If your neck hurts, ears ring a bit, arm pops when you rotate it counter-clockwise, and have various amounts of bruises on your legs, then you probably went to the Motorhead concert at Club Nokia last night. It could be the loss of the band’s hearing over the last 40 years that has resulted in the ever-growing volume tour after tour (sometimes after every song), or the fact that nothing enhances heavy metal’s power quite like being louder than everything else. This is Motorhead’s motto, of course, and anyone thinking you will get the slow, worn down husk of a former great rock star should check their bullet belt I the door, as Lemmy and his crew can still kick ass. They brought Maryland’s Clutch to open the last night of their “The Wörld Is Yours” tour in celebration of their 20th studio album and dropped anchor in LA’s Club Nokia.
Clutch’s singer Neil Fallon’s voice is so manly, even his vocal chords have beards. For the completely uninitiated, imagine Serj Tankian born in Virginia and plugged into an Orange amp. His super gruff voice sounds like your father is berating you, but the abuse is scored by a metal soundtrack. Guitarist Tim Sult plays things close to the chest, literally, as his full body guitar never dips lower than his belt buckle and his unwavering stance above his pedal board created an almost robotic visage. The drumming patterns are more in line with The Black Keys than Black Sabbath, as Clutch draws heavily from the Southern blues and rhythm that uses simple beats to create a harmonic layer. But even with a charismatic front man, a booming sound, and some catchy hooks, the wide stage never filled with movement. The drummer has an excuse, but those playing the stringed instruments did not step outside of the pocket the whole night. Clutch covered Cream’s “Politician” and Motorhead’s Peter Murphy came out to play guitar. While the song choice was a smart one, Murphy (nearly 50) moved around on stage infinitely more than Clutch. Yes, Campbell has been playing guitar longer than his openers have been alive, but to be outdone on an energy level by someone that qualifies for the senior discount at Denny’s is a little rough.
The quartet’s most successful moment was definitely their closer, “Electric Worry.” Having benefited from being a part of hugely popular videogame ad campaign (and just being a badass song), the crowd roared awake during the chorus. The song gave the show it’s first “biker rally” moment and made those listening close their eyes and imagine giant corn dogs and leather everywhere. One of the last stanzas explains why Clutch fit on this blue-collar tour and was an appropriate choice to open for such legends:
“If I had money, like Henry Ford,
Lord, I'd have me a woman, yeah on every road.
But Someday, baby, you ain't gonna worry my life anymore“
For a band like Motorhead, with 20 studio albums on store shelves, picking a set list might be a tough decision. Thankfully, Motorhead knows what their fans want and while they sprinkled in a few new tracks, most of the favorites were present. Then again, to the untrained ear, every Motorhead song sounds like it was made in 1980, which is a credit to their consistency over the years. After opening with “We Are Motorhead,” L.A. was treated to classics like “Metropolis,” “Chase is Better Than The Catch,” “Over the Top,” and of course “Ace of Spades.” Cherie Currie (of Runaways fame) and Lemmy’s son, Paul, came out for “Killed By Death,” one of the most celebrated Motorhead anthems and added another vocal and guitar layer to the already iconic song. The encore was “Overkill,” as it always is, and it always will be. Lemmy stood tall as ever while howling at his inverted microphone and the excellent mix made his Rickenbacker rumble and Marshall melt.
It wouldn’t be a Motorhead show if we didn’t get a solo from guitarist Phil Campbell and drummer Mikkey Dee. About 30 minutes in, the axesmith laid down a rippling musical soliloquy that got those still in their seats to their feet. Dee handled solo duty 30 minutes later, and added the most complicated technical aspect to Motorhead’s show: two smoke machines. It seems primitive by today’s standards, but the “If it doesn’t shoot lasers at me, then it stinks” standard should not apply to a metal show of this nature. He went through a million drum sticks while giving his bandmates long enough to crack open a beer and kept the crowd in the show an hour into it.
Motorhead shows are some of the most cross-generational you can attend. Grandpas and grandsons were walking side-by-side like it was opening day at Dodger Stadium, except they were wearing way more black and grandpa wasn’t as drunk. The basic rock’n’roll sermon of sex, drugs, and lawlessness have never sounded better than when Lemmy professes it. Without a doubt, the best way to spend 11:00 to 12:30 last night was watching the best trio in rock’n’roll show everyone how it is done. Another album, another tour, another round of beer, and Motorhead still is the best band in the world.
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