White Line Fever

Life and times of Lemmy

Last week I finally got round to reading Lemmy’s autobiography, White Line Fever. I guess, I’m not a huge Motörhead fan though I like them well enough. I have the live album, No Sleep until Hammersmith and a couple of studio ones, Ace of Spades etc. Over the years, I’ve been more of a Hawkwind fan, the band he was in until he was sacked while on tour following a drugs bust.

But I’ve always heard that his autobiography set a high bar for rock and roll, tell-it-how-it-is stories. So I bought a cheap second hand copy from Amazon and spend a couple of days reading it. Unsurprisingly, it is a no nonsense tale of sex, drugs and rock n’ roll that doesn’t outstay its welcome. If anything I would have liked him to stay longer with certain moments and events. But that’s speed for you — his drug of choice — always other places to go, things to do. Considering he consumed vast quantities of Jack Daniels, fags and amphetamine sulphate all through his long career, it is surprising that he lived until the grand old age of seventy. I think it amazed him, also.

The stories of life on the road, the endless parade of fellow musicians and groupies passing through, and all the recording contracts and albums, all culminating like the notches on the barrel of a gun, are ones that have been told many times over. The ubiquitous narrative of a rock…