"This is Aaron Bruno’s solo proect. I put this on the list because I’ve been listening to it recently. I tend to find an album that is eclectic enough to keep me interested and I listen to it over and over again, obsessing over it… and then I stop. And I just stopped with this! Ha ha! Well, I’ll probably give it a bit of space and then come back to it. I try and listen to new music as much as I can, but that’s probably the first genuinely eclectic new album that I’ve enjoyed in years. The story goes that somebody in Texas played one of the album tracks and it’s caught on and everybody’s playing it now on their radio stations. And it’s become a sort of mega hit. To me there is some stuff on it that sounds like the Pixies and some stuff that sounds like The Beatles, but it’s all slightly electronic and his voice is great. There’s loads of obviously ad-libbed stuff that they’ve kept in and it’s very cool. Rough round the edges in the right way. It’s not guitar heavy, but there is some really great live drumming happening in it. I think he’s a surfing man who’s influenced by hardcore and stuff like that, but some of it’s very poppy. I think it’s just a guy who is not afraid to explore songs and take them where they feel like they should go, rather than worry about what it’s supposed to sound like. It’s the best new album I’ve heard in years."

"We're keen on the White Album because of the way we're making a lot of this music now. I feel like they had a lot of music, and they weren't that worried about the very nuanced production they had delved into with George Martin. It's one of those records that's kind of sloppy, recorded in strange rooms. It has this weirder, drug-damaged vibe about it. For me, I think that The Beatles could not be any greater of a group without a song like 'Revolution 9'. I wouldn't have embraced them as much. Even though I was very young I always thought 'Revolution 9' was just as valid, just as listenable, just as perfect as 'Strawberry Fields Forever', something that has a lot of structure, melody, lyrics. I didn't realise until later how retarded that was. When we started writing songs and learning how to produce records we started to see what a strange, disturbing collage it is. Luckily, that was what I built my world of creating music on: thinking anything that you wanted to do was possible. They'll have these experimental moments, and even Paul McCartney, who's perhaps not as artistically experimental, there's that thing, [sings] "Can you take me back where I came from" [the fragment that follows 'Cry Baby Cry']. [It's] Thirty seconds of him not really having a song. Listening to that when I was young, somehow, is the cornerstone to me remembering that anything's possible - that you don't have to worry about thinking everything through before you do it."

"Around 1983 or '84, pop music stopped doing it for me. It was getting a bit clean. There was still a lot of good stuff, but I think it was The Smiths... I wasn't obsessed with them the way Sice was and a few other people I knew, but listening to them made you want to find something else. Then, when The Jesus And Mary Chain came out that was it. My brother brought their second single home and I wasn't sure at first. It was such a racket. It still is. But it was 'You Trip Me Up' that really did it for me - I was sold. This beautiful marriage of... it's not nice feedback, controlled feedback like you'd get off The Who. It's awful. But the core of what's going on - the song - is so lovely. And they looked fantastic, like The Beatles in Hamburg. They looked like a gang. It just seemed like they were blowing everything away and starting again. I went to listen to the Velvets after I'd heard this, and the Velvets did it... it was either noise or it was a great melody. They never really did the two together, whereas the Mary Chain managed to marry the two. The video is just fantastic. They're walking around somewhere in the Mediterranean, sitting on the beach in full leather gear with their massive guitars. After hearing the Mary Chain, that was all I wanted to listen to - bands who did that. They were a big band. They were in Smash Hits, which is hard to believe."

"‘Wichita Lineman’ was my Mum’s favourite song, she played it all the time. Anytime I hear it now it takes me back to being a kid and reminds me of growing up in Viroqua, Wisconsin. I grew up in a small town and with the sound and production of this song I can visualise the bleak Midwestern cornfields and driving through them. Jimmy Webb wrote it and it’s an iconic, beautiful and incredible song, the lyrics have this bittersweet longing and desire that I think a lot of people can relate to. There’s regret in there, because the protagonist isn’t doing what he wants to do and it’s a perfect pop song in some ways. I was ten years old when my parents first took me to a concert and it was a Glen Campbell show. He was a big TV star with a network television show, it was a big tour and he was incredible. I didn’t know anything about concerts but I remember there were ten thousand people at The Dane County Coliseum, it was a massive show and it was eye-opening. I was probably seven or eight years old when I first heard ‘Wichita Lineman’. My Mum played music in the house all the time and music was part of the background of growing up in our household. She bought Beatles records, The Tijuana Brass, Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, musicals like Oklahoma and West Side Story, Polka and Country records. She played everything and I was exposed to all of it, it was good for me growing up to be exposed to a diverse catalogue of music, I’ve never felt elitist about music."

"The next one is a little-known obscure album called Hunky Dory! I grew up listening to David Bowie's songs in the background. I knew he existed and knew his hits and whatnot. I had the same thing with The Beatles. When I was 17 I saw that my dad had Hunky Dory and I realised that I had never really actually listened properly to David Bowie. I thought of him as a pop star – which he is – but he's obviously a lot more than that. I remember putting it on and listening to it in the lounge and actually thinking it was almost too much – it was a collection of songs that were all so good that it was too much to digest. It absolutely blew my mind at how mercurial he was on one record. He wasn't writing songs just about love, but about all these crazy, bizarre ideas. It contained really weirdly strange anthems that weren't like anything I'd heard. I remember really trying to piece together who David Bowie was in his entirety, as opposed to him just being that guy who dresses up like a woman sometimes and was a pop star, and beginning to understand the gravity of how talented he was. I remember listening to the song 'Andy Warhol' over and over and over again and thinking it was the best song I had ever heard in my life and then trying to learn it on guitar. So, it was the moment of realising, ""Oh my god, David Bowie!"" but there is no real point in me explaining why it is such a good album. It's obvious."