" The ten-year, ten-album career of Felt divides neatly in halves: with rococo lead guitarist Maurice Deebank and without. This is his last album with the band, and the first with equally hyperactive organist Martin Duffy (probably not a coincidence). The effect is like Yes if Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman just kept soloing, under and over the vocals and each other. And, the album is produced by Cocteau Twin Robin Guthrie, who flanges almost everything, hard, almost all the time. The centerpiece is the inscrutable and euphoric 'Primitive Painters'; on it there are two lead vocals (generally undecipherable), an ever-soloing guitarist, a usually soloing organist, all swimming in flangers, and then the bassist starts soloing too, and it's probably the best pop single of the 80s."

"I just love that record. I love the early Stranglers. The bass always sounds so good. It just drives everything. It's almost the lead instrument. The Stranglers were such a weird band. They've got this sort of Rick Wakeman-esque classical keyboard going all over the place but sometimes, like on Black And White, it's more synthesiser stuff which is cool. It's got my favourite Stranglers songs on it culminating in the last song 'Enough Time'. I think that's just a brutal and great song. I love 'The Tank', 'Toiler On The Sea', 'Do You Wanna', 'Sweden (All Quiet On The Eastern Front)', 'Outside Tokyo' the whole thing about the watches with a strap to sell is really funny. 'Nice 'N' Sleazy' has a really great groove. The bad pun bugs me a little bit but it's still pretty great. Rattus Norvegicus was a great record too, but No More Heroes, of the first three albums, seems the weakest. Or maybe it's the one I haven't listened to as much. Black and White just feels more brutal than the first two records."

"I don’t mean this in a derogatory way, but Graham Oliver and Steve Dawson of Saxon were into the bluesy bands - simple but with a lot of groove. But me and Paul Quinn were into more muso bands like Genesis and King Crimson. That was the type of stuff we played, with more jamming and improvisation. As a bass player and singer, my goal was to play like Chris Squire. I used to try and learn the songs – it took me about six months to learn ‘Roundabout’. I‘ve talked to Rick Wakeman about Yes, and he said Jon Anderson would structure melodies like I do it. They would sit in a room and arrange things around the vocals, and we do that because it gives me more freedom to write. I could listen to this all day. NWOBHM bands liked Yes because the musicianship was great - it moves away from blues feel to a jazz feel. A lot of these guys were university trained, but we learned from listening to music. We knew nothing about music theory or scales, but prog rock really made you better as musicians when you learned to play it. It seemed unattainable because it was so good."

"I felt bad about including compilations or greatest hits but if I'm honest, there the ones I go to. And I could say that about Elton John – sometimes you just want to hear the really big hits. Certain albums do stick with you forever but I'm a bit more attuned to the big, big singles. Maybe it's the way I grew up but also it's the initiation I had into my own hits. Even though I'm the youngest of four and grew up around a lot of prog rock albums – in fact, I know Yes off by heart. When Rick Wakeman played Hampton Court Palace a few years ago, he said I'm gonna do the whole of The Six Wives of Henry VIII, I bought a dozen tickets immediately! Because I knew my brother, sisters, partners would all want to go. It was bonkers and amazing. I could have gone full prog rock to be honest [with this baker's dozen selection]! Sorry – what were we talking about? Ah yes, Al Green! My sister and brothers were my entry point for music. I would have listened to quite a bit of Bowie when I was a kid and remember being quite a bit frightened by him – I couldn't work this guy out. One minute he looks like an alien and he just looked a bit odd and also some of the songs were odd – I didn't know what he was on about at all. When someone changed his whole persona the whole time at the same time I'm beginning to look at girls at the same time and then wondering is Bowie a girl? What is he? He confused me! But I definitely got to know a lot of music simply because it was just on in the house. We had one record player – I wanted the Jungle Book album but that wasn't going to happen! There's a track on my album all about having two older brothers and an older sister and it's called 'The Good Old Days' and I mention things like Rick Wakeman and lots of other bands and I also remember my brother John not letting me touch his albums!. My sister took me to see [my first gig which was] Camel when I was ten years old. Weirder than that, I was on tour, thirteen or fourteen years later in Japan and myself and the road crew were in the lounge sharing our first gig experiences. So it goes around and around each person and I'm thinking and shuddering 'they're not gonna believe me, not gonna believe me' until I say it: ""Camel, Manchester Free Trade Hall."" Two of the crew immediately jump up: ""I did the sound at that gig"" says the first! ""I did the projection at that gig!"", says the second! It literally turned something on in me. They had this massive, huge screen behind their gigs – they had this album called Mirage and another one called Snow Goose and you had these images of the pyramids and what have you. As a kid I did not know what was going on, it was another universe. Although to be honest, those projections were probably a bit naïve compared to [what you can experience] today."

"We all lived in a house together and I remember hearing David putting the finishing touches on that one in his bedroom. He wasn't a pianist, but he could change chords and have a rhythmic thing going. The lyrics on that one really got my attention, 'Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow' and all that. But it wasn't really until we got into the studio and got Rick Wakeman in on piano… I mean, David just told him to treat it as a piano piece, like a long solo all the way through. Rick's like a virtuoso so he just went to town on it! Then we had to pull something together to go with that. We had mapped it out a little bit because we already knew there would be a string arrangement that Mick had done on it, so I went through the string arrangement and knew what I could and couldn't do. I knew the ballpark. It still needed to be a solid beat, but kind of a futuristic-meets-classic rock thing because of the strings being so overpowering and Rick's playing was more classical than rock. I think the lyrics were very John Lennon-inspired – 'I am the egg man' sort of thing. There was a concept behind the song, but it wasn't that obvious. It was like painting a picture. He did actually give us a brief description, that it was about a girl who was dissatisfied with life and was always dreaming of another place that's better, but didn't know where it was or how to get there – maybe Mars… maybe Mars is the place? We did it three times in the studio and, when you are recording, you finish and you all stay silent as possible, you don't even sneeze because it will cause problems with the mixing later, but on that third time, the phone rang. We didn't even know there was a phone in the studio! It was one that was used by session musicians to ring out on, but it had never rang before. It rang all over the end of the song. It was a really pleasurable experience listening to it after it had been mixed for the first time. I think this might be my all-time favorite of Bowie's tunes."