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DISCLAIMER: The following is an excerpt (in draft form) from the upcoming book, tentatively titled "1,596 Ticket Stubs", from Fueler & Assistant EFI Editor - Michelle. No portion of these excerpts can be reproduced in any format without the written permission from Michelle. ©
May 9, 1981, with Motorhead
Set List
 Motorhead Tour Program "Umm, motor who?" "You remember, 'Shell. Remember that song you like, 'Overkill.'" cousin Bunchie said, conjuring up her best raspy voice to sing a few bars in her best Lemmy Kilmister impression:
Know your body's made to move, feel it in your guts "Motorhead is on the Ozzy tour. C'mon, let's go. I'll tell mom that I want to check out the University of Dayton, and you tell Uncle Delbert that mom won't let me go by myself. We can spend the night at Aunt Reesa and Uncle Ronnie's house." Being on the road with my older cousin was so cool. Taking a road trip on a school night was major cool. But, since she was 18 and I was 14, and we were headed all the way to Dayton, Ohio, from Virginia to see OZZY and Motorhead - being with Bunchie was hella cool. Although it is hard to admit, at the time, my cousin was the more experienced metal-head. I knew very little of Motorhead at 14. I had only seen pictures of Lemmy and the band in magazines and album covers. I'd never seen them on TV. Embarrassingly, I had no clue that this was Motorhead's first tour in the United States. No one had yet named the "new wave of heavy metal" that was taking hold of America's music scene. I only knew I liked AC/DC, Judas Priest, and the likes of this crazy dude who sang "Overkill." All that was important this day, though, was that my cousin Bunchie had tickets to an Ozzy tour and I'd (hopefully) get to hear "Overkill" sung live. Seven hours and 403 miles later... "Oh my God, Bunchie! These guys are beyond loud! I felt my teeth vibrate. Look at his mic; he's screaming up into it. I bet his neck gets sore!" All at once, everyone in the joint is singing, (well screaming):
You think you see me in the glass "Damn, are my ears bleeding? These guys are slaughtering us!" I remember thinking, "Bunchie was right. Motorhead Forever!" In the middle of the concert I felt like I was playing "catch up" - like the whole crowd already knew Motorhead intimately. How could I have not known that this was one of their first performances on U.S. soil? It felt like everyone in Dayton, Ohio, was - all at once - becoming lifelong Motorhead fans. This was the loudest concert I'd been to in my seven-years of concert going. "Motorhead is gnarly." By the fifth song into Motorhead's set, Bunchie and I were riding the rail. I could almost touch the stage. Lemmy screams to the crowd, "Do you know where the bloody HELL you are, man?" The crowd starts chanting "Dayton, Dayton..." but Lemmy cuts us off with one swoosh of his hand. "You're in the middle of a fucking fruit field," he screams. "This place was built on a fruit field - so SUCK ON THIS!:"
Gonna show you what it's all about, "God, it's so freaking hot. Bunchie, where do you think they're carrying that girl who passed out?" "Wha?" No way cuz is gonna hear me. A voice from behind me screams, "They'll take her to sick-bay." I turned around and this old dude points to my Jimi Hendrix T-shirt and says, "Did you know Lemmy once served as a guitar roadie for Hendrix?" "Get outta here? No way. Hey, what's sick-bay?" "It's a staging area for folks who get sick or pass out or get arrested." Not one thought enters my head like: How does this guy know this? Arrested? All I can think is, so, if I fake passing out, I can get backstage? I decided at that moment that I just HAD to meet the guy who was assaulting me and the crowd with his screaming rock-n-roll. The whole arena was shaking from the loudness, and the crowd was moving as one. In the middle of "The Ace of Spades," I decided it would be a good idea to go for it. I tell Bunchie that I'll see her after the show, and I lean as far over the railing as I can reach. I end up busting my ass. "Damn, I thought these guys would help me," I thought.
Whoa! All of a sudden I felt myself being lifted up and swiftly carried away. Keep your eyes After what felt like mere seconds, I was lying on a cold cement floor with a towel under my head. "You, Okay?" "Yeah, thanks, man." "Well, just lay here for a few minutes. I'll get you something cold to drink." Lay here, Hell.
 Metallica performed as "The Lemmys" for Lemmy's 50th Birthday Party 12/14/95 - Whisky a Go-Go - Los Angeles (Picture courtesy of MetClub.com) I bolted. Even backstage, the music was incredibly loud. I started snooping around and noticed that the music was getting more faint. I came upon a room where about 10 folks were setting up food and an inordinate amount of booze. I've never seen so much liquor. "Who are you?" I hear from behind. "Huh?" "Who are you?" A little louder and more irritated. "Oh, the big tall dude sent me to help," I said desperately - pointing behind me like I meant a real person. "Help set up this table. Where's your hang-tag, dumb ass?"
An instant knot formed in the pit of my stomach. What kind of lie can I come up with about To my right, a tall, burly dude, who looked like he was running the joint, threw a hang-tag at me. Whoa, I'm in! I was ecstatic. "Hurry up you dumb asses, do you hear the crowd. The boys are done."
Oh, my God. Is Motorhead gonna be in this room? What seemed like hours later, Lemmy pops through the door and quietly walks over to the liquor. I nearly faint. All I could think was I'm in "What's wrong, blossom?" No one's offered you a drink?" I nearly peed myself. All I could think was: Don't blow it dumb ass! "The show was awesome, Mr. Kilmister." "Mr. Kilmister? You fucking kiddin' blossom? Lemmy." "Are those real bullets?" God, did I just ask that? What an f'ing dork, I am. "May I touch one?" GOD, I AM an idiot, I thought to myself. "Well sure, blossom, but don't get fussy if I start touching yer..." "WHO ARE YOU?" A new, loud, very angry voice seems to come from the sky and interrupt Lemmy. Damn, I'm busted. The familiar knot reappears instantly in my stomach, and I feel a really large hand grab my elbow. Lemmy reaches out and slows the behemoth down. I feel like my elbow is gonna fall off. "How old are you, blossom? Are you with the tour?," Lemmy knowingly asks. Lie, lie, lie, I thought. But my mouth would only spit out an embarrassingly quiet, "14." "Fourteen, my arse!" Lemmy laughs, taking a long swig. "You're 20 if you're a day." "Sorry, Lemmy. I just wanted to meet you. I snuck back here. Did you really work as a guitar tech for Jimi Hendrix? What was he like?" "I probably thought about him like you're feeling right now, blossom," Lemmy said in a surprisingly tender voice. "But, we'll have to be having this," he said as he removed the hang-tag from around my neck. "No need gettin' arrested for grabbing melons on a fruit field." I tried to work up the nerve to ask Lemmy another question, but my mind went blank. The intense pain around my elbow reappeared as the behemoth had me in his clutches. As I was hurried from the room, a roadie, techie, tour worker, (someone) handed me an Ace of Spades button, and I held onto it for dear life.
 Ace of Spades button I screamed back to the room, "Thanks for the gnarly show, Lemmy!" "Hope that was a compliment, blossom. Keep on rockin' and rollin'." Rock Life-Lesson: Even behemoth's can be kind. I asked the burly dude who escorted me all the way out of the backstage area what "Motorhead" stood for, and he said it was slang for "speed freak." How ironic - my "freakishly speedy" encounter at this show was with the band, and the man, who would most influence future speed metal giants like Metallica. Though it went by far too fast; it was worth it. God bless you Lemmy for some of the loudest, rawest, dirtiest rock-n-roll ever played.
Love, blossom.
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