This was a time of change for both Lemmy and I and for Motorhead. Lemmy finally gets me to himself and was thrilled to be the only man in my life. And Motorhead was about to go through a huge transition.
Finally, Lemmy could call me and know that I would be available at any time. No competition. The maintenance man was gone.
When I moved to Burbank a few months later, I did it quietly and undercover. I informed my landlord to not give out my new address. I did not want this guy in my life ever again.
Burbank was much closer to Lemmy’s place, so it was much more convenient for me to drop in. This was both good and in Lemmy’s mind a bit tricky as even though the extra guy in my life was gone, Lemmy still had extra “company”.
No more taxi rides. I now had a new pickup truck so could drop in to visit at any time. And living right over the hill – within minutes – these were nervous times for Lemmy.
Sacrifice
December 1994 concluded the recording of “Sacrifice”. I was fortunate enough to be present for one day of recording.
I had been around for the final recording of “Bastards”, August 1993, but I had not been through the entire process – the birth of a song from the very beginning to the presentation of the final product to the world.
During the recording of “Sacrifice” I could recall the moment a song was conceived; Lemmy and I lying across the bed in the sunshine as he pulled the words from his mind and put them to paper.
One Friday afternoon I called Lemmy, and he invited me up to Hollywood after work. I love the recording studio, so I couldn’t wait to get home and changed and packed for the weekend with Lemmy. I ordered a cab and went directly to the studio.
In the studio Lemmy was wearing tiny cut off denim shorts and no shoes. Lemmy was in rare form telling jokes and entertaining everyone with stories.
We hung out and partied till 3:00am then Phil gave us a ride back to Lemmy’s. It was always surreal to be in the car with Phil Campbell driving. Not sure why that was surreal, Phil was a friend at this point and an excellent driver, but it was always in my mind “Wow, this major rock star guitar player is driving me home in a tiny car – With Lemmy!” It just stood out as a strange moment to remember.
First you are leaving the recording studio, and you’re a bit drunk. Then you look at the driver of this ordinary car … and it’s Phil Campbell … and he is driving you home to Lemmy’s apartment. And Hollywood is flashing by; The walk of stars, The Whisky, The Roxy and The Rainbow… My mind was overwhelmed by these moments of just taking it in. Dreamlike.
The next day I awoke at 3:00 P.M. with a major hangover. For some reason when I hung out in the recording studio I always got really drunk.
The next day Lemmy went back to the studio for more recording and because of “major hangover Illness” I stayed at his place to sleep and watch movies.
This time I was left behind, but it was my own damn fault. I should never try to keep up with MOTORHEAD and crew in drinking and partying. I always end up left out the next day and they just continue as if they had stayed in and not drank at all the night before! True professionals.
Wurzel Leaves Motorhead
This was a crazy transitional time for Motorhead. As I was just getting to know the Motorhead family, I was out of the loop on the inside tension. There was no indication that they were coming apart at the seams.
Everyone seemed friendly and like they were having a good time. Lemmy may have grumbled a bit here and there, but he seemed happy with the band.
My relationship with Wurzel was never more than as a passing acquaintance. We had shared beers on occasion, but I never felt close to him or like I ever really got to know him well.
It all seemed to happen suddenly. I remember being at Lemmy’s, lounging on the couch and Lemmy being very angry. He would get on the phone and shout and speak with such a heated tone. Never had I seen him like this: gnashing his teeth and physically filled with anger.
The fax machine would ring, and he would stomp over and snatch the fax paper and read it. He would then grab a sharpy pen or a marker and scribble a reply. Then march back over to the machine and send his message.
I remember him being so angry and upset. This was Motorhead family business, so I tried not to involve myself. I let him be and deal on his own terms. If he wanted to fill me in on the details, I let him vent. But I was careful not to give my opinion or any input. Being there to listen and be comforting were my focus.
When Lemmy told me that Wurzel had left Motorhead, I was shocked. I could not believe it. Motorhead were on the upswing with new albums and new label contracts.
Lemmy seemed crushed and like a man who had just lost a best friend.
Christmas with Lemmy
I arrived at Lemmy’s for Christmas and as usual began cleaning. I cleaned the bathroom and the entire living room. He was so happy. And I was relieved because on Christmas Eve, which is also Lemmy’s birthday, he gets so many visitors.
If I did not clean, visitors must stand about in the living room, drink in hand, with nowhere to sit or to set a cocktail.
Lemmy got me a bracelet for Christmas. He had attached a piece of paper with gray electrical tape to the box.
Gray electrical tape is so festive don’t ya think! The note said “To Debra- Happy Christmas, Humbug etc. Love Lemmy.
I got him a deep fryer to make chips (French fries) and to make his special “poached eggs”. I say “special” because I have never in my life seen someone poach an egg in deep fryer grease, boiling water, yes, hot boiling grease, No.
We spent the weekend together and I felt like the girlfriend. Some of Lemmy’s friends stopped by and I was mixing drinks and playing hostess. I just loved it. I felt very domestic.
A few days later I called Lemmy to try to make New Year’s Eve plans. He did not seem to want to talk about it and just really did not seem excited about the whole issue.
We agreed to get together to do something, nothing specific, just “let’s get together”. I figured that after the fiasco of last New Year’s Eve and of how he had not wanted to spend it with me that he would be more into it.
That negative voice in my head can really put me into a major head spin.
(UGH… so hard to think about how truly awful I was back then and so …just… UGH … And I could spin myself into the worst places in my mind…total self-destruction)
I really felt that our relationship had reached a point where he would be excited by the concept of ringing in the New Year with me, but not a bit of emotion or excitement came to his voice.
So, on Saturday December 31, after much head spinning, I called him and canceled our plans for me to join him at his place to hang out. He was furious.
I told him that I had other plans and that he could do whatever he felt would be more exciting than seeing me. We argued and fought.
I said that I wanted to go out and party. That I didn’t want to just sit in his tiny apartment and get drunk in front of the TV. I wanted to be around people and dance and listen to music. He wanted to stay in watch a movie, maybe order a pizza. I finally hung up on him.
I ended up going out with one of my psycho girlfriends to Pier 52 in Hermosa Beach to see BulletBoys.
The band was one of my favorites and I had fun – but – I drank too much and mixed lots of shots and lots of different types of alcohol including cheap champagne.
Warning … Caution! …Never go into a bar bathroom stall with a girl and sniff what you are told, and think is cocaine. It may not be, and you will be amnesic. It may be cocaine, but that may not be all that is being breathed up your nose.
All I can say is that I had fun … I think. My memory of the evening has many gaps. I do remember spilling a drink on the lead singer of Dream Theater and later that night dancing in a strange apartment, making out with my girlfriend while some guy took pictures.
I remember slow dancing and having my hand under her top feeling her breasts and her feeling mine all the while bright camera flashes were going off. It was like she and I were putting on a little naughty show.
I woke up on the floor in her apartment the next night around 6:00 P.M. This is not a good way to start the New Year; naked on a blanket on a floor in the dark completely unaware of where you are. And sick beyond belief.