In the mid-1980s, Motörhead were close to the peak of their popularity, riding high on the back of their early 1980s hit single ‘Ace of Spaces’.
Motörhead, however, were never about hit singles: they were about raucous gigs, cussing and snarling and living life in top gear. To a timid student like me, at Reading University at the time, dressed in my M&S jeans and V-neck jumper bought by my mother, such a rock-and-roll attitude was alien.
Passing by the closed double doors of the events hall, I heard the terrible crashing of drums and the scream of electric guitars. I paused, cracked open the door and peered into the hall.
Dressed all in black, long hair down to his shoulders and with what might charitably be called a ‘lived-in’ face, the man I recognised as Lemmy (real name Ian Fraser Kilmister, 1945-2015) strolled towards me. He stopped only when he was one step away from my where I was standing by the door.
Lemmy’s face was dominated by an enormous moustache, which looked like an upside-down hairy horseshoe, and large sideburns, which I had no hope of ever emulating.
Was this my chance to secure another famous autograph, to go alongside that of the footballer Frank Worthington in my childhood scrapbook?
‘IF YOU DON’T F****** F*** OFF RIGHT NOW, I WILL KICK YOUR F****** FACE IN!’, he screamed into my face.
I cracked a nervous smile, muttered an apology, and retreated as fast as a speeding bullet.
