"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."

"When I discovered them, we went to Australia shortly after and I said 'can we get these guys to open for us?' I was quickly told, 'no, they're way bigger than you in Australia. Don't be silly'. We haven't played together. I got to see them once at the Cake Shop in New York. I don't know what it is but this record kind of reminds me of the sort of rawest parts of AC/DC or the most loose parts of Pink Flag. The singer is pretty unhinged. When I saw them play, it was a thing where you could see the singer looking at Mikey, the main guy and guitar player who I think writes all the music. The singer was watching him to find out when he was meant to sing because he didn't really have that straight. It was kind of a thing where Mikey would nod and the singer would start singing. Sort of a go and stop kind of thing. I don't think anyone particular obsessed over the form and lyrics of these songs. Maybe they did but it doesn't sound like they did and there's something great about that. I think they recorded this record in a day. And it's got that vibe. It's loose and it's powerful and punk rock and totally real. "

"I must have played this album a billion times. They're like a combination of some 70s cop movies from America with Animal from The Muppets playing drums. The drums on it are insane. It's just so distorted. I'd never heard drums like that on a record before. It's just that combination of things which should not work and things which not be regarded as being in good taste. The brass section is almost marching music and it's almost an anti-rock record, but you can't help but love it. Our friend Sam Dook plays guitar in the live band and we went to see them last time they played, at the Concorde in Brighton, and we got to meet yer man who was very gracious and really nice. I felt almost apologetic telling him how much I liked their debut album because I get so fed up with people telling me that they think Pink Flag is the best thing since sliced bread. I apologised to him as I said it, you know. Sometimes if you're a known person and you turn up to see someone live it can seem like you're just going along because we're all pals in show business and all that crap. I wanted to show him that I knew the music and I was really a fan. I played that record to death."

"I had to. I mean, how do you pick one? Syd Barrett, brilliant. One thing he did which just knocked me out, at a very early gig - and we thought we’d imagined it because we were stoned but we read about it in a magazine - in those days a lot of the bands would do an hour set, and then maybe the drummer would do a half-hour drum solo while the others went off to do drugs, or they’d all go off and we’d all be sitting around for half an hour because we’d do drugs. And then they’d come back. So, anyway, they went off, and we thought, “Oh no, drum solo, I guess it’s time to do drugs”. And they changed into workman’s outfits and old macs and one by one they all came back. One of them brought some wood, another one had a toolbox, another one had a flask and tea-cups, and the floor of the stage was miked. They made themselves things to sit on, and it was all done rhythmically, creating this piece of musique concrète. They made a table and sets of chairs, then sat down, turned on a transistor radio and drank cups of tea! Then they left and came back on as Pink Floyd! I was thinking, “Did I really just see that?”, and for years thought we’d imagined it. And we didn’t, it really happened."