"When I first this record I thought, ""What's wrong with the singer's voice?"" The second time I heard it I thought, ""Fuck, that guy looks like he's a savage killer!"" By the third time I'd heard it and seen the video, I thought, ""I like these guys…"" You need the right amount of exposure to these kinds of possibilities. People have certain prejudices against certain bands based on how they look but unless you're open-minded, you never know what you're missing out on. On top of the actual music, Motörhead embodied a lifestyle too. If you looked at Phil 'Philthy Animal' Taylor, may his soul rest in peace, he looked like a punk. He was the embodiment of cool. The only other guy who ever had that for me was when Chris Cornell had long hair! You just thought, ""That guy has got it going on."" Looking at Lemmy, who looked like a badass biker, and then Fast Eddie's darkness, Motörhead was all so cool. People ask me so often to comment on Lemmy's death and I always try to switch it to a comment on his life. How about we celebrate his existence? I saw a picture of him the other day and I found myself just staring and missing him a lot. Lemmy never hurt anyone or anything as far as I know. He never had to back up that dangerous attitude with anything else, like some of the things you're seeing on the internet just now with people shouting offensive things from the stage. That's an interesting breed of frontman and Lemmy was never like that. He knew who he was. It's hard when you can't understand when someone you know is gone. They're here, then they're gone and it's final. One of the most important lessons in that is to love people that are important to you and just be nice to people. You never know how long they'll be around."

"I was about fifteen-years-old and I had just started playing drums and somebody played this album in its entirety on the radio. My Dad had a garden centre at the time and I used to sit in the pickup truck listening to the radio – you know, in its own bizarre way [at that age], you just want to be on your own. So I remember being in that van and the radio DJ saying something about AC/DC and they put it on – I was nailed to my seat. And I'm a drummer, I've always liked rock bands and I've got a mid-life crisis band with some friends – we're called The Luddites. We just play three-piece punk or rock. We murder some of the classics for charity – that's how we get away with it. We go from Sex Pistols to Clash to Foo Fighters to Kings of Leon and so on. Really anthemic songs! Those last two bands have got an odd place in a lot of people's music world – certainly that very guitar heavy rock sound of the Foo Fighters – you would be shocked at some of the people who are into this heavy rock sound. Certain people – a mom with three kids for example – are really into this music! But it's all melodically very strong. Where were we? Oh yes, AC/DC. I made a cassette of this album. I used to drum to this album. Phil Rudd was a monster on the drums. He doesn't do anything – he's the rock Ringo. Whatever he's done needs to be done. People take the piss out of Ringo but everything he did was where it should be. How did I change from being a drummer to a singer? I borrowed a guitar from a guy in the band and fumbled through a few chords and tried to write songs and I became the singer because of that."

"We used to do loads of gigs in Western Europe during the punk days because nobody really wanted us in London. But we were getting invites to go to Belgium and West Germany and Berlin. We went on the Trans Europe Express to go to Berlin once and this was the perfect record to listen to doing that. The way they sing and the whole Man Machine idea – they totally pulled it off. They were so ahead of the game. And when you listen to very early Human League – 'Being Boiled' and all that – you can hear the influence it had on them. I was never really interested in that synth sound for the Ants. I was more into their graphics. I used to design handbills and A4s and there was a couple of robotic themes on that. Musically that was being catered for by the Human League, who I thought were great right at the start. It was the mystery that surrounded Kraftwerk that I was into. We were in Dusseldorf once and we went looking for the Kling Klang studio, but we couldn't find it. Apparently it was just an office anyway. I loved that phonetically pronounced European vocal. It was almost like he read it off of one of those machines that tell you how to pronounce things. But it always had a really human feel. I think people often overlook their sense of humour. When we were in Australia in '81, they were touring too. And we were stood outside our hotel and they were all there – I seem to remember they were wearing white coats and they were all going cycling together. There was a real personality behind them. Kraftwerk were trying to break away from that whole post-war vibe in Germany and Dusseldorf was quite a modern city. Visiting the places where the music came from has made the records even more precious to me because it reminds me of the time."

"Now to get as far away from punk as you can get… Wynton Marsalis is a trumpet player, and Kathleen Battle is a soprano. “There’s a really good video of them performing this song and it kind of tells you everything you need to know about them as people. The combined ego of these two people is insane, you can see it on their faces. Again, it goes back to the idea that you don’t need to feel like you like the people singing to like the song, you can get positive emotions from egotistical people. “This song was played to me by Rachel from Cat’s Eyes. I got into classical music through her and it took me ages to a find soprano that I actually liked. I find listening to sopranos difficult sometimes, sometimes it feels so intrusive with that theatrical, over the top warble. But when the tone is pure I love it and Kathleen Battle is one of those sopranos. “The song is a baroque piece, but I find it quite hard to categorise. It’s so visual and so evocative; it’s almost psychedelic, because their music affects your perception of things. And it puts so many opulent and indulgent pictures in my head while I’m listening to it. Of all the soprano pieces and classical pieces that Rachel played me, this one is my favourite. I listen to it all the time, it’s probably one of my most listened to songs. “These two performers are so completely dedicated to their craft. They’ve been doing this their whole life and they’ve reached a level of control that most people will never get near. That’s why I love watching the video of it so much, despite their monumental egos you can’t help but admire and be inspired by the performance. The level of dedication and the level of musicality is unreal"

"Bowie was so important when we were growing up in terms of the way he chose different directions and that that was an acceptable thing to be doing. You'd just be getting into one thing and then he'd turn into the Thin White Duke or something and he'd invite you to twist your head around that. And when Low came out it was like, ""Whoah!"" because it was a complete head twister in terms of how the record sounded, and how Bowie removed himself from the music because there's hardly any upfront Bowie on it. I've always liked instrumental stuff – things like The Shadows and The Tornados' 'Telstar' and those kinds of things – and it's reflected in the music of 808 State, which draws from that kind of thing where melody is the central thing. But the instrumentals on Low almost sound like backing tracks and that's quite confusing. And it was beatless, and that took you to another place. Plus, it was also the record when I first fell in love. There's that theory of your first love record, where it soundtracks your summer and Low is that record. That kind of music and that hormonal rush creates a kind of nostalgia that's deeper than other records. The fact that Brian Eno is on it, when I first started making music, gave me a bit of elbow-room. With the musicians around now, there's a lot of technique, but technique isn't the key to everything. This idea of being a non-musician and using noise as your instrument defined me quite early on; the School of Eno was in me! Even though it was recorded in 1976 and released in 1977, in some ways this is the first post-punk record. This certainly coalesces with PiL's first album, and it they both gave rise to the notion that not everything proggy should be thrown out with the bathwater."