So one night this tiny American bloke came over to Le Parc to introduce himself. The first thing that came into my mind was: he’s either a chick or gay. He had long, wet-looking hair, and this weirdly deep voice, and he was so thin he was almost not there. He reminded me a little of David Bowie’s guitarist, Mick Ronson. ‘How old are you?’ I asked, as soon as he walked through the door. ‘Twenty-two.’ ‘What’s your name?’ ‘Randy Rhoads.’
