"I want to write a book on the history of miming to music on TV. No, I don't, but I want to read it. I’m often surprised at how early the convention of miming to music on TV was subverted. From Ringo riding an exercise bike instead of drums on ‘I Feel Fine’ to the Faces playing football, it seems to be a wink to the camera that’s way ahead of anything else you would see at the time. The Thompson Twins seemed to be the first band solely designed to extend this joke. As a 12-year-old, I was fascinated by the fact I couldn't hear any of the instruments they were playing. They would stand behind guitars, congas and double basses but all you could hear were Prophet 5s and Emulators. I knew it was done as some kind of statement that I couldn’t fathom. These were artists, like the ones who Tony Hancock meets in The Rebel; proper oddball, hat-wearing pranksters. The backs of all the 12-inch singles from Into The Gap joined together to make a map of an island that was in the shape of the members' heads. The cassette version had an hour of alternative versions and mixes. They were a treasure trove for a geeky obsessed fan; they paid so much attention to detail. I now see their endless mixes and alternate versions of songs as a gateway into dub music; the idea that things could be transformed as much by subtracting things as adding them."

"I just saw Nik Turner on Sunday night. He’s doing good. We have a strange history with him and Hawkwind. In 1971, in COUM Transmissions, we somehow managed to con this benefit concert for a commune that had been busted for drugs that Hawkwind were headlining, and got the second slot on the bill. None of us had ever played anything, except me on drums, and it was the era when everyone was trying to have the biggest drum kit, so we borrowed drum kits from some of the other bands involved. We got a dwarf on guitar who’d never even seen a guitar before. We had someone from Bridlington on a surfboard on a bucket of water as the vocalist, who just told jokes because he was actually a comedian. Cosey was dressed as an English schoolgirl with a starting pistol, firing in the air, and her own whips. Nik Turner and Lemmy and everyone remember Cosey! Then in ‘92 or ‘93, Hawkwind came to tour the West Coast, and Nik called me up and asked if I wanted to play keyboards for Hawkwind. I said “of course!”. We got to San Francisco and Jello Biafra was there and he came running into my dressing room and said, “Gen! I love Hawkwind!” I thought he was kidding, but he was serious and said it was his dream to sing ‘Silver Machine’ with Hawkwind. So we got him to join in on backing vocals on ‘Silver Machine’. He was thrilled."

"That was a really good band for me growing up. Lots of my friends were into really heavy bands like Korn and Limp Bizkit. And I always used to find a lack of melody and musicality to those bands; they seemed all about aggression and there were no tunes to sing, and the lyrics were usually shit as well. And Deftones were really melodic, and that's rare. They would play in such an aggressive way and yet they had this mode that they always wrote in, so their songs always have a certain sadness to them no matter what they were doing. This record has this incredible sadness and extra power you could never get, no matter how loud you play it. The harmony has such a nostalgic wistfulness. The older you get, the more you get into the feeling and the emotion of it, whereas when you're young it's all about the excitement. The album hit the perfect sweet spot for me, where it gave me all the aggression I wanted from Nirvana, but these guys are extra heavy and they have this amazing sadness. I used to play the drums and would play exactly the sort of things Deftones were doing. I also think Chino Moreno's singing style, high and forceful, along with Thom Yorke, is where my voice comes from. I always try to emulate them. Moreno could sing hard but he could sing a melody that was high and above the dirge below, sailing out above the chaos below it"

"I hate saying this, but it did what it said on the sleeve! It was them two and it was a lot of drums. It was one of the first records I would listen to because a lot of jazz drumming is very difficult and complicated, if you listen to somebody like Buddy Rich you can't help but think how does he do that; what is he doing? How do you do that? It's very complex which always scared me off. Kenny Clare and Ronnie Stephenson had that same technical proficiency but they didn't use it the same way. They were much more in the mould of Gene Krupa. The parts that they'd play were very musical. I don't know if they were musical to people who weren't drummers, but to me it all made sense. Some of the stuff they did was almost melodic, like patterns on the toms and breaks, and then just trading off each other, which I thought was pretty cool because it was like hearing two people being inspired. Again that was something that really came in with The Damned, with Brian and me. It was almost like a competition sometimes: he would play something and then I would go okay, if you're going to do that then I'm going to do this. And I think that probably came to us from listening to these drum battles and taking on the mentality of that; feeding on what's going on around you, regardless of what it is."

"I could have chosen I, II, III, IV, Houses Of The Holy or Physical Graffiti. Not totally sure why I chose this one, but it starts with ‘The Song Remains The Same’ and ends with ‘The Ocean’, so it almost doesn’t matter what’s in the middle! With those bookends, it was always going to be a classic. But of course there are things I like in the middle, or else it would be a shit sandwich. Every time I get on guitar I play ‘Over The Hills And Far Away’. I’m not a fan of ‘The Crunge’. ‘Dancing Days’ is like an early version of ‘Kashmir’ and the album’s got some reggae on there. ‘No Quarter’ is a great thing to wake up in the morning to because it sort of builds and builds and builds and then sort of scares you out of bed. And ‘The Ocean’ is what I always play on the drum kit - I think if anything Led Zeppelin is defining what rock drums are supposed to be. And Jimmy is a god – a golden god! And hands down my favourite guitar player of all time. I could just turn off the sound and watch his fingers I’m that obsessed. He never seems to play the same thing twice when you’re looking at live footage. He’s always raucous and doing battle with his guitar, instead of just commanding it. I like to watch people that don’t have amps that do the work for them."

"Leonard Cohen’s records were very well produced and orchestrated; this one is produced by Bob Johnston the same guy that worked with Dylan. I really just love the title of the record because it’s Songs of Love And Hate and that puts it all into perspective and kind of defines Leonard in a way, that the music is about emotion . ‘Avalanches’ is such an amazing song. I always loved that song, but I kind of came back to it after I heard Nick Cave’s version of it, because Cave’s version is so intense and brings out all the intensity of Leonard’s version. Leonard’s version is much more understated but once you hear Nick’s, Leonard’s is equally intense without having the electric guitars and the drums and all that. Cohen’s another person I just constantly go back to for inspiration, especially these days as I’m writing more songs on my own and playing more acoustic guitar and getting deeper and deeper into the acoustic guitar. A lot of the Leonard songs are done not just on an acoustic guitar but a nylon string acoustic guitar – a real folk guitar. I just love his atmosphere. Songs of Love And Hate is full of interesting songs that cover a whole range of emotions that folkies were supposed to cover but the idea of covering songs of hate: love and hate are two sides of the very same coin. It’s hard to break his songs down because they’re so enigmatic. That’s the Cohen album I chose this week, but next week it will be a different one."