Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, no harm; just another false alarm
Tried living in the real world instead of a shell, but I was bored before I even began.
I didn't really see the British punk movement, if that's what it was, as wildly original, because I had been listening so intently to all the New York music since 1973, really.
If you travel to Germany, it's still absolutely Germany. If you travel to Sweden, it still has a Swedish identity.
Once somebody is known, it seems as though anybody anywhere can say anything about them. Whereas if I simply stopped someone in the street and criticised their clothes, their work, their parents, their inner being, I'd be sued and I'd be thrown in prison.
I never imagined I'd be a solo artist. And now I couldn't imagine being part of a group.