Review Summary: RIP hard. I mean RIP just as Goddamn hard as Dio is RIPPING hard.
Who would win in a wrestling match between Lemmy and God? Trick question, Lemmy is God.
Well sh*t, all hope is gone. The human race has been searching for immortality since we could grunt, and honestly, Lemmy was our best shot. I know people who’s livers exploded before the age of 45. Lemmy’s liver didn’t even work unless he pumped a liter of Jack into it a day. This was a man who literally ate cigarettes. A man so intensely and awesome ugly, he could kill a tiger from across the room just by sneering at it and the tiger would just violently thrash itself to death in a pulverizing fear stroke. This was a man who subsisted on the tears of rattlesnakes. And now he’s gone. Goddamn it.
We are Motorhead, and we play Rock N Roll.
You’re Goddamn right they did. There is nothing more Rock n raping ravaging savaging incapacatating Roll than the power riff groovage of Too Late Too Late. If anyone thinks any song ever written is the best song ever, they are wrong unless that song is Love Me Like a Reptile, which is absolutley probably the best f*cking piece of art ever made. The thundering bass grooves of Ace of Spaces and Overkill are a litmus test. If you don’t literally think they are the best things to ever be made, you’re the kind of dude who’s girlfriend got absolutely blasted by Lemmy backstage at Hammersmith or some other place where whiskey and gasoline take the place of oxygen and carbon. Well, Lemmy and the Road Crew.
God bless the road crew. RIP hard. I mean RIP just as Goddamn hard as Dio is RIPPING hard. Motorhead is rock. The rock will never die.