twenty-eight years and a million words
Tonight on the way home... another flat tire. That's three, in case anyone's counting. And I'm sure all of my loyal readers are. Time to take it in to the shop to see what I'm doing wrong.
For a long time I was very bitter that the people who controlled the means of anybody ever hearing my songs were never gonna play them. They only favored music that I specifically and particularly hated, and I wanted them dead. Suddenly, there was another avenue. I started hearing my stuff coming out of bars and then it started to happen little by little -- a movie song here or a TV ad there.
—Iggy Pop