Eat the Rich

"We are Motôrhead...we play Rock & Roll Music!"



this is what Motôrhead's fan base look like. Heavy, dude.

Lemmy's surprisingly small in the flesh, with a huge barrel of a chest. A fine figure of a man...all that speed & whiskey has done him reet


Lemmy & Phillip Anthony Campbell showoff their more liberal tendencies

Killed by Death


Phil's cosmic phantom of the opera extended dream-scape guitar solo amidst a sea of dry ice probably seemed like a cock-on plan after 30-odd years of excess.

Whorehouse Blues unplugged

kablamo

the old folks were stoked, and so was I...Deaf Forever!

Under a Green Mountain

I made this zine of poetry/bullshit a while ago now, feel free to drop us a line (beastmangoat@hotmail.com) if you'd like a copy...

Seasonal Blues

life happens at a rate of knots more often than not...to try to keep up is futile, to give up is maybe worse? I dunno, here's some shit that's happened thus far this year (2011, if anyone's counting...)


it's probably best to not dwell too long or hard on the particulars of any situation which leaves an aftermath of cheesecake and rusty pliers on a public bench.


Vincent Price stands up proud and tall at Kirkby

Vince & Charlie

Czech out Beansnax (and his switch f/s wallrides!)



the wood ist chopeth when the winter cometh


someone died

not Doyle though...


Snax wallies in Midsummer Norton

and nollington bigglesworth's in Cheddah


Squashy hollied a metal hound in North Notts


dead dog









When men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you've just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving low...



And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah smoking caterpillar
Has given you the call...

Go ask Butcher
When he's 10 foot Paul

Unsympathetic to Spastics

This snap is from a Fall gig at the Boardwalk in Sheffield, sometime around 2004/05, from what I can remember. It was a typically tense affair; the band were about two hours late and Mark E. Smith was even later (the band played for about 40 minutes before he shuffled on and started fucking around with their equipment) and full of the malevolence, bickering and general arseholeness that any good Fall gig should have. I had managed to squirm my way to the front, when Mr. M.E. Smith decided to yank the mics out of the bass drum (thus rendering it useless) and ditch them into the crowd, which is when this photo happened. Somehow, I managed to duck the flying mics and they smashed the guy stood behind me square in the mush, breaking his gegs...The Fall are pretty much perfect.