Hammersmith Odeon, London 1987
He breaks all four strings on his bass with the first chord.
Smooth as ice, a roadie rushes up and slips another bass over his broad shoulders. A bomber descends from the sky. An actual bomber. The band play on, churning out monster chord after monster chord.
Three concerned Motörhead fans walk up to where I’m dancing in the aisles, my senses long ago lost to the comfort of oblivion. “Are you all right mate?” one asks, looking down to where I’m carving a groove into the carpeted floor with my head.
Yeah. Yeah. I think so.
(taken from The Electrical Storm, illustration Vincent Vanoli)