"This was the basis for the baseline in Sleaford Mods, fucking great stuff. Stuff like 'The Lurch'. They did a cover of the Gun Club's 'Sex Beat', that's great. Most of Weatherall's work is bass heavy, it's solo stuff. Wrong Meeting, the album that came after this, that's bass-led. There's a rockabilly feel to it. But with From The Double Gone Chapel it's 80s synths, bass, car alarms. The inner sleeve, which is just a coffee stain and a packet of Marlboro Lights next to it, that really influenced me. Same with Mike Skinner's sleeve where he's just sat in his flat with a pint, it's just fucking brilliant. That's how it is, he's not pretending to be anything. Those things merge, all of it is a big melting pot. I think I've hit it good with the albums that I have chosen for you as far as my contribution to Sleaford Mods. I mean, Andrew, whatever he makes, I go with. Initially, when we started doing Wank, the album before Austerity Dogs, I would have said to Andrew that I want a big heavy bass and I want a dusty Wu Tang thing. He took that on board and made it his own, then he would bring these slices of music to me and I thought the sound wasn't something I'd really go for, but it was quite good. I don't tell him anything any more, he just gets on with it. This the band I've been trying so hard to get into. I think we've been very lucky, regardless of the hard work and the shit me and Andrew went through, it was luck as well. I feel quite grateful that it happened to us."

"I was only ten when it came out, but I knew there and then that this was the best music ever, that album. Obviously, child of the seventies, I had grown up on quite luridly sentimental and cheesy music [laughs]! Because you didn't really see punk on the television or hear it on the radio, I never really noticed it, but I did hear how it affected pop music, which is new wave, synth-pop, Elvis Costello and Blondie and stuff like that. In amongst all that, you had Gary Numan and The Human League. It was a breath of fresh air, definitely. I can see myself in my dressing gown watching Top Of The Pops. Obviously, 'Don't You Want Me', which they casually put at the end of the record, is one of the ultimate pop hits of that era and it seemed to be number one for just ages, which was fine by me, because I loved the video as well. Also one of my favourite records, I couldn't put it in this list because it's just a single, is 'Pop Music' by M, which kind of sums up that era for me completely. That's a great record, but he never made a decent album! Dare is, of all the albums on the list, it's probably the most complete - there's not a bad tune on it. They're just at the absolute pinnacle of their powers. It's not just about great pop music, because they were quite experimental still. It's not so much crazy experimental sounds, but it's really, really hard-edged and it doesn't let you off the hook. Nothing has really got a lot of reverb or delay on it, it's very, very clean. Some of the sounds go right through your head, piercing."

"I didn't know much about Sly and I'd only heard the two hits that he'd had, which were 'Everyday People', which I loved because of that bass line which goes all the way through without changing once, and 'Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)', and I loved them but I didn't think that much of them. Then one evening in 1971 I was round the house of this bunch of London musos who I'd kind of fallen in with and they were all sort of jazz-influenced people. They used to smoke a lot of grass. I didn't, but the room was full of enough stuff to probably affect me. They were all talking about this album and how it set the scene for something totally new, and I was interested because they were the very serious people who were into Coltrane and Charlie Parker, yet this was a pop record. It's so sketchy, the whole thing, it hardly holds together. It's like little flicks of paint. Instead of an organised composition, it's just people throwing in these little touches and somehow it coheres. It's like the first time I saw a Jackson Pollock or something. Another interesting thing about this is I had just started experimenting with rhythm boxes, which were considered completely beyond the pale by most musicians. They had like six rhythms on: bossa nova, Latin, rock & roll... something like that, and they had these terrible sounds [mimics rhythm box] but I really liked them and I was starting to write things over them, and everyone was asking me, ""Well, you'll replace that, won't you?"" and I said, ""Actually, I don't think I will."" Then I heard this (first track, 'In Time'), where one is playing alongside Andy Newmark, one of the great drummers of all time. But there's nothing really holding it together except the rhythm box."

"It’s early 70s, with the Master Musicians of Joujouka. That’s partly why I chose it, because they’re on a couple of tracks. That record is one of the earliest jazz records I found myself listening to a lot. Somebody handed it to me and I was really impressed by it. I didn’t know anything about these Joujouka guys at that point except for the fact that their name always came up in relationship to the Rolling Stones and Brian Jones. At that point I don’t think I’d even heard of that Pipes of Pan At Jajouka record that Brian Jones recorded but I started to get really interested into Dancing In Your Head. Ornette went to Morocco with this music critic named Robert Palmer. Palmer was a really important music writer and I’d read some of his stuff, so when I saw his name on the back of that record I was even further intrigued. It was a kind of an early avenue into free jazz for me, because this record led me to Miles and to Coltrane and to Thelonious Monk and Albert Ayler and all this other stuff. I think probably at the same time I was also listening to African “world music” as they called it later, and a lot of Gamelan was really important to me. I was looking for world music that I felt I could find stuff in, that could inform my interest in rock & roll and certainly the Gamelan music had a lot of that just because it was metallic and loud and it had these furious beats and Dancing In Your Head did too because it was really drone-y in ways that reminded me of the Velvet Underground and was also really loud. It also tied directly with jazz music because The Master Musicians of Jajouka playing those rhaitas were circular breathing in the way the jazz players were, just going around, you never felt like the music broke for breath. They were just going around in this endless loop, which also tied it in with my interest in tape music and tape loops and things like that. It wasn’t really until I went there and played with these guys in the 90s – we went to the village and spent a couple of days there and kind of played all night long with them – they had a cheap generator and an electric guitar – I could see that it was loud and kind of stomping in a way that related to rock & roll but it also had this circular trance-y thing where you started to lose track of time. Had it been going on for ten minutes or forty minutes or whatever it was? It had a very druggy quality with or without the drugs. There was just something about Ornette Coleman and when I heard this record I felt like I was hearing someone who was a great force. He did all these amazing ground breaking records and it opened up the whole world of jazz for me."