Former Motörhead drummer Mikkey Dee recently opened up about his legendary 25-year tenure with the pioneering heavy metal institution. The drummer’s historic run with the group officially concluded in 2015 following the death of the band’s iconic founder and frontman, Lemmy Kilmister.
In a new interview with “Meltdown” on Detroit’s WRIF radio station, the Swedish musician reflected on the profound personal loss he has experienced, noting that with the recent passing of guitarist Phil Campbell in March 2026, the entire core lineup he originally joined has now passed away.
“Yeah, it was great. We were such a team, very unique team and family, I have to say. Now all three of [the guys that were in Motörhead when I first joined the band] are gone, Würzel [guitarist Michael Burston], [bassist/vocalist] Lemmy and [guitarist] Phil [Campbell]. It’s unbelievable, when I’m thinking back how much fun we had. And then when Würzel left, I was very sad, and Lemmy [was] too. That was Lemmy‘s best buddy, but he just wasn’t up for it anymore, so that was a big loss. But then again, we recovered and did amazing as a three-piece for most of the time there, and now they’re all gone. It’s f**king weird. Really weird,” he recalled (as transcribed by Blabbermouth).
While Lemmy was universally viewed as the undisputed captain of the band, Mikkey Dee explained that behind closed doors, Motörhead operated as a strict democracy. The drummer detailed how his own business sense often clashed with the frontman’s old-school principles, leading to moments where he and Phil Campbell had to outvote their leader to push the band forward.
“And as frustrating as that was sometimes, because he did not know everything best…”, he continued. “We were a total democracy in this band. We voted him down many times, me and Phil. I was maybe a little bit more involved with the business as well. We all made decisions — that’s not where I’m trying to get at — but I’m actually interested in numbers and the business side of it, and they were just, like, more, ‘Oh, what the hell. You deal with it,’ kind of. And then when it came to making decisions, of course we all sat down and did that. But because I was more involved with the business side, or more interested in it, I knew a lot more about certain things than maybe both of them together. Certain things that I really thought we had to do because it was good for us, and if Lemmy just was in that mood where he didn’t wanna do it, either me and Phil had to vote him down — I mean, two against one, basically, and he didn’t like that, of course — or I had to just give up because he made a point sometimes that, ‘What’s the point, Mikkey?’ And he made me look in a different angle about it. And he was right a lot of times about this, not compromising the band or selling out. And I learned a lot from him there. We were so good together because me and Phil might be a little bit too modern sometimes for Motörhead. And Lemmy was sometime too old-fashioned. So, he’d come with some stuff and, and me and Phil said, ‘Look, we’re not gonna write another Buddy Holly record,’ ’cause he loved rock and roll. And he came to us and said, ‘What the f**k have you guys been writing here? We’re not Rush.’ ‘Yeah, you’re right, Lemmy. Maybe it’s a little too much for Motörhead.’ So we met in the middle, and it was perfect.”
Mikkey went on to emphasize that despite his massive global status, Lemmy actively rejected the traditional rock star ego. He recalled how the frontman fiercely defended him when he first joined the band, shielding him from skeptical fans who questioned his background playing with King Diamond.
“He really didn’t care much about this rock star thing at all,” Dee explained. “Over all these years, and as many [musicians] as I met, he was the least rock star. And that made him so unique. I could see on his face sometimes, that he did enjoy the fact that we were gaining something maybe because of status, if you will. But he was always for the little guy. I mean, he stood up for us all the time because, obviously, a lot of times it was just, ‘Oh, we want Lemmy for this TV thing or interview,’ and he said, ‘No, if the band isn’t here, I ain’t doing it.’ And I remember he stood up for me when I joined the band, finally joined the band, a lot because there was a lot of hardcore Motörhead fans, especially in U.K., they were, like, ‘Who’s this? Who’s this guy? Is he from Poison or Warrant or some hair band?’ And they didn’t know me from King Diamond, obviously, and Lemmy just reamed them a new a**hole, basically. ‘You never seen this f**king guy play?’ And later on, they accepted me immediately. He stood up for me all the time. And the first thing he said is that, ‘In Motörhead, all of us gotta be front persons. It’s not me in the front; it’s all of us.’ So he always pushed us from behind, like, we have to step forward, we have to be front people on stage and equally on each way, and that is very, very unique — trust me — in this world, in this business because the more you can throw the drummer and the bass player offstage, the better singers and guitar players think it is. And I never accepted that. I take my space or I’m not playing with whatever band I played with. I am a front person on my drum kit.”
When asked why that specific lineup managed to survive and thrive for as long as it did, the drummer pointed to the unbreakable personal bond shared between the musicians and their carefully curated crew.
“Well, I would’ve been there now if Lemmy was still alive, if we were still playing. I would never, ever quit a band like Motörhead, because we had it all. We had the music… Oh, let’s start with the friendship and the family. I’m never gonna get that ever again, I don’t think, in that way. And we handpicked people — the whole crew and everyone around us were carefully handpicked over all these years. So each position of whatever people did was handpicked and perfect, fit in perfect with this band. So it was such a pleasure being on tour. And then we had the music, and we had everything. So I would never quit a band like Motörhead,” he concluded.
The definitive era of the band came to a close when Lemmy passed away on December 28, 2015, at the age of 70, shortly after receiving a sudden cancer diagnosis.
Würzel (Michael Burston), who served as a vital member of the group from 1984 to 1995, passed away in 2011 at the age of 61 following a battle with heart disease. During his tenure, he contributed heavily to seven of the band’s studio albums, including defining releases like Orgasmatron, 1916, and March Ör Die.
Most recently, longtime guitarist Phil Campbell passed away in March 2026 at the age of 64.
