"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?""

"And then after that I got into Good Old Boys, which is a more refined thing, and at first I was like, no, I like Sail Away better, but Good Old Boys: he'll be singing like a love song, like a song like 'Marie', best love song ever, but then if you listen close, he's like, ""I love you the first time I saw you, and I will always love you Marie"". And then you realise, y'know, ""I don't listen to a word you say, when you're in trouble I just turn away"". You realise it's a love song from an asshole, a Southern asshole basically! There's another song on there, called 'Guilty', and that killed me. You've got to listen to the lyrics on that song. He starts out: ""Yes, baby, I been drinking, and I shouldn't come by I know, but I found myself in trouble, and I had nowhere else to go"", but then the production's amazing, it just kicks in with the drums and he's like: ""Got some whisky from the barman, got some cocaine from a friend"", and then it builds up and builds up, he's talking to his girlfriend. He's obviously a shit and he's shown up drunk at her doorway, and the punchline at the end is: ""You know I just can't stand myself and it takes a whole lot of medicine for me to pretend that I'm somebody else."" It's incredible! He always mocked the singer-songwriter thing, even though he was inspired by it. I say that in his moments like 'Guilty' and 'Marie', he says it better than Bob Dylan or anybody, or even Neil Young; obviously they're still talented at being real, they're both clever, they can put you on psychedelically any time they want and say [their lyrics] mean something or not and give a very cool response - not too cool, they can just answer any way they want, just be immortal. But Randy Newman has the concise moment that hits you in the gut; sometimes, I think, he's nailed it better than Bob Dylan. I totally think it's important to have humour in records. That's my personality anyway, but that's the best thing you can do, really. Because I was sometimes sad or melancholy, but I think the people that just ran that home, like in the grunge era, fucking like Smashing Pumpkins - I liked them when I was a kid - or even Eddie Vedder - no offence on them really, but at the same time they're victims of thinking there was this movement, like in the '70s, that there was this utopian dream that they'd change the world, like Crosby or something. But it's too one-sided after a while. Like fucking darkness in grunge - I don't know, no relief whatsoever? It's bullshit, it's too one-sided, it's not the way life is: life isn't that fucked, but it is. I just think that people, when they get too dramatic, it comes off like a bummer."

"This is when I was at Art School, on foundation, in Winchester. I went early for the term that starts around May, wandered into town and the local record shop was having a sale. There were two records I bought cheap that day: A Wizard, A True Star by Todd Rundgren, and Can't Buy A Thrill by Steely Dan. Those two records I must've listened to a billion times. A Wizard, A True Star is a truly bonkers record. I don't know if someone who didn't know anything about Todd Rundgren could go back and listen to it today and get anything about it. It starts with 'International Feel' with this semi-cosmic synth riff, which goes down through beats into this song with really loud drums on it, and then peters out and suddenly it's the song from The Wizard Of Oz! But that's Rundgren, really. I just sat in my room and listened to it thinking ""this is fantastic!"" Mild hallucinogens may be useful in its appreciation. Mike Barnes, the journalist, is a friend of mine and a few years back we went to see Todd Rundgren play A Wizard, A True Star live in its entirety. And what Mike said about Todd is you just have to go with it, basically. It doesn't make any sense. It goes from the sublime to the ridiculous, and there almost seems to be no taste filter with Todd. There's a book called Todd Rundgren In The Studio, and he's supposed to be this studio wizard but you realise after reading it that he's completely slapdash! He's such a messy producer! He made a huge amount of money out of Bat Out Of Hell, but he got kicked off the project as a producer because they didn't like any of his mixes. But he believed in the project so much he invested in it, and ended up taking a percentage on it and made a fortune from it. That shows that he's someone who is smart but won't necessarily attend to details, and will still maintain goodwill towards a project he's been sacked from. I like that; I admire that."

"I first heard it when I was a little kid. I thought, ""What is this?"", trying to get my head around it. You've got to do a dance as a little kid to figure it out, and with all the most interesting stuff it takes you a while to get it. It's so fucking modern. You could pick a number of songs, but the architecture of those songs, it's like these super-tight rhythm sections and it doesn't really go anywhere. The groove is the thing. Sometimes he goes, ""Take it to the bridge!"" and they change it, but then they go back to the groove. It's not like a traditional song structure. The streamlined simplicity of it, and not being distracted by harmonic development, strikes me as being so revolutionary and modern. It makes me think of painting. Sometimes he's just groaning and yelping, and he's kind of like Jackson Pollock over this very tight structure, this kind of animalistic thing smeared across the song. You can see the connection to the blues, you can see the connection to early jazz, but he takes it somewhere else completely different."