Even the Gods are Mortal

Sad news. A week afrer Motörhead had to abandon a gig four songs into the set at Salt Lake City due to Lemmy feeling unwell, the same thing happens a week later in Austin Texas.

As reported in NOISEY.

Lemmy walked offstage mid-song; a fan-filmed video caught him saying it— ”I can’t do it”—before he shuffles off, slowly, painfully, with the help of the cane he’s recently started using. The crowd, stunned, quickly regained its composure and began cheering—not heckling, cheering—for him. A chant rippled through the venue—”We love you! We love you!”—in a display of solidarity and communal support that could bring even the most hardened metal veteran to tears. After a few moments, the 69-year-old frontman reappeared, and grabbed the mic. ”I would love to play for you, but I can’t. Please accept my apologies. Next time, alright?”

And of course they accepted. A friend who was there told me that the crowd was sad—he mentioned seing fans weeping afterwards—but “very understanding,” and I’m not surprised. No Motörhead fan—or metal fan in general—could have stood there and watched the great man falter like that, and then reacted any other way.

Lemmy is the embodiment of the spirif of rock’n'roll. If he was an In Nomine character, he’s be word-bound, and I’ll leave you to decide if he’s angel, demon or something else. But in the real world, even gods are mortal.

After releasing such a blistering new album, it’s sad so see Lemmy’s increasingly frail health catch up with him, and it’s time to hang up his Rickenbacker.  As the linked article says, it’s killing us to watch him die.

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