1. Were you a rebellious teenager?
I was. My father was a very moral man who worked in the fraud department. All three of his sons went into rock'n'roll. Classic anti-establishment. Dad put us through an expensive grammar school but I left at 15 and bought my first motorbike with my milk-run money. I'd seen Easy Rider, smoked a bit of pot and thought riding would be the best thing ever. I spent the 70s flatting in London with my brother playing blues gigs. I was getting paid up to 60 a week which was huge and blew it all, had a fantastic time. I did lots of session work for people like Elton John. An hour in the studio for Tight Fit's cover of The Lion Sleeps Tonight put me in good stead. I still get royalties.
2. Did you ever have formal music lessons?
No, I taught myself by playing along to records. My brother studied music so he'd impart bits of knowledge. He is such a blues purist he turned down an offer to join Rod Stewart's band. That would've totally changed his life but he has no regrets. I moved on to other music. I loved early Motown bass players like James Jameson, early soul, early reggae, Steely Dan.
3. When did you join The Pretenders?
I'd met Jim Honeyman-Scott, who ended up being The Pretenders' guitarist. He invited me to join after they sacked their bass player for getting into heroin, which killed him soon after. We were about to record their third album when Jim died from a speedball. It was a real surprise because Jim wasn't a heroin man.
4. How would you describe singer Chrissie Hynde?
Chrissie has balls. She's got real passion and purpose and she'll get in your face. She doesn't take any crap at all. When I first met her she was at the height of her fame, so was incredibly defensive. It took a while before she felt comfortable with me. She's a very thoughtful, deep person. She writes from personal experience and would come into the studio with her songs finished and ready to record. She's incredibly fit and has been a staunch vegetarian all her life, which got her in a lot of trouble when she encouraged people to firebomb McDonald's.
5. Did you introduce Chrissie to Simple Minds frontman Jim Kerr?
I look upon myself as the person who put them together but anybody could have done it really. We were on a flight to a gig in Perth with Talking Heads, the Eurythmics and Simple Minds when I introduced them and 18 months later they got married. Jim's lovely. He calls himself a "Scottish chancer". He's not the world's best singer but he writes neat melodies. He's not the world's best-looking man but he dresses well. He's got a brilliant attitude to life.
6. Why did you leave The Pretenders for Simple Minds?
We were in Rio in 1988 when Robbie McIntosh quit. Johnny Marr picked up the gig and he was okay but not the guitar player Robbie was. I got a call from Simple Minds guitarist Charlie Burchill saying, "I hear you're unhappy". God knows where he heard that. Simple Minds was a huge departure in style for me. Chrissie preferred Vector-sized arenas because you can stay in touch with the audience. Simple Minds were playing to stadiums of 120,000 people five nights a week. It really stretched my parameters and completely changed the way I play.
7. Why did you move to New Zealand in 2000?
My wife Carolyn's a Kiwi, a tall blonde from Te Kuiti. We met at Sweetwaters. She and a bunch of her model friends had been hired to chauffeur the bands to Ngaruawahia in the latest Holdens. We kept in touch while I toured and a year later got engaged in Tokyo. It was pretty wild really.
8. How did she cope during the 12 years you spent touring?
Carolyn's incredibly competent and independent. Both of our kids were born while I was on tour. I'd just done the Jay Leno show when she phoned to say our son had been born. I flew down here, saw him for a couple of days, and then disappeared for a whole year. I had three months with my daughter when she was born. You sort of compartmentalise the family while you're away. It's not easy to adapt to normality after living a life of complete fantasy and there were tensions but it was down to me to change, not them. I'm very proud of my children. My son's now a chef for the SAS and my daughter manages the Spark store in Botany Downs.
9. Were you into the party lifestyle?
Yeah. It was as bad as everyone made it out to be. We all had personal roadies whose brief was to make sure we were kept alive 'til the end of the tour. Cocaine was the drug of choice for almost everyone in the industry.
10. Were you part of biker culture in England?
It was always part of the music industry because that's where the drugs came from. I did ride with a bunch of guys called the Road Rage who tried to be a bit naughty but still had jobs. The bad boy image appealed but the glamour went out of it when a guy got stabbed while we were shifting some Dexedrin from Bristol down to Exeter. I realised I had no interest in being around people who want to kill people over drugs. Gang culture leaves me cold.
11. Are you part of Kiwi biker culture?
I'm a member of HOG, the Harley Owners Group, which is one of the bigger legit groups. Really it's just bank managers with too much money. I've met a few patched bikers.. They aren't long-haired layabouts these days. They're young, fit, kickboxing types who have way too much money and aren't afraid to show it. The Puhoi Tavern is regarded as No Man's Land by bikers and police, so anyone can go without being hassled. New Zealand is probably one of the freest and most beautiful countries to ride in. Before I came here I would never have thought of taking a Harley on a dirt road or the beach.
12. What do you think of the local music industry?
I still play the odd fundraising gig at the Centennial Hall in Puhoi. That was driven by Ewen Gilmour who I met through biking. He was a true character, no bullshit. I also record young musicians in my home studio. I'd like to see a change in the drinking culture where people would go out to enjoy live music as opposed to just getting sloshed. We need more 1500-seat venues that aren't allied to breweries. Alcohol politics is destroying music in this country.