PrimeWire

I’ve been to more Motorhead shows than I can remember and was lucky enough to get to meet Lemmy twice. The 1st time was at a Dallas show in 1986. They were playing with Wendy O Williams, Cro-Mags, and Scratch Acid. A friend who worked at Z Rock scored me some tickets and backstage passes. I got there early and pretty quickly figured out that the evening wasn’t going to be what I had hoped for. Lemmy and Wendy were bickering over who got to use the only dressing room at the venue and neither was engaging much with anyone. I did get to say hi though and enjoyed the show. My best memories of that night were hearing Lemmy snap at Wendy “You don’t need a dressing room. You don’t wear any damn clothes.” and partying with the guys from Scratch Acid after the show. Two of their members would go on to form The Jesus Lizard.

The 2nd encounter was a very different experience and a memory that I treasure. Motorhead was in town for SXSW in 2010. They played two shows and Lemmy was plugging the world premiere of this documentary at the film portion of the festival. I knew they were coming and had secured a temp job working at the convention center where the press junket and screening would take place. I staked out the service hallway behind the room where an interview with a local paper had taken place and was delighted when he exited alone. Much to my own chagrin, I blurted out “Lemmy!’ much louder than I had intended and he turned quickly in my direction to assess the situation. His slightly widened eyes relaxed as he looked me over and he smiled at me.

I couldn’t believe my luck. The hallway was deserted and I had him all to myself. There was Lemmy and my first impression was how Texan he looked from top to bottom. The well worn, personally molded cowboy hat. Unadorned, black western shirt with snap buttoms. Dessert plate sized belt buckle holding up black jeans and the obligatory going out on the town cowboy boots. Expensive, custom-made, Texas-themed boots with a large single star featured prominently front and center on each one.

He stretched out his hand and we shook. I uttered some of the usual fan banalities (big fan, blah blah blah) and recounted the first time I had met him. He laughed at the Wendy memory and then spent almost half an hour retelling little stories about her. He was charming, gracious, and funny af. As he was leaving I was inspired to bum a Marlboro from the pack protuding from his shirt pocket (I don’t do the autograph thing). I still have that cigarette stored in a little glass tube somewhere in all my crap.