"Thee Headcoats had a really big and important part in mine and Laurie’s sound when we first started. We really loved that rough, dirty, garagey sound and the singer Billy Childish was a massive inspiration to us, he’s a Kent boy as well. “When me and Laurie were starting the band my Dad sat us down and played us a load of records, I remember him getting a stack of records out and this was one of them. This song really shaped our sound early on, we were a two-piece and we’d found this weird set-up, kind of by mistake, where I was going to stand up and drum and Laurie was going to play guitar. My Dad went through his records and picked out two-piece bands and garage punk bands. Quite a lot of it was this sort of stuff, Billy Childish has had quite a few other bands and there was a band called The Husbands as well, there was a lot of them. “It was everything about “I’m Hurting”, the whole sound of it and the vocals. I love that his voice is so British but it’s not a London voice, it’s got a real Kent twang to it and we wanted to sound like that a bit. I really like it when people sing in their own accent, a lot of the time these days’ people are singing in American accents, so it’s really refreshing to hear someone shouting in a Kent, geezer voice. “’I’m Hurting’ was one of the ones that clicked and we just thought ‘this is amazing.’ That was six years ago and I’m very fortunate my old man was obsessively into music his whole life and I had a lot of that put into me. Without him I wouldn’t know a lot of this music that I know about now."

"He's a friend of mine and I'm proud to call him that. They gave us one of our first breaks, around 1990 when we were on tour with those guys for about half a year. When I discovered his music, I think they had already released a couple of records. The first one was in ‘78, and I was in Pennsylvania in ‘79 when Van Halen II came out, but I had never actually heard them, instead I’d heard friends talking about them at school. A couple of my friends had the Van Halen logo written on their folders. I was like: ""What's that?"" ""This band Van Halen man, they're fucking killers, you gotta check 'em out!"" So, my Dad let me join the Columbia records and tapes club. It was a total scam. It was like you send a penny then you could pick out, I don’t know, seven or eight records, but then you were hooked for so many records after that, for way past full price. Some of the records I picked for my penny, were Van Halen I and II. I remember, my dad was watching TV in the living room like we did most nights. We had a pretty decent stereo system. So I put the headphones on, and I put on Van Halen I for the first listen. And from the first fucking note... I remember how magical that was. Same thing as with Hendrix. That's why I cite Eddie and Hendrix, ‘cause I think those guys are like brothers, of different eras. It's completely unique. There's nobody before that guy that sounded like that guy. But there were a ton of guys that sounded like him afterwards, or were trying to emulate him. I tried my tapping technique, but I'm no good at it. That record, for a kid wanting to be a guitarist, that was like an unachievable goal, to be that fucking good and to sound that fucking bad-ass, but it made you wanna try. Years later, when we went on that tour, we became really good friends. He had his new guitar and amps that he had had made. I remember asking if I could buy one, if he could give me a little discount or something like that. He's like: ""Fuck that man, I'll just give it to you!"" and, ""Look man, I got paid. It's the lamest thing in the world: when you got nothing, nobody will give you anything, when you have everything, everybody just gives you everything for free. So let me just give you some shit."" I forgot about that, it was sometime in the middle of the tour... I got home from that tour. I was living with my manager Kelly Curtis and his wife, down in their basement. Kelly greeted me at the door, like: ""Welcome home man! How was the tour?"" “Oh that was good man!"" ""Oh that's cool man! And d'you mind getting your shit out of my garage?"" I'm like: ""What are you talking about?"" He's like:""Eddie Van Halen has put so much gear in my garage, I can't even park my car. Get that fucking shit out of there."" So it was there, two full stacks and two guitars that he had fucking sent me for free. And I still have one of them. The other was stolen by someone years ago and I never saw it again. I still mourn the loss of that. But I saw him [Van Halen] about a month ago in LA before we left. As a matter of fact, I stole his guitar tech, Craig DeFalco [laughs]!"

"One of my Mum’s favourite bands is Bread, who I can’t stand, I just don’t like them at all, but as a redeeming feature their singer David Gates wrote and produced ‘My One and Only Jimmy Boy.’ “One of the main types of records I collect are 60s’ girl groups. It’s far from a group of kids in a parent’s garage starting a band, these are more manufactured studio projects, but they do give me a similar feeling. The expression in these songs have influenced me artistically. That romantic sentiment has always interested me, even in the way of how unrealistic it is. That appeals to me in music. “I’ve always connected to girl groups. When I was about eight years old, I found a cassette called Sounds of the 60s Volume 2 under my parents’ stereo. I heard The Ronettes ‘Be My Baby’ for the first time and I almost felt guilty for liking it because I felt like it was ‘girl music’, but there was something about it that I really loved. That sound, it always has such power to me, it really made me feel strong emotions. There’s something about the naivety and the longing and the emotion expressed that I love. “So I got this cassette and at eight years old, at the end of term, we all had to bring in a song that we liked. I brought ‘Be My Baby’ in and I remember this girl laughing at me and saying ‘Faris has brought in a girls’ song!’ “But I still started collecting girl group music. For a genre that only existed for about seven years, from about 1958 to 1965, there were so many records released and so many weird ones – it was a time in the pop charts of total freedom, expression and experimentation. There’s a clash of the pure, almost sickly sweet melodies with some really weird production ideas thrown in. That’s why I loved it."