Seeing the immortalized supermensch caricatures of indisputable rock legends succumb to the disheartening limits of reality is a sad, sad state of affairs. Due to the running off at the mouth that I tend to go on, I’ve been put in the spotlight of being the douchebag who predicted the not so untimely deaths of two of the most iconic frontmen and songwriters of their respective genres. I never did make a post which I could have filled upon the death of the first, but the second, fucking hell if I could ever actually take back something I typed and posted on the internet, it would be that. I suppose in coincidence’s sick twisted joke, I’ve now helped kill grunge and metal. Way to fucking go you sick asshole, me.
Anyway, I’m pretty much speechless after spending the night I was to write my list for best albums of the year drinking Jack Daniels in memory of Lemmy, easily one of the most respected and legendary metal musicians. Living to the age of 70, he outlived other members of Motorhead and defied statistical probability for years. A true force, only his age and ailing health in his final years could eventually keep a cold soldier down. He was a figure in the Mount Rushmore of Metal, only he could be Killed By Death like we all could:
It was just a short month and a half ago that I was posting that same footage in memory of the late Philthy Animal, and now there it goes again for the old man himself Lemmy. Motorhead started as a side project of the band Hawkwind, which was a band that you had to eat a 10 strip of acid to appreciate, and Lemmy was Jimi Hendrix’s guitar tech before joining Hawkwind. Needless to say, Lemmy’s origin story is that of the legend he is.
Motorhead’s career lasted 40 years since their beginning when Lemmy left Hawkwind back in 1975. Motorhead were true careerists, their unrelenting blend of hard rock and speedy punk-like delivery served to be an influence to the creation of genres of like thrash metal and hardcore punk. Motorhead never sold out and never broke up during the ups and downs of their career and constant rotation of dudes through the line up besides Lemmy.
In the 1990s, Lemmy made a ton of cash by writing Ozzy Osbourne’s hit songs “See You On The Other Side” and “Hellraiser” which was later featured in Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, and Motorhead saw a career reanimation in the 2000s when they began releasing some of their best albums in 20+ years with Hammered, Inferno and The World Is Yours. When I was a young kid and picked up Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3, I heard the song Ace of Spades and fell in love with Motorhead. That song was a perfect match for virtual reality skateboarding as much as it was a perfect match for an 11 year old who needed harder, faster music in his life.
Since then we’ve also gotten the awesome documentary finished now just a few years before the end of his life. “Lemmy” is a great documentary of a real rock star who never compromised for anything and always lived his life to the fullest and most extreme. Lemmy never took shit from anyone and never gave a fuck. The man was an icon and a legend. Bow down and respect the legacy of the ugliest man to ever bang 3,000 bitches in history.
Only being Killed By Death could stop a legend like him.
Unfortunately he was not the only notable death in rock music of the month, and now we have to contemplate the sad fate of Scott Weiland.
Scott Weiland was a lot like Lemmy in the voracious appetite for mind altering substances and booze territory and also in the genre defining end of things, but his origin story was a bit different. Scott’s a hometown legend from Cleveland, being born in San Jose, CA but growing up in the tired distant suburb of here, Bainbridge, Ohio. Scott moved back to California and founded the Stone Temple Pilots and the rest was history.
After getting into bands like Nirvana and Alice in Chains I obviously wanted more, Stone Temple Pilots were right up there for a young me, just around the time I was getting into stuff like Motorhead as well. Unforunately Stone Temple Pilots were announcing their disbandment just as I got into them. In 2004 I bought their greatest hits album “Thank You” and that fall “Plush” was on the grunge station in Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas along with Lemmy and Ozzy’s collaboration track. I was also big into Velvet Revolver back when they first came out and got “Contraband”, Scott was exactly the Axl Rose replacement Slash and Duff needed for a career at the time. Their music didn’t exactly age as well though. What did were Core and Purple, I still listen to them to this day with frequency.
As I got older and really cared less about career follies like his solo career and “Libertad”, I actually started to enjoy Stone Temple Pilots beyond the Core and Purple albums. Tiny Music from the Vatican Gift Shop was a hugely divisive album of it’s time which actually saved Stone Temple Pilots from being written off as post grunge posers, and it’s pop melodies may not have done anything for 14 year old me, but 24 year old me can certainly enjoy the ever loving fuck out of them. Number 4 brings back some more of the grunge sound to this and it’s also a fantastic album.
To bring it all back around though, Scott had a very successful run with Velvet Revolver and then the STP reunion in the 2000s. Stone Temple Pilots’ reunion album is still among my least favorite reunion albums of all time, it was a very mediocre pile of phoned in bullshit that sounds worse than any Velvet Revolver or even Shangri La De Da. But when Scott was up for the challenge, STP still could bring it live. His last days were spent being a laughing stock on Youtube for his awful live performances, some would say the same for Lemmy. All considered, this is the toll living that life to the realest and fullest will take on you, and you will end up dying. Existence is finite. When you think of the immortal you are only thinking of those defying the statistic of chance. Our heroes will all succumb to their eventual ends. And reality is a cold, cold world you live in. Goodnight, remember those who were memorable.
Now I will shut the fuck up for a long, long time. Shut the fuck up too.