"A year after the punk gig debacle, when the school banned me from organising outings to gigs, I went to the housemaster about an Iggy Pop gig in Manchester. I explained that Iggy wasn't technically a punk and had been around ten years longer than punk music. I asked him if I could organise a trip to see the show and, very reluctantly, he agreed to me taking five people, as long as I could find a teacher to drive us there. I tried every single teacher in school and everybody turned me down, except the school organist, Mr Parks. God bless him. He had been in a boarding school himself, went to Cambridge and then back to playing classical organ for a choir at another boarding school. He had no experience of life and when he talked to you, he would never look you in the eye. He was a very damaged, sweet human being. And I persuaded the poor fucker to take us to see Iggy Pop at Manchester Apollo. Iggy, fresh out of a psychiatric hospital, who was playing the Lust For Life tour. We knew when we got there that we had to ditch Mr Parks quickly or he would yank us out of the gig. We got the venue and we ditched him. Iggy came on, covered in blood and with a devil's tail between his legs, fucked out of his mind, and throughout the show, his own security would pick him up off the floor and prop him against the mike. He would crawl into the audience and the bouncers were so terrified that they were attacking anyone. I was punched in the face for the first time, aged 16, at a gig by a bouncer who was trying to get away from a blood-covered Iggy Pop. The gig was jaw dropping. It was real, it was primal and Iggy was a force of nature. He looked like the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He looked like Nureyev on bad acid. I am not gay – I wish I was, or at least bisexual – but I fell in love. It was profound and it was beautiful – and Iggy, of course, created punk music. Afterwards, we made our way back to the car, thinking ""we are grounded for fucking life"" and that we might be expelled. We found Mr Parks and for the first time he looked me in the eye and said, ""That was incredible – I have never seen anything like it. Musically, it was very simple, but it was the most exciting thing I have ever seen in my life."" The man wouldn't stop talking all the way back in the car about this revelation. So, Iggy saved my life and probably saved Mr Park's life too. I have met Iggy. I have met James Osterberg, too – which is very different to meeting Iggy Pop – a few times. He is the most articulate, intelligent man. He was reading Dostoyevsky's The Idiot when I first met him. He is witty, gawky and very worthy of my love. I could have chosen a number of his albums, including The Idiot and Lust For Life. I wouldn't choose the more obvious one, Raw Power, because I don't like the production. Fun House is raw, fucked-up and has some astonishing moments and it has primal Iggy all over it. For years, Iggy garnered little respect. As a devotee, seeing him get respect in recent years has been great. I am very happy that the world has recognised him for the artist that he is."

"I saw the New York Dolls support Rod Stewart when he was in The Faces. That was at Wembley Empire Pool. It was the Dolls, the Pink Fairies and the Faces. I was there to see the Faces, and when the Dolls came on you've never seen a room empty so fast. Everybody just headed for the bar. David Johansen had a top hat on and Arthur Kane had some pink patent thigh-length boots and was being propped up at the back. They did a 15-minute version of 'Frankenstein', and that was good enough for me. I hadn't seen anything like it before. I gather Steve Jones was there as well – a few people were there who would go on to form groups. They were these five tough New York kids and dressed like that, it was so provocative, so over the top. They went on The Old Grey Whistle Test and Whisperin' Bob Harris said, ""I want nothing to do with this lot behind me."" I lived in Chelsea in this flat with an American writer and I woke up in the middle of the night once and went in his room and Johnny Thunders was there. He asked me if I had a guitar and showed me a few chords. He was quite a nice bloke. That was when I was first starting out, in '77. He'd been over with the Heartbreakers doing the Anarchy tour with the Pistols. But to wake up and see him sitting there was bizarre. He'd had his hair cut by then. He always looked really smart. I loved the whole look of the New York Dolls. They had a real influence on me. They looked good wearing make-up, but there was no doubt that they were blokes. It was like, ""Come on then, come and do something about it!"" To walk around like that in the 1970s anywhere in America you were risking your life. Tracks like 'Personality Crisis' – I think Malcolm [McLaren] lifted that wholesale for the Pistols, the rhythm section and the guitar sound, the heaviness, the weight of the rock & roll sound they made. That was a big influence on Malcolm. What you saw was what you got with the Dolls. I last saw Johnny Thunders at Dingwalls in Camden. I bought him a brandy. He was sitting there scowling. He was quite a dangerous person. When I was with him once, some girl came up to bug him or say something and he did that thing like in that James Cagney film – he just put his hand on her and pushed her away. He was a real tough nut. A real rotter."