Meanwhile after failing the bar twice, I knew some people in New York and moved here in August '71.

From '69 til '76, I never played in public. I would play by myself at home.

I was coerced into taking piano lessons in the early '50s. It was a quite unpleasant experience.

The Stones were nasty and ugly and doing songs I was familiar with.

It was just like Howlin' Wolf. Once you arrive at the point that you understand it, the emotional factor is darker than some of the saddest blues stuff.

By many peoples' standards, my playing is very primitive but by punk standards, I'm a virtuoso.

Reading music is something that's inherently hateful to me. It makes music like mathematics.