"Around this time I started heading out on tour and The Gaslight Anthem really started moving. It was just after The ’59 Sound came out. That was when I started learning about the music industry and how it all works, and how insincere it all is. People pick you up and spit you out. I was taking a drive one day and I heard The Promise by Bruce Springsteen come on the radio. But it wasn’t the album version; it was just him and a piano as it appears on an album called 18 Tracks.” This song opens with the lyrics: ‘Johnny works in a factory / Billy works downtown / Terry works in a rock and roll band / Looking for that million dollar sound.’ Then towards the end of the song he says: ‘The promise was broken, I was far away from home / Sleeping in the back seat of a borrowed car.’ I remember being on tour and sleeping in the back of a car that wasn’t mine, and I heard that line and I was like, ‘I don’t know about this whole thing. I don’t know if this is right. What do I do?’ As Springsteen sings: ‘The promise is broken, you go on living / It steals something from down in your soul.’ That’s when I realised that music wasn’t about the rock star dream. It’s about connecting with people, but that’s not enough for the industry. They see you as a product and they want you to make money, and I understand that, but it’s never enough for them. They’re never satiated and they’re never satisfied. It’s a beast with a belly that will never be filled. “I’d feel a sense of dissatisfaction after every tour and I’d come home and get in my van and just drive. I’d drive around habitually for one hour playing The Promise on repeat, just to clear my head. The song made me feel like I wasn’t alone, like someone understood me. It was a huge, huge song for my development, and it always put me back in a perspective that I wasn’t alone. And even though it’s a depressing song and there’s not a lot of advice in it, it makes sense to me. I still feel good when I listen to that song."

"They were a black punk band from America. I love this record because it's kind of… erudite in its expression but it's fucking brutal. It's razor sharp. It's also gloriously anarchic. It's kind of punk but it's got real rock & roll lineage to it. The titles are brilliant: there's one called 'Politicians In My Eyes', another one called 'Rock-N-Roll Victim', 'Let The World Turn', 'You're A Prisoner'. It's just a real lost classic, and it's got real power. I can't remember if they're from Detroit or not - it would make sense, because so much has come out of Detroit - but it's one of those records I've just picked up and been astounded by it. I was always really good at picking up stuff in the margins of punk history, but I'd never heard anything about this band, and I love the idea that there's still stuff out there that's going to get credit after its time; that people who didn't get credit in their lifetime eventually get it if they're good enough. You can tell this band could have gone on to be utterly amazing; there's an articulacy there, a brutality there, a real rock & roll lineage, but a little off-kilter jazz edge to little bits of the playing. And the cover's absolutely lovely, it's almost like art deco Buck Rogers. It's just one of those records that's a little surprise in life; to stay in love with music, you need to have those little surprises, something that's been locked in a vault and it comes at you and it's such a surprise. And if you're ready to take on those surprises, it just shows you're still in love with the romance of music, that something's going to hit you in the middle of the eyes. And that's what this record did to me two years ago. I found it in Spillers in Cardiff, which was good because I really don't engage in the digital world - not through any kind of arch Ludditeness or anything, I just can't be arsed. So I listen to lots of radio and read lots of press and that's how I get my new records. That's why I love going to Spillers; sometimes there'll just be that bit of advice behind the counter. "Why don't you try this?" I just love that moment."