Live Review: Motörhead

Motörhead (UK)

10/21/2003

AB, Brussels (BE)

Set List (random order, but probably complete (thanks Roel, for helping me out there)):

We Are Motörhead / Shoot You in the Back / God Save the Queen / R.A.M.O.N.E.S. / Going to Brazil / Love Me Like a Reptile / Shut You Down / Sacrifice / Metropolis / Stay Clean / Brave New World / Over the Top / Dr. Rock / You Better Run / Damage Case / Iron Fist / No Class / Ace of Spades / Overkill

The stereocilia—hair-like strands within the cochlea-- responsible for high frequency conduction are the first to succumb to high decibel (dB) damage due to their position in the cochlea, particularly those responsible for processing frequencies between 3,000 and 6,000 hertz. In this range, a person’s ability to differentiate similar speech sounds becomes increasingly inconsistent and ineffectual. Eventually, the damage to high frequency perception begins to level off, but such is not the case for low frequency perception. Prolonged exposure to high volume environments can lead to a complete loss of the ability to hear low frequencies.

Like the 1999 live release Everything Louder Than Everyone Else suggests, Motörhead isn’t exactly about delicate arrangements, sugar-coated melodies, charming backing vocals and impeccable playing. It’s about getting the meters in the red with filthy slabs of one-dimensional rock ‘n’ roll as ugly as the warts on Lemmy’s face. The crowd (lots of them with non-ironic mullets – they STILL exist!) was already warmed up by the entire Back in Black and when the trio finally came onstage at 9 p.m. sharp and kicked off with the punkish self-abuse of “We Are Motörhead,” no more argument was needed to convince me they still live up to their reputation. It’s the same old recipe over and over again:

- 2/5 frill-less hard rock
- 1/5 rudimentary punk rock
- 1/5 nicotine and booze
- 1/5 motor oil

The majority of the songs were pretty predictable (what did you expect?): lots of classic bastards, ranging from the insanely nasty “Stay Clean,” to the tribute “R.A.M.O.N.E.S.” and the later “Sacrifice” (with obligatory and completely unnecessary drum solo) and the final kick in the groin/encore of “Ace of Spades”/”Overkill”. Nothing innovating, nothing risky (they only played one song from their latest album, while they played five from their 1979-album Overkill) and certainly not too friendly: when some punk threw a beer cup in the direction of Lemmy during “God Save the Queen,” the moustachioed one replied with “C*NT!” and “If you dare doing this again, we’re out of here” (pretty silly, if you ask me). Anyway, the set continued for a while but when suddenly a second and third cup landed on stage, the band simply stopped and walked offstage … to return two minutes later with a request (“If you see the bastard who threw the cup, then smash his f*ck*n’ teeth in”) and a few more songs. Campbell’s guitar alternately roared like a buzzsaw and screeched like a slaughtered pig, Lemmy made his bass sound like another six-stringed rocket launcher, while resident blondie Mikkey Dee kept torturing the drum skins mercilessly. Much like AC/DC, the band still lives on its early accomplishments, but like that other band, they at least understand they were good at it and they’d rather deliver the same bunch of three-chord rockers than make themselves look like directionless morons. Of course, this implies that their concerts can feel like routines (especially when you hear from hardcore fans they’ve witnessed exactly the same stage banter and gimmicks a few months before) and this limits the experience somewhat (no cathartic/transcending moments here). However – and this should be stressed over and over again – if they’re healthy enough to stand up for 80 minutes, they simply deliver the goods, again and again. It’s exactly during these moments, when hundreds of people freak out during these thrilling adrenaline-explosions, that you realize they deserve to be considered one of the all time greats of rock ‘n’ roll.