"This album has multiple covers and titles; it seems to be barely official. This is Coltrane’s last tour with Davis. He didn't want to go. His career had already started. He is sulky and petulant on these shows. His playing is edging towards the more raucous howl of his later revolutionary period. The night before this show he was booed in Paris; Miles would leave the stage during his solos. In Stockholm, eight minutes into ‘All Blues’, Coltrane does a remarkable thing. He hits a split note, a strangled harmonic that is clearly unintentional. He plays the same mistake a second time, and I would be prepared to venture that this second time was also accidental. Then he plays it a third time, then a fourth and fifth. It could be that he is going for the rule that if you play a mistake, then you should play it again and it becomes a part. You underline it and make it seem intentional. But it’s more than that. Coltrane is fascinated by this tortured phrase. He becomes obsessed with what his saxophone is doing, or rather what it isn't doing. He is going into a trance and circling the five notes again and again, sometimes with the smallest changes, sometimes repeated in different ways, but always this curious, odd, raspy note in the middle. The audience doesn't exist. It is just him and this one phrase. In total, he repeats the line 33 times. I just counted. The band goes with him as well, from initial worry to uncertainty and finally to outrageous confidence. It is both the dumbest and most intelligent piece of music I've ever heard, and I think about it all the time when I'm making records. It speaks about the power of repetition, the beauty of pure experimentation, and what you can get away with if you show confidence."

"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."

"When I first heard Led Zeppelin, I was a kid in kindergarten but my uncle and my mum used to pump Led Zeppelin loudly. I grew up with those mad eight-tracks and all the imagery in their songs hit my imagination hard. It was so hard to pick one record of theirs – I obviously couldn't pick them all but this is the one that came to my mind first and the one I think I heard and played the most. I also loved the album cover for this; I used to look at this record cover for hours and I'd never get bored. I got deeper into this record I think because I was hearing stories that if you played the record backwards, it said something. There were so many folklore stories around this album when I was a kid growing up and it was ripe for the imagination. Next thing when you're listening you'd see the fucking hermit from the tarot cards and you'd hear these stories that Jimmy Page bought Aleister Crowley's house and then next they'd suddenly be going to India and working with all these different musicians. All these wild stories, all the mysticism behind the band is what really sucked me in with Led Zeppelin. When this record came out, there was no internet and you didn't know if the stories were all true or not so they had this great mystery to them. There were a couple of television shows but I'd never seen Led Zeppelin on TV; there were no music videos back then either. Even magazine articles about them were short. There was a great mystery to them and it just left it all open to your imagination to make up its own shit and my imagination is wild. Their stage shows were also ridiculous and they completely revolutionised touring today. So many things they did inspired me, inspired Cypress Hill."