Ozzy Opens Up: ‘Lemmy Was the Ultimate Rock Star — And Yeah, It Broke my heart. If someone was to say to me, ‘What’s your depiction of the heavy metal rock star?’ I’d say Lemmy Kilmister. He always said, ‘I’ve lived my life the way I want to. I may have been able to live to eighty if I hadn’t smoked, or drank, but fuk that.’ I bet if he had a fuking chance to come back around for a few more years, he fu*king would…”

In a rare and deeply personal reflection, Ozzy Osbourne has once again paid tribute to the late Lemmy Kilmister—his longtime friend, peer, and the man he says epitomized everything a heavy metal rock star should be. The memory of Lemmy’s death in 2015 still lingers heavily over the rock community, but for Ozzy, it’s more than just a loss—it’s the end of an era that will never return.

“Lemmy, man,” Ozzy begins, voice cracked with both reverence and regret. “That broke my heart.” It’s not often that Ozzy allows the world to see behind the curtain, but when he speaks about Lemmy, there’s no filter. There’s no stage persona. There’s only raw truth. “If someone was to say to me, ‘What’s your depiction of the heavy metal rock star?’ I’d say Lemmy Kilmister.”

And he means it. Lemmy was chaos and charm, rebellion and respect, excess and excellence—all wrapped in leather, sunglasses, and an unmatched growl that defined generations of metal. But he was also human. He was principled, fiercely independent, and unafraid to burn out instead of fading away.

“He always said, ‘I’ve lived my life the way I want to. I may have been able to live to eighty if I hadn’t smoked, or drank Jack Daniel’s, or done speed—but f*** that,’” Ozzy recalls. It’s the kind of quote that sums up Lemmy perfectly: honest, unapologetic, and entirely on his own terms. He knew the cost. He didn’t care. Because for Lemmy, it wasn’t about how long you lived—it was about how hard you lived while you were here.

But Ozzy adds something else—something unexpectedly tender. “Saying that,” he muses, “I bet if he had a fing chance to come back and be around for a few more years, he fing would.” It’s a sentiment that hits hard. For all the bravado and all the devil-may-care attitude, even Lemmy might’ve wished for more time. More riffs. More shows. More stories shared over drinks and distorted amps.

The bond between these two legends was forged in fire—tours, backstage anarchy, shared scars, and mutual respect. Ozzy doesn’t just see Lemmy as a peer; he sees him as the embodiment of a code that’s nearly extinct in today’s music industry. A code where authenticity trumped image, where loyalty mattered, and where the music always came first.

As fans continue to honor Lemmy in tattoos, murals, and tribute shows, Ozzy’s words are a powerful reminder that behind every legend is a very real loss. One that still stings. One that still echoes backstage before every set. Because Lemmy wasn’t just metal—he was the metal god. And even now, years after his passing, his presence is felt like a Marshall amp cranked all the way up—loud, relentless, unforgettable.

He may be gone, but he’ll never be silent.