The emotional prologue of the graphic novel about Lemmy (Motörhead) written in the handwriting of Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters) comes to light

The tributes to the always longed for figure of Lemmy Kilmister they continue to be produced. If a few days ago we knew that Motörhead will celebrate its 50th anniversary with a book of graphic stories in which Lars Ulrich (Metallica), Ozzy Osbourne and many more will reflect his encounters with the deceased musician, the emotional prologue of this work written in the handwriting of Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters).

Through Loudwire We know the exact content that will introduce readers to the graphic novel in one fell swoop. ‘No Remorse: The Illustrated True Stories of Lemmy Kilmister and Motörhead’. Almost everyone who had the privilege of knowing Lemmy They have a story about this rock and roll outlaw who always seemed more myth than man. But those stories are true, as the title of the graphic novel attests, and that is what made him an undisputed legend. Let’s not forget that we are talking about the same man whose ashes were enclosed in bullets and distributed among his best friends.

In the prologue, Grohl contextualizes the personality of the leader Motörhead better than nobody. The icon of Foo Fighters and Nirvana He was one of his best friends and the late star became an influence throughout his entire career. Grohl. That influence and relationship have been immortalized in a commemorative tattoo on the left forearm of Grohl.

This is how the prologue began: ““We are Motörhead and we play rock n’ roll.” This simple statement, delivered with the unmistakable growl of Lemmy Kilmister at a shocking 130 decibels (the same volume as a plane taking off or a gunshot at point-blank range) served as a simple but appropriate introduction to the nuclear rhythm, boogie-woogie and speed freak of Motörhead’s countless legendary live performances. Standing on stage with a Rickenbacker bass slung around his outlaw body like a World War II soldier with an MG-42 machine gun slung over his shoulder, Lemmy sculpted a terrifying, yet beautifully iconic figure. An apocalyptic whiskey cowboy Christ. And he wasn’t fucking joking. Within seconds of this threatening proclamation, the band launched into a relentless and shocking repertoire of exactly that: Rock and Roll. A virtual sound bath from hell.

Over the years, many have classified Motörhead’s sound as hard rock. Others have called it heavy metal. Some have even dared to label it punk rock. Call it what you want, but the truth is that Motörhead’s roots were always deeply embedded in the swing and swagger of rock and roll’s original architects.

The heartbreaking screams of Little Richard, the eternal freshness of the Everly Brothers and the impeccable rhythm of the Beatles (a band that Lemmy saw perform at the Cavern Club in Liverpool at the tender age of 16), can be found among the grooves of any Motörhead album. Listen to songs like “No Class,” “I’ll Be Your Sister,” or “Bomber,” and you’ll undoubtedly hear the notes and rhythms of past legends that shaped this man’s never-ending love of rock n’ roll, though at neck-breaking speed (pun intended).

The rockers loved them. The headbangers loved them. The punks loved them. And they can all argue and debate the origins of Motörhead’s monstrous musicianship until their leather jackets fall off, but in the end the heart of all things Motörhead was not the work of anyone else. It was the work of one man: Lemmy.

“If we moved next door to your house, your grass would die…” he once said. Did he mean the volume that only he and his merry band of hooligans were capable of conjuring? To the quantities of chemicals that only they could consume? The legions of die-hard fans who would no doubt flock to his master’s humble abode as some kind of obligatory Motörhead mecca, mowing down everything in their path?

We will never know, but it is clear that beneath Lemmy’s dark and sinister personality lurked a wickedly brilliant, passionate and outrageously funny man. With a Marlboro cigarette in one hand and a Jack and Coke in the other, Lemmy could get out of any situation. He was a messenger, a seer, a villain, a wolf, a guardian, an angel. But to most, Lemmy was a hero, and his influence is forever immeasurable.

We all received a gift on December 24, 1945. A Capricorn was born somewhere in the West Midlands of the United Kingdom and lived to become king. His crown from him? A battered black hat under his sniper gaze. His kingdom? The rock and Roll. His army of him? You and I.

Long live the king.

Dave Grohl

19-1-24”.

You can get the graphic novel about Lemmy in this link.

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