Lemmy: the Classic Rock interview

Lemmy
(Image credit: Future)

It was September 23rd, just days after the vote on Scottish independence and I was surrounded by people wearing “Motörhead, England” t-shirts. 

Fair enough, you might think but In fact, only one member of Motörhead comes from England – and he was raised in Wales and lives in LA. The other two are a Welshman from Pontypridd and a Swede of Greek descent (Mikkey Dee’s real name is Micael Kiriakos Delaoglou). Hence the first question… 

Alt

Here we are in the sea off Mexico and everywhere on the boat it says: Motorhead England.

Well, I’m from England, Phil from Wales, Mikkey’s from Sweden. But in the beginning we were all English, the original band, so it just comes from that.

Do you believe in Britain?

No. Well, I dunno, it depends what you mean. As a cultural thing or a survival thing? In what context?

In the context of this independence thing: People are saying “Britain is broken. Britain has had its day”.

Well, it might have but have you come up with an alternative?

Well, some Scottish people would say that they’d like Scotland to run itself-

But they didn’t. They said no. I mean if you really think it through, it makes no sense. You’re going to have to import things with import tax on them - from England! It’s fuckin’- prices are gonna go up, wages are gonna go down. You’re gonna have French people working all over [laughs] - is that really what you want?

How would you sum up the last year in Motorhead?

Pretty good actually apart from the illness I had but that’s not Motorhead, that’s me. Motorhead’s been going from strength to strength, y’know. Very fortunate.

What are the key things you’re remember about the last 12 months when you look back in a few years’ time?

I was in hospital for most of them. [chuckles] One of the best things was when I came back and found out I could still do it. Because I had serious doubts, y’know. After that Wacken festival the year before when I had to stop the gig because I was in pain so much. And then to come for the festivals earlier this year and I found out I could still do it and that was great. We did Wacken - paid back. So that was a good thing. We did the whole set, so it was great. I couldn’t have come offstage – even if it was the worst agony I’d ever had – because I had to repay it.

Aftershock’s great. It actually deserves the reception it got. It’s kind of fashionable to like Motorhead again - every 8 years or so it comes around. You can see the spikes.

You’re the outsider it’s OK for everyone to like. Even the establishment respect you.

They do NOW. After the last two years, yeah. I get all sorts of people coming up to me saying, ‘I love your band’ and I know half of them have never listened to them. I think they like the image, you know. Bad boy image.

So what if Prince Harry gets drunk one night and puts you forward for an OBE – would you accept it?

Yeah, why not? I mean, I’ve never asked for anything off the British government, never had social security or anything like that, so fuck em – give me a medal!

But you came out of that whole Ladbroke grove, anarchistic thing…

That was very two-faced. There was all these people going [holds up peace sign] peace and love and all that and then fucking [peace sign becomes stabbing motion] stabbing you in the back. It was very elitist. Britain: class is everything. There was the people you’d listen to and then there was the dogs, and we were the dogs.

But Hawkwind was very successful within that milieu. We were just about to break America and then they fired me, which was a big mistake, because I was the driver in that band. And they poor Rudolph to play bass and he was a great lead guitarist with the [Pink] Fairies because he was really merciless. But on bass he was… a jazz bassist. Wrong guy.

Mick Farren died last year.

Somebody told me his last words were ‘Tell Lemmy I’m sorry’ but I don’t believe them.

What did he have to apologise for?

We had a terrible estrangement, me and Mick. I always respected him, but he wrote an article saying that I was a nazi, more or less, and I had all this nazi stuff in my house and it was so awful. Steve Sparks – who was one of the contemporaries of Mick – wrote a letter to him saying ‘You fucking arsehole! I remember you putting on an SS uniform to get onstage at the Roundhouse – what the fuck are you talking about?’ He really took him to bits, y’know. ‘Is it because Lemmy still walks the walk and talks the talk and all you do is talk?’ [Laughs] It was fucking amazing.

And Legs McNeil. That writer out of New York. He wrote an article against me. But there you go. He’s dead [Farren] and I’m not. I once stole his old lady, you know, so that’s where it all comes from. And he accused me in the article of trying to pull his next old lady which was really out of line because she was really ugly.

I could have sworn he wrote nice things about you in the last few years.

Who Mick? Yeah, he gave us a good review for a coupla albums. I would’ve made peace with him but I never saw him, you know. He was living in Brighton.

Charles Shaar Murray talks highly of you too.

Charles Shaar Murray is a very good writer. I did one of his first interviews, I believe. He was this little fat kid. He got a lot better. He had a good band too.

I haven’t seen any of them people in years. I mean YEARS.

[We talk about the CR cover story last year…]

It said ‘The return of Motorhead’ - and I was in hospital!

In that piece MIkkey said if he had one question to ask you it’d be “When will you be sick and tired of feeling sick and tired?” Was that awkward – do you talk openly about that sort of thing in Motorhead?

“We talk. Depends on my health. I’ll be there til I drop dead. I mean, what am going to do otherwise? I’m qualified to be a single parent, that’s about it. I didn’t make my GCSEs.

What else could you do?

Well, I worked in a factory: Capstan lathe operator and several other machines. It’s a terrible life. That’s why I’m so lucky. Most people have to do a job they despise all their lives. You’re lucky too. You could have been in a factory in Glasgow, right?

What does the phrase ‘Born to lose, live to win’ mean to you?

Everybody’s born to lose – you’re gonna die, aren’t ya? So why not live to win?

I’ve always thought of in terms of where I grew up and the kids I grew up with – we were born to lose. No one expected us to grow up and leave town, let alone be on a cruise ship in Mexico. You weren’t expected to do anything other than what your dad did.

Exactly. You’re classed as that. People from council estates work in factories, that’s it. It’s bullshit, you know – as you proved. And as I proved. I’m from Anglesey! In Wales! Fuck off! You had to cross a bridge to go to the fucking place! If you’d told me when I was 16 that I’d be in a cruise ship off Mexico in the owner’s cabin, I would’ve fucking laughed at you, y’know. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

But you earned it. You’ve got to go and find your luck.

But it was luck that I got the chance to earn it. It’s all random. Being in the right place at the right time, that’s three quarters of it. If Brian Epstein hadn’t have a kid come in his shop asking for a record by The Beatles, he would never have heard of them. He thought they were German, because the kid thought they were German, and then he found they were playing at the Cavern just down the street and he fell in love with John Lennon. We would never have heard of them. Maybe. There’s all kinds of little details.

You were too young to do the Hamburg circuit?

Yeah, but I was a close second. I saw them at the Cavern, The Beatles. Saw a lot of bands. We used to go up there - it was only 60 miles away [according to Google Maps, Anglesey is 90s miles from Liverpool]. So we went quite often, hitchhiked and then we’d sleep in half-built building sites, anywhere. Liverpool was really jumping in those days. Six bands in an evening and they were all good – you don’t get that no more.

The Motorhead UK tour is much shorter this year. Some people plan their diaries around Motorhead’s November tour – and this year there’s only three dates.

Some people plan their whole vacations with us, to come on an American tour or something. I mean, Klaus from Germany showed up in Brazil! A lot of them kids learned about the world through us – they might never have gone outside their own country otherwise. We’re a cultural phenomenon!

Mikkey told me that this is the most international audience they’ve ever had on one of these cruises (the Captain of the boat later confirms this).

Yeah? That’s great, I didn’t know that. I know a few of them from their home countries: a Japanese girl who’s got a baby now. But not many Germans. I don’t know why. None of the superfans, as we call them. The inner clique. One from Holland, two from Germany, one from England.

There’s a banner on the deck by the stage: “Motorhead, Liverpool. Motorscouse: Born to Cruise, Live to Win”

Very good. Liverpool’s always had a good sense of humour.

Does it feel weird to be doing just three gigs in the UK? Or is it just a necessary change of plan?

We have to because I’ve got to slow down a bit. I mean, I remember, on the ’79 tour with Saxon we did 53 gigs in 56 days. You know, that’s out of the question, I can’t do that no more. You get tired easier. I mean, old age sucks man. Don’t ever get to it, I don’t recommend it.

You spend your life travelling, do you actually like travelling?

Yeah I do, I like seeing places, yeah, we don’t get to see a lot of a place, but it’s nice to see how people are you know. When people are at home, that’s how they are. When they come to Britain on holiday or the USA on holiday, that’s not who they are, that’s them as tourists, you know, that’s a different thing. For me, I like to see people where they come from, and that’s really meeting them. If I’ve got a fan in Italy – which is really weird, do you know what I mean, because Italy doesn’t have a big history of rock and roll – excellent to see them. 

There are certain countries that you think, ‘Wow, this is a surprise,’ that we’re touring here, you know. Like the first time in Russia, first time in Poland-, well, not so much Poland, Poland are rock'n'roll. We went to Estonia, did a couple of shows there once. Fucking hell, the girls there, man. The language is partly Finnish and partly Estonia, it’s like this sort of southern colony of Finland and the fucking chicks man, they’re all legs. Me and Mikkey used to often go to discos, you know, cos we were really different and a lot of chicks went for it, because we were different. We were like, bad ass, you know, like not exactly disco guys. We weren’t like that at all, so we pulled a lot of birds and that, and we didn’t even have to dance. (Laughter)

Somebody told me that Phil Lynott used to stand at the bar at discos and look really sad. Guys would come up to check he was alright and he’d be like, ‘Fuck off, fuck off.’ It was just a ruse so that girls would come up and say, ‘Oh Phil, What’s wrong?’

‘Are you alright?’ (Laughter). Yeah, Phil was a real snake for chicks. I’ve seen Phil in several situations that I wouldn’t say in a magazine. He was a great guy Phil, I miss him. I miss a lot of people. The only one I really didn’t expect to was Sid Vicious, funnily enough.

[Mishearing] You didn’t respect him?

No, I didn’t expect him to go, that quick. I couldn’t believe the circumstances, because he didn’t have it in him to stab his chick with a hunting knife. Especially her because he was dependant on her, kind of. He never had a chance, you know. I tried to teach him to play bass one time, it was fucking hopeless. We did two days and I said, ‘Sid, you can’t play bass,’ so he said, ‘I know,’ and he went off all sad, you know. Then the next thing I know, I was in The Speak[easy], and he comes up to me and says, ‘Hey Lemmy, guess what?’ I said, ‘What?’ He said, ‘I’m in The Pistols.’ I said, ‘What roadie, like?’ He said, ‘No, playing bass,’ I said, ‘You can’t play fucking bass,’ he said, ‘Yeah, yeah, but I’m in The Pistols.’ (Laughter).

He looked good holding a bass.

He looked good, didn’t do fuck all with it. That was why they hired him and because he was a mate of John’s. Steve had a real hard time with him. He said, ‘I had to do everything, everything. I had to fucking teach him to play fucking one note right.’ He said, ‘I had to play the bass on the fucking album.’

That was a good band, what were they called? With Ronnie Biggs-, that was the start of it, and then they came back, and they became The Professionals. That was a good band The Professionals, I liked them. I went to see them a few times, they were fucking good. Ray McVeigh on guitar – I saw him the other day actually, he lives in LA now.

Lemmy with Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen

(Image credit: Getty Images)

He’s been at The Classic Rock Awards a couple of times.

Fucking good guy. I like Ray.

Paul Cook seems cool as well, I’ve only met him a couple of times.

Yeah, Cookie’s great. They did The Sex Pistols show at The Roxy in LA and I went down there to see them. After – because I live with a black woman and so does Paul, you know – I come out and the two black birds were going on, you know. Paul says to me, ‘Were we alright?’ They’d just played this amazing gig, the best I ever saw them and I said, [underwhelmed voice] ’Yeah, you were alright.’ (Laughter) “Oh yeah?” Like a little kid, you know. Nice thing, you know.

Do you know his daughter, Holly Cook, she’s a rising reggae star?

I wouldn’t see much of her, I don’t like reggae.

Really?

I don’t like rap either.

You don’t like Bob Marley or Lee “Scratch” Perry or any of that?

Bob Marley did about three good songs.

(Laughter) I like a bit of reggae.

No, I don’t like reggae. It’s a musical thing with me, ‘n-dah, n-dah,’ you know. It was boring. Then rap is incredibly poor, as music goes.

Some of it’s alright.

As a sensation it’s okay.

If you’re somewhere with a great PA and it’s really fucking loud, the rhythm can be good, but-

The rhythm is good but it’s been the same rhythm for fucking twenty years.

So there’s no plans for a Motorhead rap remix?

Oh no, fuck that.

We went off topic. I was asking you about travelling. You like travelling, but I hear you can’t swim?

I can’t swim, no.

You come from an island.

I sink really good. I don’t come from an island, I come from Stoke.

Well, you were brought up in Anglesey-,

Anglesey, yeah, it’s near enough isn’t it, and Dún Laoghaire.

Why did you never learn to swim?

Well, where I lived right, it was either you were into the donkeys and the ponies on the beach, or you went swimming. The sea was fucking cold, the Irish Sea, are you kidding? Everybody was blue coming out of there, I thought, ‘Fuck that’. So, I became a horse rider and I had two horses. I was horse mad for ages. I bought two horses but we sold them when we had to give up the farm. We sold them to a girl’s school in Abergele. So they were spoilt rotten until the day they dropped dead, you know. Girls sneaking out at night, giving them an apple, you know. Chicks love horses.

You never had horses as a grown up?

No, well you know, I was what, seventeen, eighteen.

At that point, right.

Yeah.

I hear you don’t have a drivers licence either?

No. In LA, are you kidding?

…But you used to have a car.

I had several cars. [Laughter] The first one was an Austin 10, 1932, I got it for a fiver. I think I lived in Gwrych Castle in North Wales. Then I had an Austin van and I had a Chevrolet, a big old Chevy, 1952 Chevy coupe, it said, ‘Powerglide,’ on the back, fucking great.

So with no drivers licence they just sat on a drive somewhere?

No, I drove them, you know. I was good with a tractor too when we were on the farm. I can back a fucking load of hay back through a thing, with this much clearance, I’m good on a tractor.

So, why did you not get a licence?

I never was really interested in driving, I was never really car crazy, you know. I liked American cars and we didn’t have any of them then. I got the Chevy, but it was like 1952, it was knackered, you know. It was a good car. I got that for 36 pounds. 1966. Good looking car, it had power steering – 1952, power steering! – power brakes, fucking built-in valve radio. They were so far ahead of us in cars, you know. I mean, we had the Ford Popular, fucking terrible.

Did you ever have motorbikes?

I had a Matchless, 350, ex-army bike. Still had the panniers on the back for carrying a message thing, but I never went on the road on it, I was always underneath it covered in oil, you know, just fucking hopeless. Knackered, 1941 bike, you know. My brother had a good road bike, a dirt bike. I used to ride that a bit, but we never went off the farm, that was why we were on the farm, we had a hundred acres to play about in.

I would’ve thought that in LA you could have ruled a biker gang, surely…

I don’t know, I can’t fight. The last fight I had was in school. I was the only English kid in 700 Welsh. So I had to prove it every day, you know. Break time, lunch time, on the way home. That’s when I learnt that fighting’s useless, it doesn’t change anything. If you’re going to fight, you haven’t changed his opinion of anything – you just made him think you’re a cunt. 

There’s no point in being the hardest man on the block, you know. It doesn’t exist because somewhere there is always somebody who is going to come and tie your legs behind your head. It’s pointless, it’s a waste of energy. Hatred is a waste of your time, because it takes up all your time hating something and it’s not worth it, you know. Get over it.

Is there anything hate? Anyone you hate?

No.

You gave politicians a hard time last night on the stage.

Well, you know, I come as near to hating them as I come near to hating anybody. Politicians: to really want to be a politician, right there, you know, march out, you know.

Billy Connolly says if you want to be a politician then you’re exactly the kind of person who should be banned for being one.

I like having a Monarchy me.

You like what?

I like the Monarchy better.

Really?

At least they’re trained to rule.

(Laughter) Fuck.

They are though, aren’t they?

Are they anymore?

Well, President, a peanut farmer, a failed national guardsman-, you know, please, give me a break.

I guess they know how to move money? That’s what they learn, they learn how to get money behind them and satisfy-

Well, they know how to move money for them, yeah, they don’t know how to move money for me. Fuck ‘em. I like a good parade, you know.

A good parade? (Laughter).

A Monarchy’s better for that.

There’s some big Presidential parades…

Sitting in the back of a fucking open top car, right, waving. Didn’t do John Kennedy much good did it?

The last time you were in the UK at Hyde Park, I never saw you…

Typical, watching a rap concert.

…But I heard that people were worried about you, about your health…

Yeah, well, there was good reason at the time, but I came through it.

Some bands, without naming names, get in keyboard players or second guitarists that can sing a bit like the frontman, to back him. Did you never consider that?

No. Nobody played bass like me and nobody sings like me. Nobody wants to, you know.

People were also saying that there were more solos to give you a break, a drum solo and-

No. The reason that the solos came so close to each other was that we only had 40 fucking minutes to play. So, I mean, I think we cut out the guitar solo, didn’t we? I’m sure we just had a drum solo and we gave the drum solo to Mikkey because he’s good enough to-

Well, he always had a drum solo didn’t he?

Yeah, well, you know, he’s always good enough to do it. We never gave Phil Taylor a drum solo or Pete Gill, but with Mikkey you just have to own up, he’s that good.

It’s not like you were having oxygen behind the amps

No.

I saw you yesterday behind the amps.

Yeah, no, no. I’m not Bon Scott. I remember going to see him with a bird I really fancied and I took her to see him and we were backstage, and he’d come off for his oxygen all the time, you know.

Really, fucking hell. I didn’t know they did it back then. 

Yeah, he was really fucked, you know. It caught up with him quicker, he was more of a drinker than me I think. I don’t actually drink a lot. It’s like, I don’t get drunk anymore, I’m immune, I just like the taste, you know.

You won’t remember this, the last time that I interviewed you was ten years ago and you poured me Jack Daniels, it was probably about that much Jack and that much coke.

Well, you don’t want it diluted too much, do ya?

But you know, I think you can handle your drink…

I can’t drink Jack no more.

No?

I don’t like the taste of it anymore. I don’t know, I came out with a set of different tastes in me. I drink vodka now and again. I drink it more socially. I don’t drink at home hardly, just wine mostly. I don’t smoke at home, but I’ll smoke a few cigarettes out here because it’s-, you meet people who you know who still smoke, fuck it, you know.

Doesn’t that affect your singing or anything?

My singing depends on it actually, man (laughter).

So, I’d say the last three or four Motörhead albums have been really strong.

The last five.

From Inferno – is that five?

Yeah, Inferno started it, with Cameron Webb, you know. He’s a genius.

Is that the reason they've been so consistent?

He understands how we want to be and all producers don’t do that, they do them for themselves. Cameron doesn’t do that, he makes us sound like we want to sound, which is a great thing, it’s really unusual. Most producers are really egomaniacs, their version of you, you know. He doesn’t do that, he does our version of us and he turns it up.

So, have you got another session locked in with him? Or is there plans for the next album?

Oh yeah, he’s in. I don’t see any reason to fix something if it ain’t broke.

Do you write now? Are you writing all the time or do you-

No, no. We write- we have a month rehearsal and then go in. Sometimes we write things in the studio sometimes. Like, Lost Woman Blues we wrote in the studio.

It’s brilliant. Going to Mexico I love, I was surprised you didn’t play it last night [you know: on a boat, going to Mexico…]

Wrote that in the studio too. I know, we’ve got to learn a couple more off that album. For the full tour we’ll have a couple more of them. It is a good record, I was surprised how good it came out because I was sick as a dog when I was doing it. You know, I had no strength at all. I was shuffling to the mic out of the control room and I had to sit down and sing a couple of them. It’s incredible that it came out that good. Lucky, lucky, lucky, again. You see, I don’t have one of them voices, you have to keep away from cigarettes and all that, you know, I’ve a voice that yearns for cigarettes (laughter).

Lemmy onstage

(Image credit: Future)

The first time you came to Classic Rock Awards – it was the first ever Classic Rock Awards – Jimmy Page was there… 

Yeah, I like Jimmy.

And I asked you, ‘How did the two of you first meet?’ and you wouldn’t tell me.

It was at The Speakeasy I believe. It was when, you know when they were doing that thing where they all wore overcoats and beards and all that. The Bath Festival time. Right, you don’t remember it, you’re too young.

I’ve seen the pictures, where he’s got the tank top and all that, before they went-

They all wore overcoats and beards at a certain point and that’s when he was wearing the overcoat and then he was at The Speakeasy. You know The Speakeasy right?

I know what it is, I never went.

Yeah. That was the best club you’ll ever see in your life, man.

Yeah?

Aah, yeah. Keith Moon came in there stark naked one night. His chauffeur drove him down there, spread eagle on the front hood of the car, stark naked. He ran in the club and Panos, the Manager was standing there, Greek guy-, ‘Hi Panos,’ he rushed in the club, you know. John Lennon and Yoko were eating in the restaurant and he rushed in there and he put his dick right in John Lennon’s dinner and he said, ‘Oh hello John, how you doing?’ and Yoko went “Frmmm” [rushing noise] out the fucking door. John said, ‘Fucking hell Keith,’ you know, and he said, ‘It was the only way I could think of to get you on your own, old boy.’ (Laughter). Fucking great days they were. Yeah, you’d see everybody down there, everybody went there. I used to sell speed down there.

You did?

Yeah. Well, I was broke, before even Motörhead got going.

Between Hawkwind and Motörhead?

Yeah, it was only about six months. I got fired in ’75 and I started Motörhead in ’75. I bounced back. Then the first tour we did was supporting fucking Hawkwind. We stole the show off them, as funny as shit and they fucking hated it.

How did the audience deal with that? Two very different bands.

Yeah, they went crazy for us and like, Hawkwind got a really lukewarm reception at a lot of the shows, because we’re hard to follow, you know. You don’t want to follow us, it’s not advisable. Good or bad, if you hate us or like us. I mean, we take a lot of your energy out. We fucking beat you around the head with it, you know. We couldn’t work for a long time because nobody would follow us, Black Sabbath had the guts to do it, Alice Cooper had the guts to do it, but we were really in limbo for a long time. Nobody would go on after us.

Do you think being single mostly, on and off, or not being married has given you an edge?

Yeah. Definitely, because if there are any girl fans in the crowd then I’m available, you know, but we don’t get many girls in our crowd. You might have noticed, we’d got a few there last night actually.

I was amazed. I thought there’d be no women on this cruise, but actually there were a lot of women in there.

Yeah right, but they’re with guys.

Oh yeah, they’re heavily guarded.

Yeah, really, yeah. You never see the chick without the guy.

When you’re married with kids, it takes your edge off. You’ve got commitments. You have to go home on time. You get comfortable…

My crew, and the band is my family, you know. I live with a great girl, she’s my family too. I mean, the crew and the band are where I am, even when I’m off the road. I believe that you should treat the crew, how you would like them to treat you. A lot of bands treat the crew like dirt and I don’t understand it. I never got it, I never will. You depend on them to make you sound good and look good, right? How can you treat them like shit? I mean, they’re your equals because they do half of your job. They could make you sound awful, right, they could make you sound like shit and they don’t, they do their best for you. So, how the fuck can you treat them like shit? It’s not just salaries, some of our guys have been with us twenty years. Tim’s been with me nearly 30, you know. A couple of breaks here and there but he keeps getting married, you know, but he always comes back after he gets divorced (laughter).

To his real family.

He knows where he lives.

So, when you're not on the road I guess your roadcrew don’t earn? 

Yeah, well, they work for other people during that time. I mean, they’re professional people, they’re not just tied to us because we tolerate them. They’re fucking- they’re worth their weight, you know.

When you’re off the road do you keep in touch with them, like via email? I can’t imagine you’re doing emails.

Oh, I do emails alright, yeah. I keep in touch with Tim and Eddie, our Tour Manager. Anybody else who gets in touch, I get in touch back obviously. Stephen’s gone now, our light guy, he resigned on the last tour, because he had a better offer, but I told him I’d keep his job open for a year, just in case he wants to come back, cos I can’t see him doing it. 

This way of life ruins you for everything else. It’s like, you’re on the road and you’re free, they can’t catch you. You’re in one place and then you’re in another place, several hundred miles away, so you’re in and gone before they catch you, it’s great. It’s, like, a community in the bus and on the road. You’ll never find anything like that again. It’s like being in the marines – it’s that camaraderie. You don’t work, I don’t work. You’re not well, I’m not well. It’s like that. So I really value that.

[We get back on to talking about politicians - about the Scottish Independence referendum a few days before. The problem is, I say, that David Cameron and all those idiots, they represent England to a lot of Scottish people.]

Oh spare me, spare me, you know. There’s been a trail of shit ever since like, even Macmillan was shit, before him. Ramsay MacDonald was probably the last good Prime Minister, Gladstone, somebody like that, because it’s just been a trail of crap, you know. Tony Blair: anybody who smiles that much has got to have something wrong with them. Then Gordon Brown – he was fucking rubbish.

Did you ever vote?

No, never voted for anybody.

Never voted for anyone, ever?

No, I’ve never voted for, the lesser of two evils. I don’t think that’s a good recommendation, so I never bothered, fuck ‘em. But then I deserve what I get.

That’s what they say.

Yeah. I just can’t bring myself to vote for the lesser of two evils. There’s nobody I believed in, ever, in British politics.

What about somebody like, I don’t know, Tony Benn or somebody like that.

No. He was all talk, all mouth and no trousers like his father.

Is he dead now? Yeah, he just died didn’t he, last year? 

Good thing too, why not? Harold Wilson, another one, you know. Recommending The Beatles for the OBE, you know. I actually watched Sir Harold Wilson at Stockport in Manchester and he was a cunt you know. He got up there, and I knew he was a cunt and he was skinny then. He was more camera friendly. Have you ever heard the outtake of him on the BBC?

I don’t think so.

They did an interview with him and they asked him about- who was the Conservative opposite then?

Heath maybe?

Yes. Questions about Heath, and Harold Wilson went, ‘Alright, I’m stopping this. You cannot record this, you can’t publish this, this is-, you’ve asked me questions about Mr Heath, you’ve asked me questions about me…..outrageous. I’m the Prime Minister,’ and-,

He just melts down?

‘And if this comes on there’ll be a hell of a row,’ and of course it came out immediately, you know (laughter). Some fucking tape operator of the BBC, ‘Oh yeah,’ you know. It was funny as fuck.

I was just reading the other day that Heath was gay, I never realised that. 

You never realised that?

Well, he was before my time-,

Oh yeah, you know – scout master.

He kept it all totally in the closet apparently.

Well, we knew, people who were there at the time knew, but I mean, it doesn’t matter to me anyway, it has no bearing on the fact that he should have either run the country or he couldn’t, I mean, that doesn’t matter, you know. It doesn’t have any bearing on it. Good luck with all of it, I don’t mind. As long as you’re not crawling up my leg, you’re welcome, right?

(Laughter) Yeah.

Somebody published a thing on the internet that I was bisexual once.

Really?

Yeah, so I wrote an answer to him, I said, ‘How are you going to go down to the shop and buy some new software with a screwdriver through both your knees?’ He published an apology the next day.

Was this like a proper journalist or just a-

No, it was just some lemon.

(Laughter) Lemmy, thanks very much-

A proper journalist wouldn’t have done that.

Well, I mean you would hope not, but with the internet, you know, you never know. 

Maybe The Daily Star, you know.

Scott Rowley
Content Director, Music

Scott is the Content Director of Music at Future plc, responsible for the editorial strategy of online and print brands like Louder, Classic Rock, Metal Hammer, Prog, Guitarist, Guitar World, Guitar Player, Total Guitar etc. He was Editor in Chief of Classic Rock magazine for 10 years and Editor of Total Guitar for 4 years and has contributed to The Big Issue, Esquire and more. Scott wrote chapters for two of legendary sleeve designer Storm Thorgerson's books (For The Love Of Vinyl, 2009, and Gathering Storm, 2015). He regularly appears on Classic Rock’s podcast, The 20 Million Club, and was the writer/researcher on 2017’s Mick Ronson documentary Beside Bowie