"Almost everything I have tried to say, Yoko Ono was saying over 30 years ago. For half a century, she has been a prophet in our midst. On WARZONE, producer Thomas Bartlett sets her sage voice amid the barest of arrangements, shining a light once and for all on the essence of Ono’s legacy.A recent Netflix film revealed that Yoko cowrote the words for “Imagine,” one of the songs for which John Lennon was deified. It is pure Yoko that she would sit silently next to John as he sang it, knowing the world would listen to her message if it seemed to be from the perspective of her partner, a white, male English megastar. Yoko Ono has given and given to us. She is one of the most brilliant and generous artists of the 20th century, and the public record now reflects this."

"I went to their show supporting this record at Webster Hall in New York, and Yoko Ono was there. Enough said. I couldn’t help but wonder if, had this record come out 10 years earlier, it would have given us a run for our money. It’s a whopper and hella refined."

"This band were in a similar-shaped box to Silver Apples. The nucleus of the band – Joe Byrd – was from an academic background; he was part of the Fluxus movement at the same time as Yoko Ono. He looked like a freak but wasn't druggy. The band were definitely writing lyrics that were less utopian than a lot of the stuff the hippies were writing at the time; there's a subversive edge seeping through the record that's evocative of what was going on in the States at the time – Vietnam, conscription, campus violence, the civil rights movement. You can really imagine this lot playing at a proper happening. A track like 'Love Song For The Dead Ché' is one of the most beautiful songs ever written, whereas some of the rest of it has a real jagged edge, a violence almost, that seems to come from Byrd's more experimental side. It's a very political record. Their second album even more so. I could easily have chosen that; this one just edged it for me today."

"I love weird people. The thing about voices is there's this idea, and this is my favourite thing about punk, is that I get really sad when people say they can't sing. That's not true. Anyone can be a singer. But when you hear Nina, she sounds like the exorcist. She uses all of her different voices. I don't even know another Nina Hagen record because that's the only one that ever really resonated with me. Playing that at Little Girls Rock camp [a foundation that funds and supports music education for young girls, of which Ditto is on the advisory board along with Tegan And Sarah and Kathleen Hanna], it blew their fucking minds. It blew their minds, and that is why I love Nina Hagen, and Yoko Ono, Diamanda Galas and Nina Simone because all of their voices are instruments. And her look! I met her and what did she say to me, "I didn't escape East Germany for nothing". Her story is phenomenal. It makes sense, because when you come from that kind of place you have to push the envelope because there's nothing to guide you. You have to make it up yourself and when you get to do that without pop culture references you get fucking Nina Hagen. It's so rare. I wonder what the next level of really untouched creativity will be? I wonder what that will look like? "

""This is by far the most important record for me. I heard it when I was 16. I was in a boarding school for boys, which was like a Victorian prison. One evening, I was told by the housemaster – who hated me – to take a phone call. It was my mum, who tells me that my dad was on the verge of dying and was having an operation that night. The operation may save him, but he is old and he might not wake up from the anaesthetic. I am told that I couldn't go home and that I just have to wait it out. At ten o'clock, the boarding school have 'lights out'. I am lying on my bed, in a state. I'm not going to be able to sleep, so I sneak through the corridors, down through the study to the one thing that redeems my life, which is the stereo system. Horses is there and I have no idea why I put it on. The first track I play ['Birdland'] is about a father dying, and a long, black funeral car and a boy standing watching. It is a nine-minute improvisational piece about Wilhelm Reich dying and his son, Peter, helping his father through the death process. This song shook me to the core, partly because it was improvised – it has no structure of verses or a chorus – and is just this rambling poem of desperation and longing. I think, from that moment on, I subconsciously knew I wanted to be a singer. I wanted to be somebody who could write a song that a boy or girl 5,000 miles away could hear and be moved so much that it would change his or her life. Therefore Horses became my template, probably by chance, because something so powerful happened to me on the night I first heard it. I then bought tickets to see her play and my parents banned me from going. I had to run away from home to go and see her show, and I was quite a good boy, so it was an unusual act for me. I had a couple of amazing things happen later in my life. Lenny Kaye, who had been a guitar player in her band, became the godfather to my eldest son. He also produced James' first record [Stutter]. Then, after Patti had been retired for a while, Lenny rang me from Detroit and told me that Patti was going to do her first gig in 15 years. He said that she might play for ten minutes or two hours. It was a wake as her husband and brother had just died. I flew to Detroit and I sat in front of her with about 150 people in a church, while she sang and read poetry, whilst crying, for three hours. It was her first gig in 15 years and afterwards I carried her guitar to the car and sat next to her and we talked. After that concert, I needed nothing more from Patti Smith. It had come the full circle of the apprentice sitting with his teacher. In fact, I did get more from her. She curated the Meltdown festival. She invited me to sing one night – it was a night of singing songs about lost children. I was the only man singing on that night. I sang with Tilda Swinton, Kristin Hersh of Throwing Muses, Tori Amos, Sinéad O'Connor, Yoko Ono, Marianne Faithfull and Patti Smith. It was one of the most incredible musical nights of my life. I got to play with the great icons of the last 20 years – the women who have changed what it is like to be a woman in rock & roll on every level. It was a great honour and quite awe-inspiring. It completed the completion. No other album comes close to Horses. I became a singer three years later because of Horses. It is why I write songs that are naked and that wish to reach out and change people's lives, rather than any of the other million reasons people become singers."