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- What was it like to record with Fela? 

- Recording with him was fantastic. He had 27 wives. One night, when we were recording that album Music Of Many Colors, we were in the studio listening back to some tracks when about seven or eight of his wives came into the studio. They were all really dressed up. I didn't know until he told me, "You know, they bid for me? Every night I make love to four of my wives, and they come and they bid for me." They were in the studio moving around but never touching him, never saying anything. Just looking at him and kind of like teasing him, telling him in a certain way, "Take me tonight." It was really interesting. He taught all his wives how to sing and how to dance. Fela was a leader in his own right. A true genius! 

(...)

As Jagger related in a 1995 interview with Rolling Stone, Tattoo You was hastily assembled in order for the Stones’ to have product to hawk on its upcoming monster tour of American arenas and stadiums in the fall and early winter of 1981. Jagger and producer Chris Kimsey combed through suitable outtakes—most of which didn’t have lyrics or even melodies—without much input from the rest of the band. “They were just bits, or they were from early takes,” Jagger said. “And then I put them all together in an incredibly cheap fashion. I recorded in this place in Paris in the middle of winter. And then I recorded some of it in a broom cupboard, literally, where we did the vocals.”

This “cheap” album of “bits” went on to become one of the most successful Rolling Stones records ever, selling 4 million copies and topping the Billboard albums chart for nine weeks, going to No. 1 right before the tour launched and staying there for much of its duration.

(…) 

Once upon a time there was one of these hip clubs in Brooklyn. Some in-crowd people were lolling on expensive shabby lounge sofas, some of them were enjoying the retro ambience after a hard day in an advertising agency sipping at their over-priced beers. A local DJ played discreet house and ambient music so that the crowd was not disturbed talking about the latest artsy fartsy hype. At one end of the bar there were two guys who did not really fit in there, a tall, almost haggard 50-year-old wearing a lumberjack shirt which made him look as if he was in a Seattle grunge revival band, and a shorter, chunky Scandinavian in cowboy boots and rolled up jeans. They already had some beers and they were passionately discussing about the music which seemed to bore them to death until the Scandinavian had enough, he obviously needed some raw power: “Play some fucking Stooges!” he yelled at the DJ who gave him a frightened look because there was something in the voice of the man that made it clear that you should better not mess with him. While the DJ and the bartender did not know what to do the two men shoved the DJ away and unplugged his laptop before they entered a rough-and-ready stage. They were up for something. The Scandinavian stud was Mats Gustafsson, he grabbed a baritone sax and fumbled at a set of live electronics, his cohort Thurston Moore (of Sonic Youth fame) belted on an electric guitar. All of a sudden hell breaks loose.

(...)