Iggy Pop’s house in the Miami neighbourhood of Little Haiti, a sweet two-bedroom bungalow that would look unassuming were it not for the enormous Rolls-Royce convertible parked outside, has a palm-fringed garden backing on to a river. “The river once went to the sea, but they dammed it up in the Seventies so they could build a racetrack. That’s when the neighbourhood lost its value and became ethnic,” says Pop, born James Osterberg 75 years ago, as he sits topless under a straw cabana, his long hair and black-rimmed glasses completing the look of an elder rock’n’roll gentleman.
“I like places that have the bones of the upper part of the social structure, but are in a f***ed-up period so you can live there without
