"The most detailed and fascinating book about a recording engineer who worked on some of my favorite records. I wish there were more music books as good as this. Even though it seems impossible to know the final two Talk Talk albums and Mark Hollis’ solo album better than by listening to their murky, beautiful, sparse sound worlds, this series of first-hand accounts of the sessions —and those for Nilsson, Bob Marley and others—is incredibly illuminating."

"I think that tune is such a perfectly crafted piece of music. The funny thing is there's two mixes. There's the Jamaican mix, and the Jamaican mix is tough but I do like the other mix too. I got to work with Tony Platt who was like the engineer at a lot of those sessions and he was telling me all sorts of stories. And then what the song was about, when he was living in London and he was hanging around in Soho. It makes so much sense now because when I was really playing this a lot was when I was spending a lot of time in Soho, going to Ronnie Scott's, learning my craft, learning to play drums and jazz, going to clubs, hanging out ‘til 4am. So I felt it, I could picture him being there like ‘Rahtid…’ Everyone's been out on the night bus and seen something and think did that just happen? So I've always had an affinity with that particular track, sonically and content wise. I think people don't often talk about that side of Bob, and they’ve made him out to be this ganja-smoking, peace-loving guy, that’s not really what he's about. He's very political and does a lot of social commentary."

"On the first Strokes tour we had a Libertines demo on the bus. I remember thinking 'Oh man there's already a British version of The Strokes? That's fast, this is only the first tour!' Not that they were, but that was the perception around them. What is so cool about The Libertines is in fact that they're in that tradition of great British bands that really draw on being British to make a very special version of rock. The Sex Pistols are in that tradition, The Clash, all these really cool English bands that make you want to be some sort of geezer and know what a "two bob cunt" is. So being label mates with The Libertines and becoming friend with them they indoctrinated me into this whole British universe: listening to Chas And Dave, that comedian Tony Hancock and all kinds of weird British shit. In a way they became this vital group that almost channeled Lord Byron or Percy Shelley. They were almost a subculture unto themselves. At a time when England is in such a flux, their music reminds everyone why people love what being British is. The way they re-appropriated Albion and Blake's vision of England, it was just really beautiful. Their version of British, for me as a New Yorker, immediately made me want to learn about London and go to all these places. Their first record was a calling for people to learn about the history of England, their music made you want to educate yourself, but it is also so fucking catchy. I covered their song 'What A Waster' while they were in New York. They were recording 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun' at a studio but they were making these endless demo tapes that eventually appeared as the 'Babyshambles Sessions'. My version of their song was recorded while they were doing those. For me they were a band that birthed a new romantic movement in England."

"The thing about Shiny Beast is it features Beefheart having come through a very difficult period. If you look at him, he started off with The Legendary A&M Sessions doing 'Diddy Wah Diddy' and then Safe As Milk with Ry Cooder, which is a great blues album with a bit of pop to it. And then you've got Trout Mask Replica which is one of the wonders of the world, really. I love the myth of it, him locking the musicians up in the house and feeding them hallucinogens but not proper food, of them having to go to the local store to thieve food to keep body and soul together, and Beefheart taking credit for all the music when he couldn't really play and he was surrounded by these musical geniuses - so the myth of it is well deserved. They're all great records but then the Magic Band left him and he got session musicians in and it just got depressing. He wasn't a particularly nice character, he was just hell bent on making records the way he wanted them. For example, there's a story about him firing a crossbow at one of his musicians. That's why Ry Cooder left, he had to dive behind the sofa and then left not long afterwards. [Actually Ry Cooder quit in disgust after Beefheart fell off a ten foot stage at the Mount Tamalpais Festival, landing on the band's manager Bob Krasnow. The singer was on LSD and in a state of shock after seeing a girl in the audience turn into a fish with bubbles coming out of its mouth. It was the original Magic Band drummer Doug Moon who threatened Beefheart with a crossbow, unable to put up with the singer's incessant criticism. Ed] It was Mark Smith who introduced me to Beefheart and it was this album, it was 1977 and I was 16. It was an amazing album and so beautiful. 'Tropical Hot Dog Night' is one of the most beautiful songs you'll ever hear. 'The Floppy Boot Stomp' is so exciting… it just rings like a bell. It has some of the most beautiful and exciting music you'll ever hear and the musicianship is great."