"This has some of the really beautiful ambient stuff that he's known for on his earlier records, and I'm a big fan of that, but there's also some really interesting beats on it. I think for someone who's been in the game for as long as he has to still be making music and beats that are unorthodox and matching that with music that's still serene, that makes for a very dynamic record. Of course, we'd love to work with Eno one day. Some of these tracks were rejected from a film score, and I love to put on visuals when I'm making music. I collect old films, from the turn of the century or the 60s or whatever, I'll put one up on a monitor and start writing, to me that's one of the most fun ways of making music. One day I hope to utilise that talent in some way and work on making soundtracks."

"Zappa divides opinion massively. Bottom line is, he's a dick. And you can't escape it. The years as they've gone on have been less kind to him. His later stuff is horrible – misogynistic, very jock-ish. He was famously anti-drugs, would fine band members if they used drugs. He was very showy too. I've got a bunch of his records and I never listen to them… apart from Hot Rats, which I just love. The cover is fantastic and deeply unsettling. The band playing it are insanely talented – Ian Underwood, Shuggie Otis… Beefheart. For me, the album is the first two tracks. 'Willie The Pimp' has one of my favourite guitar solos ever – it's completely mind-melting. Zappa had a really big following in Liverpool amongst casuals – I remember going up there in the '90s and seeing his name daubed on walls in emulsion. Considering how much he hated drugs, he really did seem to connect with stoners."

"I guess there is singing on it, but it's still instrumental music that opens your brain. It starts out almost sounding like weird pots and pans that I guess, my theory is, they're speeding up and slowing down their four-track so it's like [makes hissing, distorted sound]. So it does that for probably ten minutes, you're just sitting there, it's like psychedelic meditation, like you could tone it out. It's definitely analogue, it's probably four-track because, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you feel something lift up, like it un-pause and start to record again and it's just like [makes skronky sound] and there's this weird guitar shit. But then they just have a good thing with mood where it just takes you on this weird textural journey and then somewhere along the way, it gets really heavy and the drummer starts in, and you don't know what he's saying, so it may as well be instrumental. The first Dead C record I ever got was Trapdoor Fucking Exit, which is an amazing title and an amazing album cover. That came out on Siltbreeze, which is a Philly label, so that's close to home. My buddy Richie, who I worked at this brewery with, he turned me on to that kind of thing and he made rethink how the... he basically hit me on to how my path in music should be, which would be: some people can jump up to a decent-sized label, but other people have to do it themselves, much like The Dead C, where you just start small and make it your own artform and then eventually, bigger labels aren't going to be able to ignore you because you're doing it yourself anyway. They can decide, if they like you, you're going to be doing it anyway. So I got that Tusk record pretty early, but I remember listening to it on the airplane in-between touring/recording for this new album and it's just another that just opens your brain and opens your mind. They're just as passionate, or they come off that way, about their music, except they're from Bumblefuck, New Zealand, but they put out tons of records, so it might as well be jazz - they're definitely influenced by that sort of thing. I have no doubt in my mind - but of course I could be wrong - that they're influenced by those psychedelic jazz records."

"There are very few bands that I have more than two or three records by, and with Eno in particular I think everything that Brian Eno does best is on this record. I've tried to listen to other Eno records but I still get more from this one than from any of the others. There's just something about it. It's got this wonderful ramshackle element to it, but at the same time it's really experimental, and everything he does best is there. I remember listening to The Unforgettable Fire and the bits I listened to most were the bits that were obviously Eno overdubs or reflected his attitude coming through. And on that same tip it's already on Here Come The Warm Jets. Plus it's got some brilliant musicians playing on it. There's that classic guitar solo by Robert Fripp on 'Baby's On Fire'. Everybody stops talking when those 32 bars happen, or however long it is. And it moves from mood to mood. Every song on it has an atmosphere. 'Cindy Tells Me' is kind of flippant. You can imagine him writing that on a Sunday morning with a hangover, waking up in a stranger's apartment that happens to have a piano. Maybe he was thinking that Roxy was commercially successful - I wonder if I can be as well. And at the time he wasn't, of course: it was just, oh god, here's a weirdo record from that bloke that used to be in Roxy Music. But I think there are a lot of great pop tunes on there as well as it opening the door for a lot of experimentation."