"The amazing thing about this song is that I heard this album after I had seen and heard Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers play it live at Max’s Kansas City, and it was basically the same group doing the same songs. “I think it was 1977 or 1978. I was 15 and I went for an Easter break vacation from high school, it was my first trip by myself; I had an older brother living in New York City and my family was living at Wisconsin at that time. I went and stayed with him and he was into all the punk stuff that was going on. He looked to see what was playing he said ‘Johnny Thunders is great and he’s playing at Max’s Kansas City.’ “It was the most exciting experience I ever had with rock and roll. I think it’s because the music appealed to me, I’d never heard it before, I never heard any recording or anything about this Johnny Thunders, any of the songs or anything. I think it’s also because of the age I was, because being fifteen everything was this great discovery in the world of music for me at that time, particularly with all things of rock and roll. “Punk music was this thing that just hit me; it hit me in a perfect place, and of course there’s a great variety. That live show is riveting and inspiring in every way. With the music, the sound, guitar and then the attitude, the swagger and the craziness of it. Everything was appealing to me. I felt that this is what I wanted to do, and this confirmed it."

"Any Velvets album can be the best Velvets album. Any Velvets album can be the best album by anyone. You can't make a wrong choice. Max’s Kansas City is today's winner because it has the best story. It has multiple stories. It's a play. It's not an album. Layered narratives are fighting for your attention. First, there’s the stories in Lou’s songs: wastrels, vagabonds and dealers. Second, there’s the story of this being the Velvet’s last gig with Lou. He’s tired and listless between the songs; he knows it’s over. “This is a song about, ooh when you've done something so sad, and you wake up the next day, and you remember it. Not to sound grim or anything. Just once in a while, you have one of those days. I seem to have them nearly every day.” There’s the story of the band itself at this point – no Cale, no Nico, no Tucker. They don’t sound like the Velvets anymore. New drummer Billy Yule sounds like he’s never heard Mo Tucker and never intends to. Then there’s this strange story in the foreground. The show is an official bootleg recorded by Brigid Polk who is sitting next to Jim Carroll. They sound like they’re having a terrible night and he is an arse. He makes her get him Pernod from the downstairs bar and talks over the band about songs he doesn’t know. It’s all perfect because nothing is remotely perfect. I go out on this lousy date with Brigid and Jim over and over again."

"I love the sound of ‘I Can’t Explain’. It’s my favourite and I love all those earlier ones. I used do them onstage with a group called The Nightriders and The Idle Race as well. ‘Pictures Of Lily’ and that kind of stuff. I used to love playing all those Who songs. They had something about them, The Who. It was like magic, the sound. And just watching Pete Townshend, he was always amazing. Did I ever catch them back in the day? Yeah! Not half! The loudest bloody thing I’ve ever heard in my life! I went to this place called Midnight City in Birmingham and it was quite a big room and everyone was waiting for them: ""wow! We’re gonna see The Who!"" and they struck up and went BLAAANG! and your earholes would go WOOOOM! and you couldn’t hear a fucking thing! Your hearing was gone! You know when your ears go inside out? And it’s like silence and you can’t hear fuck all for the next 10 minutes until your hearing starts coming back! And gradually you could start hearing them again. It was like a compressor, almost. It was really exciting to hear that when you’re a kid. And the tunes they played were so great. It was beautiful. Fantastic!"