Just as Elvis, Keef, Dylan, Lennon and Bowie represent a certain kind of musical ideal, for many people Motorhead's leading light Lemmy is the epitome of stripped-to-the-bone, all-the-way-up-to-11, no-nonsense rock'n'roll.

Now celebrating 45 years behind the bass -- and those trademark sideburns -- Lemmy has long lived by the battle-cry of "everything louder than everything else". Which just about sums up Motorhead's sound.

Ian Fraser Kilmister was a 15-year old schoolboy in Anglesey, North Wales when he noticed a fellow pupil with a guitar being surrounded by girls. Although he himself couldn't play, the next morning, Lemmy (a nickname said to come from his common refrain, "Lemmy a quid till Friday") grabbed his mum's guitar. He hasn't looked back since.

Achieving a certain amount of fame, and notoriety, early on as a member of Hawkwind, the fact that Lemmy was fired from these celebrated space rockers for, as he says, "doing the wrong kind of drugs" says something about the man himself. He bounced back with a band of his own -- which he decided to call Bastard. Until his manager informed him that Top Of The Pops might have a problem with such a name. Instead, Lemmy took the title of the last song he wrote for Hawkwind -- Motorhead.

Having released their 21st album Motorized last year, Motorhead return to Dublin on November 8 for a night of quiet reflection and soothing relaxation at The Olympia. When I caught up with Lemmy in his LA home, he was in high spirits. As you would expect.

PAUL BYRNE: You've had cameras following you around for the past two years for an upcoming documentary -- I'm guessing you're not all that worried about what people might think of you, though . . .

LEMMY: Yeah, I've never been worried about what people think about me. I've nothing to be ashamed of, and plenty to be proud of. The film should be out early next year. . .

PB: You seem to inspire deep affection and admiration in many people, including The Foo Fighters' Dave Grohl, who said of you, "F**k Elvis and Keith Richards, Lemmy's the king of rock'n'roll". A little too poetic, or absolutely right?

L: Dave's a good guy. He knows me, and I know him -- we've worked together a couple of times, and we get along together really well. We understand rock'n'roll. A lot of people in this business don't; they just think it's a good money scheme, but it isn't. If it was, I'd be retired by now [laughs].

PB: From your first band, The Sundowners, to Motorhead, that's 45 years of rock'n'roll. Did you ever have any doubt? Was there ever a point when you felt like packing it in?

L: Well, we got lucky, because we only got famous the one time. Really, really big, and we only got really, really big in Britain, and in parts of Europe as well. That was all over in about two years really. If we had been really huge in America, I think it would have killed us.

PB: In the 80s, everyone over 25 in music went off the path pretty badly -- were you ever tempted by synths, by Tibetan nose flutes, or an African choir?

L: I know what rock'n'roll sounds like. I heard Little Richard when I was 20 -- maybe even when I was 30, to be honest -- and Little Richard's was the greatest rock'n'roll voice that I had ever heard. Little Richard and The Beatles, Jerry Lee Lewis -- people like that.

PB: I'm blessed to have met Little Richard, and cursed to have met Jerry Lee Lewis...

L: Yeah, there you go. Jerry Lee Lewis in the beginning, people seem to forget, he was like Elvis' rival. He was as big as Elvis was, for a little while there . . .

PB: Now you have that effect on a generation -- a few generations, in fact. That must make you proud. Maybe even big-headed?

L: Yeah, we're getting 15-year-olds at our shows. Everything's good when you're 63. And it makes me think that we must be doing it right if we're still getting young people coming to see us. Having 15-year-olds come to your gigs, that says it all really. You're not just going through the motions, and doing a cabaret act; you're playing the real thing, you know.

PB: According to Live Fast, Die Old, you've slept with 2,000 women; Maxim puts the number at a more modest 1,200. What's your number?

L: I've always said 1,000 -- I don't know why people say 2,000. When you think about it, I've been pulling birds since I was, what, 15? And I'm 63 now, never been married, so, if you work it out at about two chicks every two weeks, that's pretty reasonable, isn't it?

PB: Bands are brands these days, and Motorhead is known around the world. Is that all protected, for those years when you finally step away from the mic and T-shirts and the compilations keep on coming?

L: I never worry about the business side of all this, because it will f**k your music up, you know. The name Motorhead is all very well, but who cares who it belongs to? It doesn't belong to anyone else right now, but I'm sure after I die, it'll belong to all sorts of f**king people, who will go to corporate meetings and say the right thing, point to the right chart. After I'm dead, I don't care.

Motorhead plays Dublin's Olympia on November 8 and Belfast's Ulster Hall on November 9

- Paul Byrne