I'm dyslexic, I have attention-deficit disorder, and I've got something like a hereditary tremor.

I didn't really like the taste of booze. I liked the effect it did on me. But I can't say I savored a glass full of Chablis Chablis 1932. I drank whatever s - - was in front of me and got me buzzed.

There are no unachievable goals.

I'm out doing my deal, I'm turning people on. What's wrong with taking people away from their everyday mundane situation and having a good, fun night for an hour and a half at a rock'n'roll scene?

In the early days, you would get skinheads, the Eagles and Black Sabbath playing the same show.

There are no unsavable souls.

Still, one of the few good things about being dyslexic is that when I say I don’t read reviews, I mean I don’t read reviews.