his Germania, imagine this huge thing.” Reichstag, the Landwehr Canal, armory, everything comes from Lemmy’s mouth when he was a history teacher on a school trip, “I mean, it was a period of world history which has controlled my life, your life, all our lives. Today we were sitting not so here, if it were not for the war. “
Lemmy speaks and speaks, you could sneak out, he would speak further. Sometimes, if you still want to get cigarettes at night in Hamburg, you end up in one of those oldies pubs, tobacco brown walls, rock Mucke on low volume and a few bearded in leather at the counter, the hinreden ahead without listening to yourself. There are museums in the 70s where you could exhibit Lemmy immediately.
Schopenhauer once said that youth is a search for happiness and the age of the fear of misfortune was and when I’m back in the ICE and about me and Lemmy think and am quite happy to have lost some parts of young anger and now to not have to suck on cola Whisky, it occurs to me, why there are people like Lemmy goes better. You might have a hearing loss, they do not know the word quietly, they can only listen to themselves. But they have a not know what the rest of us so paralyzes: fear of misfortune. “The Chase is better than the catch” is a Lemmy-Song, the chase is better than the prey.
The text was published in 2006 in the magazine “Park Avenue”.
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