"This was very, very hard to put together and I’ve left out so many great songs. I could do a list of 150 songs at least, but ‘La Femme D’argent’ really leapt out. It’s the most electronic of the songs that I’ve selected. To this day, every time I listen to Air, it makes me fall in love with electronic music but in a way that reminds me that you can marry electronic music and, let’s say, traditional instruments, especially the bass guitar. Air are absolute geniuses with basslines, they have a great tone and it’s such a good homage to Serge Gainsbourg and stuff like that. Their sense of melody and structure and building up a song is quite something. They make the best background music that you want to play louder than the conversation that you’re having. I love it for driving, if I don’t know what to listen to, I’ll probably stick on Moon Safari or Premiers Symptômes, which is an EP that’s not talked about that much. So many of their tracks - ‘La Femme D’argent’ being a strong example - are really inspiring from a production point of view. It’s all about the little world that these tracks live in, where it couldn’t be anyone but Air. Bands like Zero 7 have copied Air, but it’s just not as good. You know something has a really unique quality when if you were to try to write a song in that style, people would know straight away; it would be like, ‘Oh, that sounds like Air.’ I think there’s other bands that manage it, take The Strokes when they did Is This It - you can sound like Is This It, there’s a world that that record is in. I could literally go downstairs right now and make a song that’s like Air and people would definitely say it sounds like Air, but if I recorded a song in the style of a band that doesn’t really have a unique quality in terms of recording or production, people would say, ‘Oh, it just sounds like an indie band.’ I never go out and want to copy anything. Rather than listen to it, I basically fast on music when I’m writing and recording, because I’m afraid of subconsciously taking inspiration from somebody else. I mean, you do that any way - you can’t help it - but when I’m asked, ‘What music were you listening to when making this album?’ I tend to reply, ‘No one, really.’ Again, you can’t not listen to music as it’s everywhere, but it’s different in terms of immersing oneself. Like when I got into Scott Walker, I would just listen to his albums, Scott 1, 2, 3 and 4 all the time, but I don’t think you should do that when you’re recording your own music. A while back, I was listening to a song off the most recent Arctic Monkeys record, ‘Four Out of Five’ and it occurred to me that they obviously had been listening to Lou Reed, because there’s that one melody that sounds exactly like ‘Satellite of Love.’ The bit that goes, “Take it easy for a little while…” that’s very obviously “Satellite of Love”. It’s like, come on. They are very open about what they listen to, but that’s just lifted. I think it’s their best record, but in terms of that particular lift they were either aware of it or they were listening to Lou Reed on the tour bus or obsessed with the Bowie/Lou Reed partnership or something. Generally, I do worry about that, because people compare our songs to things. The worst is when people say ‘Shelter Song’ is just ‘Ticket to Ride’, it’s nothing like ‘Ticket To Ride', it’s got a twelve-string guitar on it, that’s like saying any guitar song sounds like Robert Johnson or the Edge or someone!"

"I heard this for the first time at some point in the mid-90s and it had a big impact. For something so old, it sounded more like the future than anything being released then. It was hard to find on LP, but my friend John McKeown had a copy that I would borrow or listen to round at his. Eventually I bought a CD player so I could get it on reissue, as it took me years to find the vinyl. I reckon Eno was frustrated in Roxy Music. There didn't seem to be enough room for his experimentation or ego. You feel that he's running wild with pent up ideas in the way George Harrison did on All Things Must Pass. Although the sound is unconventional and experimental, it doesn't feel over-considered or precious in the way that many contemporary prog LPs do. It's spontaneous and quite thuggish at points. 'Blank Frank' sounds like he's wearing out the strings with a scrubbing brush. It's beautifully constructed as an LP. The songs are distinct and can stand alone, but there are wee passages of sound that link them together and the songs often overlap into each other, moving effortlessly between moods and musical conventions, melody and abstract noise. One moment 'Cindy Tells Me' sounds almost like it could be on the soundtrack of Grease (despite the lyric of rich girls confused by their new freedoms leaving their Hotpoints to rust in their kitchenettes), then you're in the dark, foreboding gloom of 'Driving Me Backwards' - ""kids like me have got to be craaaaaazzzzzyyyyy"" - what he does to his voice at that point will always sends a great shudder through me. I love his vocal delivery. It's very English and of that time - I hear it in Kevin Ayers, Robyn Hitchcock, Bid of The Monochrome Set and Syd Barrett, but none of the English singers around now seem to sing like that. What happened? Did that accent die out? There's a lovely send-up of the other Brian in 'Dead Finks Don't Talk' where he slips into a lecherous deep croon. It's heavily layered throughout, but it sounds like he didn't listen to himself as he double-tracked it. The phrasing and exaggerated vibratos don't often match which adds to the unnerving sense of panic which can suddenly drop to an intimate murmur. Eno has such a huge and recognisable persona, but not as a lyricist. There are some incredible lines on here: ""send for an ambulance or an accident investigator…""; ""Juanita and Juan/ Very clever with maracas…""; ""By this time time I got to looking for a kind of substitute/ I can't tell you quite how, except that it rhymes with dissolute…""; ""Meet my relations/ All of them/ Grinning like facepacks…"" the imagery is vivid, unsettling and direct. That's from a guy who pretty much abandoned writing lyrics shortly afterwards. Like Hunky Dory, this LP bridges two distinct parts of a career. There's still a Roxy flavour (Phil Manzanera is all over it), but songs like 'On Some Faraway Beach' point towards his ambient sound of the later 70s. It's a fleeting moment, never to be repeated. Well, except for on Taking Tiger Mountain. Maybe that's what makes this moment so great. He could have made another fourteen records with this template, all of which I'm sure would have had virtue. But he didn't. When we recorded our first LP, I played it to Tore Johansson [producer] and said I wanted it to sound like this. It didn't turn out that way, but it definitely had an impact on the session. We asked Eno to produce our second LP. He sent us a nice letter saying he couldn't do it, but that his daughter was a big fan of the band... Looking back I realise that it was the Eno who made this LP I was asking to produce. He's a smart guy and probably spotted that straight away."

"I chose that because it made its biggest impact on me, because it was the first one I heard [of all of Cat Power's albums]. I remember hearing 'I Found A Reason', which was her Velvet Underground cover, on John Peel late at night when I was driving around and having a cigarette when I shouldn't have been. And I heard John Peel saying ""listen to this amazing release by Cat Power, 'I Found A Reason'"". I just remember hearing it and being like this is a woman I can love forever. I went to see her promote The Covers Record at this tiny gig at Bush Hall. She went on stage in front of maybe 100 people and then totally freaked out, then she was fine and she played some amazing songs and me and my boyfriend sat right at the front. We got to meet her and she just cuddled us: ""You sent such good vibes throughout the whole show, I was looking at you the whole time because was everybody else was so scary"", and I was just like ""I love you!"" So it was just interesting; the other reason I chose The Covers Record is because her interpretations of 'Wild Is The Wind' or 'Satisfaction', 'Sea Of Love', it's like picking out classic songs, like The Langley Schools Music Project, and turning them on their head. For me, in 'Wild Is The Wind', that song could be David Bowie's version, it's sad, it's quite mellow, but she's just distilled it down to one particular aspect, which is really heartbreaking, dark chords, really so minimal. I love doing covers myself. I love changing your whole take on them and exploring a completely different side and changing the arrangements, and the chords even, and changing the lyrics sometimes, it almost becomes a poem that you're putting to something different. I think she's a connoisseur at that and probably because she doesn't play amazing piano and guitar, she does really simple backing, but it becomes almost like this spoken word poem. When she performs, she pushes herself to the edge. The fact that she finds it so hard, you're living with her on the edge when you go to see her and sometimes it's frustrating and you get fed up with her, sometimes you're just willing her the whole way through and in love. I think it's really interesting, the emotions it brings up in the audience, how they deal with that - some people get really fucking angry and some people cry. I think it's like a really interesting psychological public experiment at some of her shows I've been to - I've been to maybe twenty of her shows, and sometimes it's a very uncomfortable, strange process, but it's like Andy Kaufman and stand-up comedians or public artists that just stage these really bizarre events and people's reactions to those. With most people, you go along, and they're there to put on a show and be competent and be amazing, and that's what people think they're paying for these days. We've said about the Langley Schools thing, she never grew out of that childlike weirdness; there's something about all of it that's unapologetic and being you, and if that presses people's buttons because they want you to be something else, they want you to carry them through, then I find that really interesting as well, what it does to the listener. What do you want from an album or a musician? What I want is to be taken to their rawest place. If that's uncomfortable sometimes, then that's cool. You just have to be with people and accept them."