Motorhead - Kiss of Death
In some ways, the task of reviewing a new Motörhead album is a remarkably easy one. I don't have to bother trying to tell you what it sounds like because everyone and their dog and their dog's fleas and their dog's fleas' internal parasites knows the Motörhead sound. Even if you don't actually own one of their LPs (and if not, shame on you), you've probably got 'Ace of Spades' on a compilation somewhere ("Power Rock Anthems For The Drive To The Shops Vol. 7"), or at the very least you saw it on that episode of "The Young Ones" or something.
Of course, the very ubiquitousness of 'Ace of Spades' often means that Motörhead are taken for granted. Plus, the band have made little effort to deviate from their template over the years, and their interchangeable Snaggletooth album covers don't help matters either. Nevertheless, the pendulum is starting to swing Motörhead's way again, and their previous album, 2004's "Inferno," was hailed as their best work for decades. While that LP didn't offer anything staggeringly new in terms of songwriting, there was a renewed energy in its grooves and, crucially, a fatter, more modern production.
The press release tells me that "Kiss of Death" is the band's 23rd album, and as I haven't got enough fingers and toes to count that far I'll have to take their word for it. As might be expected, it picks up pretty much where "Inferno" left off. This is by no means a bad thing; there's honour in knowing who you are and what you're best at, and this album is indelibly stamped with the Motörhead swagger. Only misty-eyed nostalgia for the days when you could drape your bullet belt around a 26-inch waist would blind you to the fact that the long-serving line-up of Lemmy, Phil Campbell (guitars) and Mikkey Dee (drums) is the best the group has seen in its 30 year-plus history, and when they're applying themselves to a collection of songs as great as these, your ears are in for a treat. There are few surprises here, but honestly, would you want them? Complaining that Motörhead play crunching heavy metal rock 'n roll is like complaining that Picasso couldn't draw faces properly.
Like "Inferno", the production on "Kiss of Death" is expansive and powerful, adding a real weight to the riffing and making this probably the heaviest album of Motörhead's career to date. Rawness is not completely sacrificed for the sake of clarity, however: - this is still a fearsome noise, and the only thing filthier than Lemmy's hair is his bass tone. I would say the production was warts 'n all, but that would be a little too obvious... Motörhead's newfound penchant for meaty, downtuned riffing doesn't always work: 'Living In The Past' and 'Kingdom Of The Worm', with their pummelling guitars and almost spoken verses (I'm not going to say rapped...), come across a bit like a band from the 1980s struggling to sound 1990s. In the 21st century. But for the most part you're going to find little to complain about here. And, fantastically, the digipack version of this album includes a cover version of Metallica's 'Whiplash'.
Sisters of Mercy frontman Andrew Eldritch once offered the opinion that there were only two real heavy metal bands in the world: the Sisters themselves and Motörhead. And while the miserable old git may have been deluding himself as to his own status (you're a goth, Andrew, a goth!) he hit the nail on the head when it came to Lemmy's crew. True metal isn't about loincloths, keyboards, operatic vocals and oiled-up homoeroticism; it's dirty denim, whisky-soaked leather, and nicotine-stained fingers cranking distorted rock 'n roll out of sweat-slicked instruments (actually, that does sound a bit homoerotic). The past few weeks have seen the return of some of metal's biggest names, but as good as the new Iron Maiden and Slayer albums are, "Kiss of Death" has got them beat hands down (and horns up).