More than 45 years ago, after a hard day editing Zigzag magazine at its offices off Portobello Road it became something of a routine to visit Lemmy at his home around the corner. Essentially a low-lit basement, his lair boasted a double bed, comfy chairs, floor cushions, stereo system, and a patchwork-mirrored coffee table that had obviously seen action.
Walls were hung with Motörhead-related flags and posters, shelves and cupboards stuffed with books, records and identical white boots. Lemmy stayed here all the way through Motörhead’s rise to No Sleep ’Til Hammersmith. “I like it here!” he explained. “It’s a nice, shabby pit for me to crawl into. I’ve always lived like this.”
