It
shouldn't be a death that resurfaces an interest, but it was.
Lemmy Kilmister. Lead singer of
Motorhead, guitarist, musician is dead. Well not everyone would call him a musician,
not when they find out he's from a metal band. Perhaps they know he is from
general knowledge.
I only just knew of him in the
last six years? It's strange to say, that I am a metal head. People wouldn't
guess it, often commenting that I don't look like one. It's a strange genre of music, one people
often know little or everything about. But I am. It came to be when pop or punk
did not suite and Classical just didn't have the thunder I needed when I was
younger to hammer the angst out of me.
For me, I speak of it in the
same way someone would a fine whiskey. Most people guzzle it, smashing it back
because they know nothing of the burn when they were fifteen and two young to
pay money for the good stuff. What starts as a roar of noise to most, can be dissected
by an avid lover, to something more. A rich under belly. The notes come apart,
creating fine layers, detailed. Often the musicians are as adventurous with
their words as they are with instruments. It's not only drums, guitar and base.
It doesn't work the same way it
used, or perhaps I've been so immersed in other genres that different portions
of my musical pallet now have fulfillment. Yet I know it like an old friend.
When it roars out to you, lifting you above the day, the jabbering and
uselessness. Makes you strong, makes you the warrior of their tales. You can be
the hero! Don't be afraid, it says, you are strong! You are strong!
It sits in the base of me, as I
listen, the weight of the guitar, chugging. The fine tones of the lyrics,
calling to some lost sea god. The much needed middle tones that only come with
the balance of both ends. It makes for a audible painting, a rush of emotions,
a feeling of somewhere in time and space.
I'm sad
about Lemmy's passing. I'm surrounded by this adventurous, historical music,
with its classical and blues roots fused together, creating this monolithic structure,
often intimidating, but never boring, never empty of things to listen to, for
those who dare. And it was because of guys like him. Those who wished for
something dark, something sinister, to wash over you and then lift you from its
depths to be King of the darkness, listen to some metal.
