People are still fascinated with that era…There are always gonna be groupies. I remember when I first heard that word. It was, you know, “Wow, someone called me something. I have a term. There’s a term for what I’m doing.” And it quickly became a jeer because it’s a misunderstood concept. The girls are viewed as basically sluts — one-hour stands down on their knees in a bus. They’re just girls, mainly who just want to be near the music. We wanted to be around The Who and The Kinks and The Doors and The Byrds and Love and Buffalo Springfield and Zeppelin. We wanted to be a part of this incredible musical brilliance that was lighting up the world. It’s really all about love, you know. People would say, ‘Why did you want to meet these guys?’ Why not? Why not? Why not want to be a part of something so important?

The first two things I had for the third album were “Immigrant Song” and “Friends,” which wasn’t a bad place to start. “Immigrant Song” had a great driving riff, which spoke for itself. “Friends” on the other hand was more exotic—it had a North African or Indian flavor. I remember I was playing around with this open C tuning [low to high, C A C G C E], but before I had written anything, I had a massive argument with my ex-wife [Charlotte Martin]. I went out on a balcony in my house, and suddenly the whole song spilled out, just like that. Considering the song’s origins, it’s ironic that it ended up being called “Friends.” [laughs]