POP Montreal review: Motörhead is unstoppable

Motörhead
Olympia
September 16, 2015

Friday was an epic night for heavy metal in Montreal. Legendary English rock and rollers Motörhead, currently on their 40th anniversary tour, paired up with American thrash band Anthrax for a spectacular, sold-out show of heroically hard music. Dance Laury Dance – hard rockers from Quebec – opened the show, and when I arrived, Olympia was already panic-attack-level crowded inside. For the whole night, metalheads, punks, and bikers without tickets also milled about outside the venue smoking, drinking, and sharing their love of Lemmy (Kilmister, Motörhead’s infamous leader). Despite grave health problems in the last few years, and several cancelled concerts recently – including within the last few weeks – Lemmy has made it clear that the rock show must go on, stating: “This is what I’m supposed to do, not be in hospital.”

The crowd, singing along to Anthrax’s opener, “Madhouse” (Spreading the Disease, 1985), seemed especially attuned to songs from the earliest few albums. Which made sense: a lot of the audience was made up of middle-aged or older white men. And they all seemed to know the lyrics by heart. Were they having the time of their lives remembering youth and its forgotten lyrics, or do these tough old dudes still listen to Anthrax all the time? A happy thought. The entire set was pretty joyous actually: Anthrax is known for playful performances and fun banter. Scott Ian, guitarist, lyricist, and last remaining original member of Anthrax, chatted us up, threw tokens into the crowd, and kept reiterating how much the band loves performing. Ian’s final, jubilant declaration – “WE’VE BEEN DOING THIS FOR THIRTY YEARS!!!” – also set the proper tone of enthusiastic reverence for Motörhead’s entry. Lemmy may be feeling his mortality lately, but they’ve been at it for four fucking decades already and they’re literally the loudest band in the world.

People started up chants of “Lemmy, Lemmy, Lemmy” at various points, but never “Motörhead.” The crowd did burst into big cheers when the Motörhead flag went up, though. The band opened with “Bomber” (from Bomber, 1979) and at first I had a terrible knot in my stomach because Lemmy was almost completely inaudible – and although he was never one to run around the stage, his absolute stillness was kind of eerie. Luckily he warmed up fairly quickly and soon started to sound more like his gravelly self. Guitarist Phil Campbell also kept the crowd occupied during Lemmy’s frequent breaks: a guitar interlude was lovely but came so soon in the show that it seemed obvious Lemmy, who had left the stage and did so again several times during the show, needed that time to recuperate. Virtuoso drummer Mikkey Dee also kept us entertained with a slammin’ solo.

I’m sure there are a few naysayers out there who were disappointed because Lemmy struggled a few times during the set of 10 songs plus an encore. But the overwhelming vibe of the crowd was one of bacchanalian jubilance and gratitude: people crowdsurfed all night, even when no music was playing, I saw shoes, drinks, and other objects flying through the air, two girls up on their friends’ shoulders fought each other in the pit, and at one point I realized that the guy next to me was doing keys, pumping his fist, and taking cell photos all at the same time. Those photos will suck, but I think Lemmy would approve.