Get a feedback loop and listen to it. … When people give you feedback, cherish it and use it.

It’s quite an obsession to me to communicate at this moment, at this time, with my audience. I don’t only play for them, it’s something I want to give back to them. I feel how each listener in the audience is listening to me, and I feel its warmness, for example, and I give it back to the complete audience. I feel the intensity of hearing, of listening. This is like electricity, and this I give back to the audience. It’s very stimulating.

How do I produce the effects which I obtain from the piano? … In answer I would say I produce them by listening, criticizing, judging—working over the point, until I get it as I want it. Then I can reproduce it at will, if I want to make just the same effect; but sometimes I want to change and try another.

JUST CALLING IT “FEEDBACK” DOESN’T MEAN THAT IT HAS ACTUALLY FED BACK To speak precisely: IT HASN’T FED BACK UNTIL THE SYSTEM CHANGES COURSE Up to that point, it’s merely Sensory Input.

You know, I'm just gonna take your microphone, and stick in the microwave, and turn it on.*

When played at the right sound level, which is quite high and exciting, the tones in this music will cause your ears to act as neurophonic instruments that emit sounds that will seem to be issuing directly from your head.

I like sex. I've had feedback but men will feed you back anything, won't they?

Jack the sound barrier. Bring the noise.

The more open you are to feedback, the more feedback you will get ... and the faster you will grow.
Signaling you are open to feedback is the first key step

Can we start the show?” I smiled into the mic and adjusted the headphones on my ears, slid a knob on the mixing desk down, and switched to a soft neo-soul instrumental, turning it down low.

What I would do was use the bridge pickup with all of the bass turned up, so the sound was very thick and on the edge of distortion. I also always used amps that would overload. I would have the amp on full, with the volume on the guitar also turned up full, so everything was on full volume and overloading. I would hit a note, hold it, and give it some vibrato with my fingers, until it sustained, and then the distortion would turn into feedback. It was all of these things, plus the distortion, that created what I suppose you could call my sound.

In 1946, a Macy Foundation interdisciplinary conference was organized to use the model provided by "feedback systems," honorifically referred to in earlier conferences as "teleological mechanisms," and later as "cybernetics," with the expectation that this model would provide a group of sciences with useful mathematical tools and, simultaneously, would serve as a form of cross-disciplinary communication. Out of the deliberations of this group came a whole series of fruitful developments of a very high order. Kurt Lewin (who died in 1947) took away from the first meeting the term "feedback". He suggested ways in which group processes, which he and his students were studying in a highly disciplined, rigorous way, could be improved by a "feedback process," as when, for example, a group was periodically given a report on the success or failure of its particular operations.

Computers focus you in on all the wrong things. You start to worry about minute pitching differences. When the band first started, they never knew about concert pitch... or tuning. No one had a tuner, it was okay, that's an E because it's the bottom string. We recorded Superstition with Stephen Hague because it was a perverse idea, he'd worked with New Order, the Pet Shop Boys... we should have been warned. Stephen's a computer fiend, and when you're working with computers, there's no need to stop. You can constantly readjust, rejig, you can move notes left and right. But somehow, computers don' t seem to belong in the recording studio and, if they are, they should be in the back somewhere. They should help you tap your creative energy, not be the creative energy. It certainly didn't work with us.

I think the way that you develop your own sound is you go through a process by which you imitate people sometimes very closely. With me, I would mimic people to the note. And then I think you form a collage of all these different players that you imitate, that you learn, and you form your own recipe. I think anybody that has an originality to them, it came from a pool of taking stuff from their predecessors.