"It’d have to be a James Bond one, maybe Nobody Does It Better. Actually, forget that, it has to be Live and Let Die by Paul McCartney. Him, Axl Rose, James Bond - between those three it has to be the best movie song of all time!"

"That first McCartney solo record was an eye-opener. I was aware that The Beatles were breaking up and I was aware that McCartney was bringing out a solo record and, song after song it was, you know, decent! The production wasn't like Beatles production, but it was decent enough. The playing wasn't as good as Beatles playing, but it was good enough. Then I found out that he wrote, engineered, produced, played all the background - except Linda would show up here and there - it was a one-man band. I mean everything! Drums, keyboards, everything, then engineered it, then produced it, did it all. Unbelievable! He only had these four machines with these RCA knobs, very primitive equipment. It's a real tour de force. He's not a great guitar player, not a bad guitar player, he plays just good enough to be able to get those parts down. It just comes down to song writing. You've got 'Junk', or ""Maybe I'm amazed by the way you love me all the time"" - that could have been a Beatles song! There's another great story in how he and Lennon would work together and McCartney would bring songs to Lennon and Lennon would pooh-pooh them and one of those songs was a song called 'Woman'. McCartney brought it and Lennon said, 'That's not great'. So then McCartney said: 'Look I'm going to prove it to you, I'll give it to Peter and Gordon and they'll have a number one record.' Lennon purportedly said, 'Yeah, but that's because your name is Paul McCartney.' And McCartney says, 'Okay I'll change the name to Bernard Webb', and, sure enough, he gives it to Peter and Gordon and... number one. He did it again with Badfinger, brought in another song that Lennon purportedly said wasn't good enough, called 'Come And Get It'. I mean, what the fuck is it? Anyway, another number one song."

"I think everyone has a complicated relationship with Michael Jackson, but if you listen back to his stuff it’s insanely unique. Nothing sounds like it, people might have a similar voice, but in terms of the kind of music, it’s very particular. It’s the first record I remember singing along with. I remember having a seven inch of ‘Another Part Of Me’ which had an instrumental on the other side and I realised it was just a karaoke opportunity. It was a huge pop record from when I was young, and very influential in a way; the same way that The Beatles teach you about music, Michael Jackson was like the first pop person I was aware of, and Kylie Minogue in our house was the female equivalent. An insanely successful guy who isn’t a macho guy, but is captivating in some way. Then you’ve got the ‘pinnacle’ of Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson together!"

"It's an overlooked record I think. They were in the midst of breaking up. They were writing separately, and here you can really tell the differences between the Lennon–McCartney and George Harrison songs. What I find really interesting about the record is how it's not really polished. 'Glass Onion' is as unique a song as I've ever heard, and with self-reference: 'I told you about Strawberry Fields', 'the walrus was Paul'; I mean all that stuff! It refers to things the fans were talking about. It's a spectacular album. It doesn't connect like Abbey Road or Let It Be anywhere near as fast because the songs are all over the place. In the days when album covers and packaging meant so much, it was just a brave statement to say it doesn't have a title and leave it white. There is no title anywhere on the record, that's fantastic! Just the solo photos of the band inside. It's a strange record."

"This was the first record of his that I liked. I think it's really aggressive, in a good way, and hard. I always associated with Michael Jackson with all the Thriller stuff, which I didn't really like, but I thought this was a real step out from that safe zone that he'd been in. I'm not a Michael Jackson expert, but this is one of those records that you have to play really really loudly. The production on it is amazing. Apparently we did one of those award ceremonies, what are they called in the UK? The Brits. That's it. I was there with Alison [Moyet, Yazoo vocalist] and he was there and I don't really remember, because I was into not being starstruck, and Alison saw him and she leapt over the security guards and gave Michael Jackson a massive kiss, it was really funny. All the security guys were looking on going, "What the fuck was that?' I think there's a picture of us with all these really famous people like Paul McCartney, all lined up looking like geeks. I guess Dangerous was the closest he got, not to my style of production, but a more synthetic sound."

"I think when we were kids it was all about Sgt. Pepper’s. There were a few albums that my dad had that we played a lot and that was one of them; we didn’t get far beyond that. And then when I eventually started listening to the old, old stuff, I didn’t like it so much. I realise that the innovations that they made composition-wise coloured all of pop music and a lot of rock as well – it coloured all of music really! But I wasn’t into it, not into listening to it. But then I decided to educate myself on The White Album, and I used it for everything: walking, working out etc. And I love it. I actually saw some footage of Paul McCartney doing ‘Helter Skelter’ recently and thought he really nailed it – I think he still does that song really well. I just love The White Album and I prefer it to all the other Beatles stuff. I can’t explain it though. I don’t even especially like any of the songs, it’s just that as a listening experience you can find yourself immersed in it while running on a treadmill as much as you can laying in your bed. It’s really versatile. I love all the Beatles’ stuff and it’s all eclectic, but I think this album is even more so."

"This is pretty amazing. I think this is Geoff Emerick’s first go as engineer. He’d been working there [at Abbey Road studios] but he hadn’t become an engineer yet. When I was working with Paul McCartney on his album, Flaming Pie, Geoff was the engineer as well. He told me what a marvellous thing it was for him because he used this close mic ambience on this album and did some really amazing effects, like on ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’. Backwards stuff and all that and this was pretty advanced stuff in them days. It was more experimental than anything they’d done before. Some of the tunes on there are just great and it was them nearly getting into Sgt Pepper, you know? Probably doing more experimenting and copying tapes and bouncing them across. They hadn’t got the tracks to do it, really, so they had to use two machines and sometime three machines and then mix everything down from four tracks onto one and then start on another and mix that down to another machine. So it was very difficult to make those records, I would imagine. How did it sound back in ’66? Way better than everything else, I would say. It stood out like a sore thumb really. It was so tight and beautiful and punchy. It was the punchiest thing around. It was, like, powerful and, it seemed to me, majestic."

"We're keen on the White Album because of the way we're making a lot of this music now. I feel like they had a lot of music, and they weren't that worried about the very nuanced production they had delved into with George Martin. It's one of those records that's kind of sloppy, recorded in strange rooms. It has this weirder, drug-damaged vibe about it. For me, I think that The Beatles could not be any greater of a group without a song like 'Revolution 9'. I wouldn't have embraced them as much. Even though I was very young I always thought 'Revolution 9' was just as valid, just as listenable, just as perfect as 'Strawberry Fields Forever', something that has a lot of structure, melody, lyrics. I didn't realise until later how retarded that was. When we started writing songs and learning how to produce records we started to see what a strange, disturbing collage it is. Luckily, that was what I built my world of creating music on: thinking anything that you wanted to do was possible. They'll have these experimental moments, and even Paul McCartney, who's perhaps not as artistically experimental, there's that thing, [sings] "Can you take me back where I came from" [the fragment that follows 'Cry Baby Cry']. [It's] Thirty seconds of him not really having a song. Listening to that when I was young, somehow, is the cornerstone to me remembering that anything's possible - that you don't have to worry about thinking everything through before you do it."