“Black Sabbath are afraid of us blowing them offstage. I’d feel the same in their position”: Lemmy, Ozzy and the story of legendary 80s rock festival the Heavy Metal Holocaust

During the early 1980s, Mot?rhead headlined several UK festivals that have since deservedly gone on to attain quasi?mythical status. These included the infamous Heavy Metal Barn Dance at Stafford Bingley Hall in July 1980 (also featuring Saxon, Girlschool and others), their Heavy Metal Goes To The Dogs bash at Hackney Stadium, and an open-air shebang at Wrexham FC that also served as the UK debut of Twisted Sister, the latter pair of 1982 gigs featuring Brian Robertson on guitar.

Sandwiched in between was the mutha of them all – the near-legendary Heavy Metal Holocaust, which featured the line-up of bassist/vocalist Lemmy, guitarist Fast Eddie Clarke and drummer Philthy Animal Taylor. It took place at Vale Park, the dilapidated home of Port Vale FC on 1 August, 1981. This might’ve been a ridiculous choice of venue had Kilmister not been born just a few streets away. It saw the ’Head performing with their famous Bomber lighting rig flying overhead, powered by what has since been called ‘the biggest PA system ever used in Britain’.

The bill was to have been topped by the Ronnie James Dio-fronted Black Sabbath, with Mot?rhead appearing as special guests, though an 11th-hour cancellation saw Lemmy and company promoted to headliners, with Ozzy Osbourne’s Blizzard Of Ozz added to the roster.

Though the latter represented a welcome if slightly ironic bonus, Sabbath’s non-appearance ruffled a few feathers. Talking during his band’s first American tour (supporting Ozzy), Lemmy offered an explanation of his own, telling Record Mirror: “Well, look at it… we have an album that went straight to No.1 [No Sleep ’Til Hammersmith] and all they have left is a name. Obviously, they’re afraid of us blowing them offstage – I’d feel the same in their position.”

John Curd of the event’s promoters Straight Music was equally irate. “They originally approached me to do the show,” he seethed. “The next time Black Sabbath appear in England, it will be in court.”

Straight Music also had another problem. A group of irate elderly locals took out an injunction, attempting to get the Holocaust banned on noise pollution grounds. Curd had a magnificent idea, offering them all a free day trip to Blackpool should all objections be rescinded. Amazingly, it worked.

Something the promoter could do nothing about was the weather. Though it sounds churlish, on the day itself it was just too sunny. Intense heat baked a kiln-like Vale Park until early evening. Throw in the fact that no alcohol was on sale – if you braved the queues to buy them for 30p apiece, refreshment came in the form of small bottles of fizzy pop – and the fact that the PA, for all its unremitting, bulldozing power, produced a muddy sound that bounced around the stands of the football ground, and you’ve every right to wonder why the show is regarded with such fondness.

The answer is the music. Recently reunited after almost three decades away, Wakefield trio Vardis got things underway with a turbo-charged display of boogie-metal. Then, despite basing their set upon a new album (Fire Down Under) that was still unreleased in this country, New York-based hard-rockers Riot used the likes of Overdrive, Altar Of The King and Rock City to quell heat-inspired lethargy.

As the makeshift arena began to fill – it’s estimated that 40,000 fans had paid ￡7.50 each to be present, though at times the place looked alarmingly empty – Frank Marino & Mahogany Rush stepped up to deliver the Holocaust’s first clear success with a set that took in the highlights of the group’s Live album, released some four years earlier, including the feedback-strewn instrumental centrepiece Electric Reflections Of War.

A late-afternoon display from Triumph was where everything went tits-up. In addition to being the day’s most melodic protagonists, the Canucks were mugged by a PA system that began cutting out, the scorching overhead sun and, of course, the lack of alcohol. Even the backstage area was dry unless you had a pass for one of the dressing rooms. As Triumph died a death, a rain of plastic pop bottles flew from one side of Vale Park to the other.

The deafening volume didn’t help either. Everybody’s ears rang for days afterwards, and an employee in the Samaritans’ so-called ‘quiet’ tent later moaned of being “forced to deal mainly with written messages” in an atmosphere that “wasn’t very conducive for counselling”.

With https://www.loudersound.com/features/top-10-best-randy-rhoads-guitar-solos on guitar and introducing a new, more MTV-friendly rhythm section of bassist Rudy Sarzo and drummer Tommy Aldridge, Ozzy played songs from both of his first two solo records. It speaks volumes for the quality of said material that some voiced disappointment that his set closed with the Sabbath classics Iron Man, Children Of The Grave and the evergreen Paranoid. Just seven months later, Rhoads would be dead. What a senseless tragedy…

Mot?rhead, wary of being upstaged, had planned some surprises for their set – few of which worked. It’s always been the Mot?rhead way.

Thanks to the success of No Sleep… the band were on the crest of a wave. As Over The Top and The Hammer rattled the fillings in our teeth, Lemmy grinned: “Is it loud enough?” The crowd roared back, pantomime-like: “Nooooooooo!”

“135,000 decibels and you want me to turn it up?” beamed the bassist with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Alright then!”

A plane was supposed to fly over the ground and drop bombs. Though it did circle overhead, its deposits failed to materialise. “Oh well, another stunt gone wrong,” Lemmy barked. Just as he did so, four bombs made contact with the stage.

“Watch out for parachutists on this one,” Kilmister warned as six daredevils plummeted earthwards, their canopies bearing unreadable Mot?rhead-related messages. One of them missed the stadium completely – hilarious!

And on that note, my school-friend Dave Gray and I returned to Stoke station to kip down overnight on the concourse, having fibbed of staying at one another’s houses to our respective sets of parents. Ah, cherished memories…