Iron Fist – Christopher Thelen

Iron Fist, the 1982 release from Lemmy Kilmister and the
other lads in Motorhead, proved to be a changing of the guard in
many ways. First, it marked the final appearance on record that
“Fast” Eddie Clarke would make as a member of the band, thus
spelling the end of a legendary version of Motorhead’s lineup. It
also spelled the beginning of a turn in Motorhead’s fortunes —
though this would not be for the better.

Maybe the time for change was right. From the first time I heard
this album way back when I was a teenager, it was obvious that
there was something not right about the overall sound of Motorhead.
Maybe it was the production quality that Will Reid Dick brought to
the table. Maybe it was that the songwriting and playing were
sub-par. Maybe this just qualified as Motorhead’s first
unsuccessful studio album in their history. (Libelous, I know —
but I happened to like
On Parole. So there.)

Granted, the title track is a work of art, even if its overall
sound doesn’t have enough bass to make Kilmister’s Rickenbacker
sound like it’s cracking the drywall. I guess my fondness for this
track could be due to the home video Deaf Not Blind, which I first
saw when I got into Motorhead (and because “Iron Fist” was the
leadoff video). But there’s a reason this track has been culled for
numerous best-of sets — namely, ’cause it’s a track that has a
solid hook and powerful performances from Clarke and Kilmister.

The problem is that this is the only track worth noting on
Iron Fist. The bulk of this disc sounds like it was written
on deadline, and needs more than a coat of paint on both the lyrics
and the musicianship. Tracks like “Go To Hell,” “Heart Of Stone”
and “(Don’t Need) Religion” are songs which should have been
spine-busters in Motorhead’s discography. But Kilmister often
sounds like he’s detached from the vocals, and Clarke really
doesn’t turn in anything spectacular in terms of guitar work,
making this disc an exercise in underachievement.

To make matters worse, the songs often sound like they stretch
on too long, despite the fact that many of them clock in at under
three minutes. Now, Motorhead had always been able to deliver a
lethal punch in that short of a time span — “Iron Fist” itself is
proof of that. But the lack of real development in these songs
makes the listener feel like they’re running a marathon with each
track, desperately searching for the end of the track. Even the
bonus song “Remember Me I’m Gone” (thrown on when RoadRacer
Revisited re-issued this disc some years ago) doesn’t help matters;
in fact, this track seems to bog the disc down even more.

In a sense, that’s really a shame, since
Iron Fist could well have been the closest thing to punk
rock that Motorhead had recorded in their career, and it could have
been a real barn-burner. But this particular offering from
Motorhead leaves more questions than answers, and is a sad
conclusion to a powerful chapter in their career. The worse news
for Kilmister was that Motorhead’s troubles weren’t over yet.