"He used to be with a band called The Zincs and that was interesting in terms of being clever and beautiful and having all the right elements, but this album is beyond interesting and beyond clever and beyond beautiful. There is something that is clicking and being aligned, and all the years of work are finally getting you to this plateau that you've been looking for. I feel that he's got there. Sometimes there's nothing you can do but work hard at something for a long time before you get to where you want it to be, and I have that sense that there he is. This is an album that really talks to the listener in a very direct, open way. And it has all the elements. It is interesting; it is surprising; it is beautiful. It's very well-played, of course it is: James is a terrific guitar player. He introduced me some years ago to Davy Graham, and that was my introduction to folk music. That was where folk music started for me. Tim [Gane] hated folk music, or he always claimed he hated folk music, so there was no folk music at home. But James introduced me to Davy Graham and Shirley Collins, and you can't argue with music like that. It's pure; it's direct; it's transcendental. There are no curves or bends; it's just something that's received in its purest form. At least, that's how I feel it. And the songs are incredibly beautiful. I don't know how to explain what makes a good interesting song for me. It also has to do with the fact that it's not a cliché; it's forever whole, it has its own integrity, its own singularity. I feel like James might say he has nothing to do with this folk music stuff, but of course he does, you know, and certainly Davy Graham is in there. But he's lived in Chicago for many years now and he's worked with other people, including myself, who don't particularly come from a folk background, and it's true that, to honour this record, there are other interjections from other influences. It has to be seen as a whole thing that can't be reduced to just folk music. It is a strong root, but there are also some amazing string arrangements and a lot of surprises. There are connections to the past, but coming out of a spaceship, you know? It's really earthy, but connected to the universe."

"I picked this mainly because most people are probably familiar with the regular three studio records that came out. I would hope they are. This record, Hendrix In The West, is a compilation of live versions. I think four songs are from this San Diego show in 1969 and shortly after that tour Noel Redding was out of the band so it was the last part of the Experience. There's a version of 'Spanish Castle Magic' on the record that is just so incredible, and the bass is distorted and driving. That song alone is worth the whole record. And if you can get your hands on it, there's actually a bootleg of that whole San Diego show and I recommend that, but Hendrix In The West is a little more accessible. My friend Darren who was the drummer in Mr. Epp, we were in high school and he had one of those portable eight-track players. I think he pretty much only had three eight-tracks I can remember, and one was Jimi Hendrix's Smash Hits and another was The Who: Live At Leeds and we would play those constantly. I've always been really impressed by Mitch Mitchell's drumming. It spoke to me. I think he's maybe the best drummer in rock & roll. I just love that kind of loose, fluid feel. It's not stiff, there's sort of a jazz thing going through it. It's really propulsive. Have you ever seen 'Message To Love', the Isle of Wight set that Hendrix plays? It's weird what happened to Mitch Mitchell over the years he was playing with Hendrix. In the early days he's sitting upright and playing like he does on the records but by that almost last performance he's got a double kick drum which he's just slumped over and his back is hunched and he's really low. It's like he isn't playing the beats at all, he's just playing around it. It's like he's become a rock version of Elvin Jones - it's crazy. Rock & roll has taken its toll on a lot of people. There's a bit in the Isle of Wight thing where a couple of songs in, Hendrix just goes behind the speakers and you can hear his guitar hitting shit. And he comes back out and he's on fire. The song ends and he says "I just woke up two minutes ago!" I was like: "Gee, I wonder what he was doing back there?""

"I was only about 13 when I heard it and it was another one that I played a lot in my bedroom. There was a trilogy of females, which was Joni Mitchell's Blue, Kate Bush's Hounds Of Love and Bjork's Debut that I discovered when I was 12 and obviously had a huge impact on me. But Joni Mitchell, for me, her voice is like an instrument, the same as Bjork's - I just loved hearing a woman's voice that sounded so free and was doing weird things to my brain, pulling it around. How do you even talk about something like this? You just end up saying a load of cliches! There's songs like 'River' and 'Blue' and I didn't know anything really as a 13-year-old about California and Laurel Canyon and the psychedelic 60s and what had happened to everybody, the disenchantment they maybe felt later on. I didn't really understand the background of that, yet there was this woman coming out of my speaker, her feminine energy and her freedom, her expression, her unapologetic rawness, again, and the beauty and competence, and weird tunings, it all completely made sense to me. It all sounded like this amazing place that smelt like pine trees and had golden, yellow sunshine and long hair and tapestries and curtains and cats and guitars. I thought: "What is this place that this woman is talking about?" Actually it's just this universe inside of her, she's like this amazing building full of beautiful things, so complex and so deep and intellectual. I just think she's fully competent on so many levels! I was listening to Carole King, Tapestry, at the time, and that's another beautiful record, but Joni Mitchell's is just emotionally more complex. It was meandering and had movements and parts to it and her voice would soar. There's that bit where she's saying, "hell's the hippest way to go, I don't think so but I'm going to take a look around it": there's that onset of disenchantment, where she's sick of this bullshit, and Joni Mitchell's so good at seeing through the bullshit - it's not this throwaway, idealistic, hippy kind of thing, she's always burrowing a little bit under the surface. As a young girl, hearing women talk about travelling, going on an aeroplane, missing California, being in Paris, seeing some guy playing guitar and writing a love note on a napkin to her. It's like good life experience, listening to that through someone else."