"It's just a gorgeous record with, again, a big heart in the middle of it. If you were to choose a tune to listen to, I'd listen to 'Lullaby' at the end of the record. Rolf Klausener's mother escaped an abusive childhood in Honduras. Her mother died in childbirth, and as she was brought up, she was abused, and she made an escape which involved crossing a swollen river, where she was rescued from drowning by a complete stranger whose face she never saw. He only found this out because his father died unexpectedly young and he realised he wanted to know more about his dad. He thought he should interview his mother because he didn't remember much about him. Then all this stuff came pouring out. Glory Hope Mountain is kind of a westernisation of his mother's name, Gloria Esperanza Montoya, and on the front sleeve there's a very saucy picture of a young woman. That's his mother. It was sent to me from Bella Union as part of my radio programme for Radio 6 Music. I've read a million promo stickers, as I'm sure you have, and they nearly always say fucking ""eclectic"" right? But the first time I saw this album, I thought this is about something, you know, and I thought it was such a bold step. It transfixed me when I first listened. I loved it so much that I invited The Acorn to tour with us in Europe, and they did. I should have picked an older, uglier band. We got absolutely no attention from women [laughs]. We became really good pals. Just really beautiful people, and an absolutely wonderful record. Just to finish what I was saying about Lullaby, he wrote it from the point of view of his grandma to his infant mother, and the lyrics are astonishing. Casey Mecija provides vocals for it – just such a beautiful voice. But the lyrics are: ""'Cause the sun set down on me You turn your head and slowly start to breathe Like the common bonds on carbon, buried deep I'm the shadow of the long forgotten dream... And the promises I never got to keep Though your toes grow colder as you sleep The blood runs through your heart with every beat… But I, I will wash over you I know your heart is true Little mountain of mine"" It's unbelievable, it is so touching, just beautiful. I challenge anyone with a beating heart not to have it broken with it. The whole album is brilliant."

"When I was about thirteen an older friend of mine made me a tape of DC hardcore. Making tapes is a lost art and I still do it, but you can get USB’s now that look like tapes. He made me a tape because I only knew Minor Threat and they were like a gateway drug for me. “This was the first song on there, it’s from the split record Void did on Dischord Records with The Faith in 1983. It’s funny, when Freddie was talking about what he liked and didn’t like, when you’re that age you’re constantly navigating through the sea of songs you actually really connect with and the ones you think you should like, because they make sense with the identity you’re trying to cultivate for yourself and I was floored by ‘Who Are You?’ “It’s everything that’s great about Punk Rock and everything that’s great about music when you’re a kid, that rage and that anger and also feeling completely misunderstood by everyone in your house, your family, your school or your hometown. I read that Kurt Cobain put this in his top 50 songs of all time and of course that makes sense, it’s a song about being misunderstood and that’s what Nirvana came to represent for another generation. “It’s Punk Rock at its best and like The Stooges song for Freddie, this really taught me that it’s not what you play it’s how you play it, as long as you’re being authentic, and Punk Rock is just authentic rock isn’t it? I was in a punk band and my first shows were in Southampton above a pub for this DIY collective called ‘STE’ - which stood for ‘Southampton, Totton and Eastleigh punk collective.’ Students got in for a quid and under 16’s got in free. It was great, there weren’t many women, but other than that it was a great way to ply your trade. “I’ll play it to you and when you hear the opening you’ll see what I mean. It’s this intro, this riff, it still excites me now, it’s just so brutal and the song’s a minute long. It’s so direct and to me it’s weirdly poppy as well, maybe I’m alone in thinking that, but it was a song that was really easy to connect with. It’s filled with rage and it’s one of those songs that you want to turn up so your parents can hear who you are and see where you are in your life."

"I saw him [The Fall's Mark E. Smith] at Shepherd's Bush last year playing the last album, and only playing new songs. It was absolutely brilliant. I just sat and watched him, he's a genuinely strange person. He doesn't fit into the stereotype of the arts school drop-out, or the working class cliché either. It's a strange place he occupies in between. Just seeing him march around the stage turning the amps down, it sounded absolutely brilliant. You can tell he's got the ability to know how to make things sound amazing in quite a simple way. I could have chosen any Fall album from that period, Wonderful & Frightening World or Bend Sinister or I Am Kurious Oranj, but I chose ...Saving Grace because it has a really personal meaning to me. I grew up with it, and when I was at Sixth Form College I really started listening to the Smiths and The Fall. I had to find out myself about The Fall. I remember reading about them somewhere and going down to the record shop and buying a Fall record blind. Listening back, it's got some nonsense on it, like all his records. It's not some perfect artefact, there's something very instinctive about it. I love the track 'Paintwork'. As soon as I heard the track I assumed it was autobiographical, it's about the way he messes the music up. I can imagine the musicians saying, 'It's Mark, messing up the paintwork', but what they don't get is that that's the beauty of it, that he is messing up the paintwork, and the track in itself is strangely autobiographical because suddenly someone presses a tape recorder in the middle. He was always a huge, huge influence for me, growing up and then in Suede. You can't actually hear it in Suede, but we were massive fans, Justine and I especially, we were obsessed. When Matt, Justine or I were just mucking around we wrote the song 'Implement Yeah!', which was a sort of comedy song about him. Then there was the Fall song 'Glam-Racket', which the NME or someone said was about us. Who knows what anyone's songs are about, let alone Mark E. Smith songs? I think it was a timing thing: it came out in 1993, and people just assumed it was a criticism of Suede. Mark E. Smith's too smart to write a criticism of anyone, apart from people he's been in a band with. A great artist utterly defines their own genre, and that's what Mark E. Smith's done. He's got a patent on that sound."