Bass guitar is the engine of the band.
'Rolling Stone,' my first single, was only a hit in Portugal, but when we recorded my second single, 'Can The Can,' I got that hair-on-the-back-of-the-neck feeling, and I knew it would be huge. It topped the charts in the U.K. and Australia in 1973, and I got my first gold disc.
There comes a crossroads in every marriage where you grow together or grow apart. I outgrew Len. He wanted me to be in that leather jumpsuit for the rest of my life and do nothing else. He constrained me. It got to a point where the marriage died or I did.
Age isn't a barrier to playing the bass, and I've definitely improved over the years, although maybe I'm not as flash as I once was. But looking back, I can't imagine a life without a guitar.
My feet never touched the ground. Lots of good groups with crazy and unique images. It was wild. I spent all of my time doing gigs, TV appearances, interviews, or recording. I could write a book - and probably will.
I've got a quick mouth, and I set my boundaries. Nothing ever happened that I couldn't handle. Once when a guy came on stage making rude gestures, I hit him over the head with my guitar.
It sounds corny, but I consider myself an old-fashioned entertainer. I could have been in variety.
Inside, I feel 30ish - I'm childish and optimistic.
I joined an all-girl band in Detroit and, although I was a pianist and drummer, I was asked to play bass because no one else wanted to. When I strapped it on, it fit me as good as my leathers. At the first gig we played, I looked out at the audience and thought, 'This is what I'm going to be doing for the rest of my life.'
Anyone who has had their heart broken learns to keep a little safety area. Even now in my relationship, I have something I can call my own in case something goes wrong. You need a place to retreat to.
I don't really think about male and female; if something's right for me, it's right for me, and it doesn't matter what it is - maybe that's what it took for me, a woman, to break down the doors.