Speed metal legend Lemmy Kilmister is dead at 70. “Everyone thinks that becoming an older guy is easy, but you never consider it fully,” he told Classic Rock magazine earlier this month. “It comes as quite a shock. But the thing is, I don’t want to give in to it.”

It is possible to rock too hard. Doctors at Hannover Medical School in Germany treated a 50-year-old man earlier this year complaining of constant headaches that were only getting worse. He had no history of head injuries or drug problems, but told doctors that he had been headbanging at a Motörhead concert with his son the month before. After scanning his head, doctors found a brain bleed.

Hey, did you have sex in the bathroom of a Motorhead/Megadeth concert in Chicago? Do you have a red mohawk and black pentagram gauges? Congrats, you're a father.

Given his warpaint, dark clothing, and facial expression that captures the angst and existential suffering of humankind, you might assume that this exuberant young man belongs to Homo sapiens juggalo—whose ranks have been gathering in southern Illinois this weekend to drink Faygo and pelt Charlie Sheen with trash.

Where to even start when discussing a documentary about Lemmy Kilmister, the legendary Motorhead frontman and apparent subject of a forthcoming film appropriately enough titled Lemmy? Even the fucking co-directors don't even know, with filmmaker Greg Olliver telling Billboard today: "Shooting Lemmy is like filming dangerous wildlife. He never does what you expect him to do, and he never does anything you want him to do." Olliver's partner, Wes Orshoski, agreed: "Lemmy never ceases to surprise me. ... You think you know who Lemmy is, but you have no idea. If you think you have Lemmy all figured out, trust me. You don't!" Actually... we think we might.