I knew Johnny well. He was friends with Wayne County and I had met him in 1977 at Dingwalls with Debbie Harry – a sort of New York old friends reunion. An unforgettable evening. I also remember that in one of those punk package tours that Miles had organized, we had gone across the whole of England together. Every night, Stewart and I were stuck in front of the stage watching that brilliant band that the Heartbreakers were. A lot of noise, of scandals and a lot of rock and roll. Leee Black Childers, one of Wayne’s best friends and also their manager, had work on his hands. Once, at Erics, in Liverpool, the Heartbreakers refused to get on stage; backstage, it was pretty hot. Johnny eventually arrived by himself with his eternal white Gibson Les Paul Junior and did a song on his own. Then he announced: ‘ The Heartbreakers have split up!’. The audience in the room started to boo. And Johnny continued: ‘The Heartbreakers are dead! We are the Junkies!’ And the rest of them, Walter, Jerry and Billy stormed on stage. What a concert!