When I was eight or nine, my father took me to see Pharoah Sanders in a little bitty club. I remember it was fun being out at night, but I also remember how powerful the music was, and how I feel I’ve always recognised his very unique sound on his saxophone. It’s like something from the cosmos: raspy, but super-soulful and pure, at times very beautiful, almost sweet, but he also adds lots of details like growls, without it ever sounding harsh. And his skill was beyond any type of technical comprehension. He could play something bluesy and spiritual, then just move into these incredible flurries of notes, like he was suddenly flying through clouds of supernova dust.