It was the year 1981 when a buddy put these chunks of vinyl on my turntable, moving the knob on the amplifier to the right direction of rotation. The beloved Schlager or male choir fans, with whom I lunched and dined, were out of the house, the Bacardi-Cola was mixed, so I was ready for a 'new frontier experience', as I was informed by my friend's full-bodied. Of course I knew the previous studio releases the band somewhat, but somehow I had the whole can not fully convince. In other words: As a fan you could not call me. And I was already running at the slightest chance for any new, hard guitar to Peter Mucke's record store in Bruchsal, where most Bernd, a 100% -Metaller stood behind the counter. I had everything, possible brutally (which considerably relativized in today compared with hard Mucke in most cases) and in my eyes yet sophisticated (ie possible abnormal and shock forming) was noisy, hence my record collection was at that time already with a full for that time considerable collection of punk and metal discs. And then it started. With Ace Of Spades. But what was that? Had someone made the vacuum cleaner and connected to the amplifier? Before me stood an impenetrable wall of guitar, bass and Schlagzeuggeböller and above, Lemmy shouted sore vocal cords. I could not believe it. Where was that little melody that was known of the studio disc? StayClean was no better. A pulpy disaster. That could not be serious !? Thus a continuous monotonous Gewummer I had only heard: UK Subs with Crash Course. But that was punk! The allowed that! But a heavy metal band with such an impenetrable board? I was horrified, my friend called me a philistine, we drunk we heard Clash and Dead Kennedys and that's it.
But:
The disk no longer went out of my mind, this experience was just too disgusting. A week later I traipsed from the record shop, squatted on moped's, went home, took a Half Gallon Bacardi out of the closet and made myself comfortable. And within hours I had fallen this disc. With each pass, and with increasing awareness benebelterem the sounds behave exactly antiparallel to my brain and it crystallized the song structures increasingly clear out. What a disc. More brutal than anything noisy as a jet and so uncompromising and authentic than any other album in this universe. And today, 30 years later, after me my 14-year-old Junior has now dragged to the third Motörhead gig and me thus again under the spell of Lemmy Kilmister, I can attest to this Urviech only positives. There are probably a few more honest and more consistent and still down to earth and human notable musicians like him. A happy, contented man who is living his dream and idolize the millions Headbanger rightly. And No Sleep 'Til Hammersmith? Has not one bit of its intensity is lost. A madness in grooves pressed. Unsurpassed. A monument to music. And the primordial soup for all hard genres that were to develop later. I am convinced that there is no disc, the bands from all harder gaits of Metal as speed trash Doom, etc., Industrial, Noise, Hardcore, and so on and so forth, more influenced than these. A borderline experience! Had he right after all, my buddy!
