When I left Hawkwind, the cojones came with me.
This book is not for the faint of heart or those easily offended. If you have ever seen Lemmy speak, you will know that what you see is what you get. This book feels like you are sitting down at the bar at the Rainbow, doing shots of Jack Daniel’s while Lem smokes and drinks and spins his tale. He’s not in the business of sugar-coating anything, that’s for sure, but I gotta admire the guy for speaking his mind and living his life his way.
The conversational feel of the book lends itself well to the material as he recounts his humble beginnings in Wales all the way up to the aughts. Born in 1945, he was there for the birth of rock and roll and it changed his life. From that time on, he could see first hand the 
musical and cultural revolution going on in England in particular and it fit him to a tee. He played in this and that band, did some “running and fetching” for the Jimi Hendrix Experience and finally landed in Hawkwind. That is where a bass was thrust in his hands and three years later, he was out of the band and forming his own three-piece, naming it Motorhead, for one of the last songs he wrote with Hawkwind. And he hasn’t looked back.
There are plenty of tales about outrageous rock and roll behavior, scoring chicks and taking drugs, not to mention the horrible things record companies, promoters and management does. Lem is not afraid to speak his mind on any and all of these subjects. Some of it is hard to read but it’s life as he’s lived it and he never backs away from it. The man just does not take himself that seriously and that humor and perspective go a long way to making this ribald rollicking read worth it. But there is an index-beginning with acid (LSD) and ending with ZZ Top-in case you just want to jump to the juicy bits.
