Published on Mar 10, 1998
A lot of critics like myself have been recently talking about
the comeback of metal – older groups like Judas Priest and W.A.S.P.
have come back to the forefront, while others like Quiet Riot and
Ratt have decided to reunite.
Motorhead, though, is a unique case. They have continued plowing
forward with their own style of metal, irregardless of the state of
the genre and the smoking wreckage of former bands that have fallen
in their path. Reduced to a three-piece again a few years ago,
Motorhead continues to follow their own hearts and, led by their
omnipresent bassist/vocalist/
ubermensch Ian “Lemmy” Kilmister, they have continued to pad
their fan base.
Their latest effort,
Snake Bite Love, seems to sum up the ’90s version of the
band, with influences in the songwriting dipping back to their 1991
album
1916 – and in doing so, they take a minor step
backwards.
One of the most outspoken frontmen of any genre (with maybe the
exception of Zack De La Rocha of Rage Against The Machine), Lemmy
again pulls no punches in his lyrics here. From the “politician
swine” on both sides of the Atlantic (“Take The Blame”) to those
out to deceive (“Don’t Lie To Me”), Kilmister’s venom hasn’t
weakened over 25 years – if anything, it’s more potent now.
With guitarist Phil Campbell and drummer Mickey Dee still on
board, Motorhead’s sound is just as strong as it has been in years,
though there are times that the second guitar of Wurzel is still
missed, if only to fill out the sound (nothing against Campbell’s
playing, for he is one of the band’s best guitarists to fill that
slot).
The overall sound of
Snake Bite Love is slower than some of Motorhead’s recent
albums. While such rockers like
Bastards and
Sacrifice almost reverted Motorhead back to speed metal,
Snake Bite Love‘s tempo shifts down a gear or two, as heard
on “Joy Of Labour” and the first single “Love For Sale”. And while
songs in this vein show that Lemmy and crew can write slower tempo
songs, I have to admit I miss the all-out thrashing of some of the
numbers. “Joy Of Labour” does give Lemmy a chance to show off his
talents on the bass guitar, something I think a lot of people have
taken for granted.
And as often as the music challenges the listener to keep up
(“Assassin,” complete with its bizarre tempo – is that 13/8 time?)
Motorhead go out to just entertain their fans as well. The title
track is one of the funniest, most interesting numbers they’ve done
in some time – this coming from someone who thinks their last weak
album was
Iron Fist back in 1982.
I don’t remember where I read it, but Lemmy claims the last time
he tried “singing” was on
Orgasmatron in 1986. Three words: bullshit, bullshit,
bullshit. Lemmy shows more than once on
Snake Bite Love that he is a competent, albeit hoarse,
vocalist; the softer moments on “Dead And Gone,” the harmony vocals
on “Love For Sale,” the harmonies on “Joy Of Labour”… I think you
get the point. He might not be Michael Bolton… but then again, is
that a bad thing? No singer, my arse.
While
Snake Bite Love does keep Motorhead’s energy level far into
the redline, one can’t help but notice that some of the songwriting
seems to feel like these are leftovers from
1916, an album which had to grow on you before it displayed
its true glory. Since receiving an advance copy of this album a few
weeks ago, I’ve listened to it about 15 times, and only now am I
really starting to warm up to it completely. On first listen, it’s
as cuddly as a pit viper.
Motorhead fans will surely swallow
Snake Bite Love whole, and it is worth investing the time
and money in. But it also could possibly be a warning sign that
things won’t always be so glorious for Motorhead.