It is the morning after Hunter S Thompson’s suicide, and I am reading loaded magazine’s recent interview with Iggy Pop. It begins: ”Iggy Pop! Shit man. I’m alone in a hotel room thinking I’ve overdosed on coke. Sweating. Thinking what the hell am I going to ask Iggy tomorrow afternoon. Two Valium and 14 hours later I am sitting in the lobby of the Chateau Marmont …”