Published on Sep 3, 1998
One thing I’ve always loved about the British heavy metal band
Motorhead is that they’re always fun to listen to. The sheer energy
of the performances and rather intelligent songwriting (at times),
compiled with the hoarse singing of bassist Ian “Lemmy” Kilmister,
make Motorhead, quite simply, a fun band to slam my head into the
plaster to.
After checking out some of the band’s more recent work here on
“The Daily Vault,” I thought it was time to head back into their
early days – meaning a trip into the Pierce Memorial Archives for
their 1978 release
Overkill. Twenty years after its release, it still is an
incredible album that hasn’t seemed to age a day (except in the
vocal department… we’ll talk about that soon enough).
If all you know of Motorhead is the material off any of the
number of compilation albums out on the market, then you should
feel very comfortable with
Overkill. From the constant double-bass work of Phil
“Philthy Animal” Taylor to the tasty leads whipped out of a
Stratocaster by “Fast” Eddie Clarke, the title track seems to say
everything you’re going to need to know about Motorhead in five
minutes. Kilmister’s vocals are surprisingly smooth, although there
are touches of the infamous hoarseness to them. (I’ve always
thought that Kilmister could hold a tune very well; his voice was
actually quite good in the early days of Motorhead.)
Fine, you’re saying, one track is great… but one track doesn’t
make for a great album. You’re right, and Motorhead backs it up
with song after song of vein-popping material. The fancy bass solo
on “Stay Clean,” the sheer power of “No Class,” the “thinking
person’s metal” of “Metropolis” and “Capricorn,” Motorhead
constantly offer material that should satisfy even the pickiest
metal fan. Even the final track from
Overkill, “Limb From Limb,” is a tour de force that dares
you to try and stop it.
The re-issue of
Overkill contains three bonus songs: an original version of
“Tear Ya Down” without vocals (different, but I still miss Lemmy),
a studio version of “Too Late, Too Late” (a live version appeared
on the 1984 best-of
No Remorse) and their cover of “Louie Louie” (formerly on
No Remorse, it didn’t make the cut on the CD due to space
restrictions).
What is striking about
Overkill is that, with the exception of Kilmister’s voice,
this album sounds like something that the band could have put out
last month. Its freshness is remarkable, especially for a heavy
metal album. (While we’re on that, this album isn’t always really
heavy metal; instead, I’d like to call it “hard rock” with an
occasional metal bend to the music.)
Whatever you choose to call it, there is one word that best fits
Overkill: classic.
1998 Christopher Thelen and “The Daily Vault”. All rights
reserved. Review or any portion may not be reproduced without
written permission. Cover art is the intellectual property of
RoadRacer Revisited Records, and is used for references purposes
only.