"The first song that I think put me in a musical direction was probably Just Like a Woman by Bob Dylan, which I realise is not a very PC song now. I actually just had a think about how unacceptable that song would be in today’s day and age. But I think if you say something like that without any malice or highbrow nature then you could reverse it and say ‘just like a man’ as well. I definitely had a moment with it recently though where I was like, ‘I would not write that song today.’ But it was a revelation at the time: it was just a guy with a guitar and some lyrics and not even a good voice. That kind of hit me and I said, ‘I could do that.’ “This was probably during the late ‘80s and early ‘90s and I was listening to stuff like Guns N’ Roses and Nirvana, but I wasn’t ever able to play like that, and growing up in suburban New Jersey I had no idea what Mr. Brownstone was. I was just pissed because I was in the suburbs and there was nothing to do. I was dealing with this whole lower middle-class frustration thing. Right after that, I heard the first Clash record and I made the connection between the harmonica that Joe Strummer was using with the harmonica that Bob Dylan was using."

"Groundhog Day. I can watch that movie just a million times and never get sick of it. There was a whole spate of movies around that time in the ’80s and ’90s where something magical would happen, and sort of screw over a protagonist in some way, and some of those devices were very corny and kitschy and didn’t work as well. Some of them just worked magnificently, and this one is one of those. It’s just these sort of inexplicable moments where the universe is teaching this one guy a lesson, and they never explain how or why, but you don’t care, because it just kind of makes sense. And the way it unfolds, it’s sort of like it’s one of those things that, I think, if you tasked somebody with writing a story with that premise, where a guy wakes up every day in the same day and he has to relive it over and over again until he learns to be a good person, you’d be sort of overwhelmed, like how can I do that? Then you see this version of it, and you’re like, that’s the perfect way to do it. It’s like, “Oh, it’s so simple.” That’s a brilliant script, when it looks like there was no other way to do it, if that makes any sense. And the performances, everyone from Chris Elliott to Andie MacDowell to Punxsutawney Phil. I mean, they all nail it."

"This is extremely gloomy music, but an absolutely brilliant album. I first heard it in the 80s. It was the kind of thing I always listened to at the end of the day, when you're a bit pissed and in bed and have probably smoked a bit more weed than you should have done. It's such a powerful record. It's got so many different moods in it and it takes you from melancholy to sheer triumph, in a way. The journey along the way, and the performance of Mark Hollis, is so moving, and I think the other musicians on board have great empathy for that and it all fits into place. It really does sound like they were all sat in the studio and said okay, we're all really good at this, let's do something that makes that obvious. And I think it does. I knew Ed Hollis, Mark Hollis's brother, because he came in and produced 'Love Song' for The Damned. And of course we knew him because he was the manager of Eddie & The Hot Rods, so we were already in the loop. But I didn't really bother with Talk Talk until this record came out and someone said have you heard this? And it just immediately resonated. I thought oh, I like this; I want more of it. Now I find I have to be in the right mood to listen to it; reflective, you might say."

"I had that record for a long time and didn't pay much attention to it. I turned Jesse onto it. He's since tried to get it, and it's like $20, but I found it in a bin for like $4, $6. I didn't pay much attention to it, but then once I got deep into him - it's an incredible performance around the same time. The first song on there, 'Healing Song', does that very similar thing where it's just a couple of chords, but on this one they have two bass players. So they have one guy that's just playing the basic chords, the other one's really walking around it in this spiritual way, and the piano player's incredible, and people are even singing along. It sounds like late '80s or early '90s pop, like I think about this Janet Jackson song, it's a prototype for African-American pop, where it's all these songs, like... It's not like, "Ah man, I love me some Janet Jackson" - that stuff just gets embedded just 'cause you hear it on the radio 24/7, [but] you know that song, 'Escapade'? There's a riff in that song that I play on my guitar as a joke, but it's actually the best riff ever, it's sort of like that: this simple hook, but obviously they take it beyond, because they're all such good players. It's just pop that you can't deny mixed with free spiritualism."

"The first one is Working Girl. I love that movie, and I think all the female characters in it are pretty amazing. I love watching Melanie Griffith’s transformation. Her wardrobe and her makeup is amazing, because it’s the ‘80s. It’s unbelievably awful; you can’t even believe that people used to think that was okay to dress that way, or that other people found it attractive. Joan Cusack is amazing in it. Her eye shadow is so blue; it’s horrifying, and you also can’t look away. Sigourney Weaver is a great villain in it, because she also has moments when you, I don’t know, you kind of like her… and then you don’t in the end, of course. But she’s a very interesting, strong character. Even her tone of voice and the way that she’s super sweet to everyone; it’s almost like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada before she did that. You know, kind of the bitch with the huge smile on her face. So I love that movie. If I turn on just the last five minutes, I burst into tears. [laughs] Joan Cusack stands up and is like, “She did it!” and that Carly Simon song comes on, and I just feel strong and inspired, and I always cry. It’s like a happy cry. I’m surprised that it still makes me cry, but I’m always just like, “Yes! This is incredible!”"

"This is a fascinating record and it has such an amazing story. Marc Hollander was Aksak Maboul, they were his crew in the 80s, and he started Crammed Discs in Belgium. He was married (still is) to Veronique Vincent [of the Honeymoon Killers]and they were recording an album in I think about 1983, and then a baby arrived, so that took over. So they left the record practically finished but not quite finished, in the drawer. And then another baby arrived, so that record got even further and deeper into its drawer! It got forgotten. And then some years ago they discovered it, and played it and thought okay, this is good stuff. Obviously Marc had the label, so they mixed it and released it, and there it was: the Ex-Futur Album. My personal connection to this record is that people kept saying oh, it sounds like Stereolab, except they did it ten years before we did! They're sort of our parents, and that's really amazing to me. We've been separated and found again later on; it's a really lovely experience, and it also makes so much sense with the kind of label that Marc is running. It's very open, and they're very open-minded people, accepting the differences, and it's what I find most attractive: the fusion, when you go get some DNA from here and there and over here and then cram it all into a song."