"These guys are a Brazilian 60s band, who people in their home country think of as their Beatles, but they're actually their own, weird, indescribable entity. The band is two brothers and a lady named Rita Lee. More than anything with this record, if you listen to it, you instantly want to live in Brazil – and you know a record is good if it makes you want to emigrate. It really conjures up a world. It's so imaginative and fun, it's part of that group of 60s records like Sgt Pepper's. They were 17 when they were making this record but they were already master songwriters with a massive skill and technique beyond almost everyone who is around right now. Just like The Beatles, they are able to be haphazard with it – they are so good they can have comedy skits in the middle of their songs: the coolest chorus with sound of breaking plates at the end of it. Apparently they were inventing machines while they were making it. They were putting their guitars through sewing machines. So the pulsing tremolo tone through one of the songs is the contact of the needle with the machine. Effectively they made a guitar pedal out of a sewing machine! It's super playful and Brazilian in character, but also perfectly fused with the international psychedelic revolution but it comes off as this other animal. It's the coolest thing when cultures get mixed together, it's so great to see that hybrid to happen. This band was important for me because when I was doing The Moldy Peaches because I was so inspired by how fun they were. My fantasy of what a show could be was them!"

"She takes that song 'Ain't Got No, I Got Life' and makes it so much more than a silly musical song [from Hair], she gives it emotional depth. That's the great thing about Nina Simone - she did so many Bee Gees songs - and the Bee Gees are this agreed-upon joke. I think the Bee Gees are amazing geniuses - they are just so prolific and the fact that they were able to make all these changes and keep going. They did this Beatles-esque psychedelic thing which I think is awesome and went onto becoming the kings of disco, and wrote that Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton song, 'Islands In The Stream'. Nina Simone hears a Bee Gees song or someone suggests it to her and she goes, ""That's such a sweet song - those guys have no soul at all, but I'm gonna make this song sound awesome."" What I love about that album is that it's mostly all recorded live - there's real space to it because of that. That's something we tried to do for the musical - record it live, we wanted to record it in the same room, but because there were so many elements we had to put in it was impossible. The album was recorded four days after Martin Luther King's death. I don't know how big Nina Simone really was in her lifetime, but it feels like we are lacking in politicised chanteuses right now. I think now [there's] this real era of Christian rock - people just want to be uplifted. It's kind of that dynamic thing that the critic criticises Cat Stevens for; you can probably criticise Coldplay or Mumford & Sons for the same kind of thing. Like, ""Oh you're just toying with me, you're starting all small and then making it huge, of course I have a religious feeling right now!""

"I'm pretty good friends with Egon who was the A&R guy for Stones Throw. Maybe it's no wonder the albums leaked in unfinished form because he'd send me beat tapes that J Dilla and Madlib would make. You'd get his CD with hundreds of tracks from J Dilla - they're all online now - and the same kind of thing for Madlib. You got the sense that those guys were always making beats. And when Donuts got released, it basically had all the best stuff from those beat tapes. But it's amazing to me how coherent they are and how well they work as an album - from what were seemingly unrelated two-minute snippets of instrumental hip-hop loops. It resonates with me as an album. It's turned me on to so much of the music that he sampled. At the time I was really into finding records with drum breaks and records with samples - that's how I made a lot of my music back then, was out of those records. He got me into that Dionne Warwick track 'You're Gonna Need Me' that he samples on Donuts. That's such an amazing track and he turned me on to that. He turned me on to the Eddie Kendricks record, People… Hold On, which is another one of my absolutely favourite records. He got me back into 10cc. It's also that aspect, of being a doorway into other things. We were on tour loads that year and we never, ever listened to music as a band. There was either silence, or people working on their own music on headphones or listening to stuff or doing whatever. But those two records [Donuts and Madvillainy] we could agree upon, and we'd listen to them over and over."

"I think I discovered that record when I was in seventh grade. It's like a perfect album, from beginning to end, which is a difficult thing to achieve. I've been a fan of AC/DC for years. Highway To Hell is another record I think is pretty perfect. That record was so huge and it hit so hard, it was a kind of bookmarker in your life, for me and millions of people. Oddly enough we went through a few things that they had to. Down the road we would go through the loss of a member and make a decision to continue on and do it successfully. I thought it was such a brave thing for AC/DC to triumph over that sort of tragedy [the death of singer Bon Scott in 1980], to continue to have their sound, and also to have Brian on such a fucking impactful record - it’s obviously charged with a ton of emotion from losing Bon. That process, it was a fairly quick change. Brian wasn't trying to sound like Bon, but it's still AC/DC. Our band is a kind of parallel in a way. When I started I was more of a rhythm player in whatever band I played in, so I really identified with Malcolm [Young], yet I was wanting to play lead like Angus. He's a phenomenal lead player, but I've always thought the backbone of band is the rhythm guitar. I guess a lot of the bands that I like are dual guitar bands. And I actually really wanted another guitar player in this band when we first started, but the other guys didn't want one, so I had to learn to play a little bit [laughs]."

"I think these albums [by Jaco Pastorius and Stanley Clarke] essentially let me know what I was supposed to do in life. I would read Jaco's autobiography, I wanted to learn everything about the man, and I would go find the other albums that he worked on. Everybody knows him as the actual virtuoso bassist that planted the seed, but I wanted to know what made him tick, what got him to the point of being who he was. That's what Jaco Pastorius did to me; it made me want to know him as a person. I would study, I would transcribe, I'd listen, imitate and mimic everything. As you go through different phases, somebody may even go so far as to say 'you sound like this person'. I mean, you gotta be okay with those moments, because it's leading to something. If you're keen on the instrument, it's always leading to something else. Every time I listen to the self-titled album I feel weightless. I feel like it's going between 10-year-old me and 35-year-old me. It almost feels like I've never heard it before, and I get the same emotions every time I hear it. It's one of the only ways I know I'm moving forward is by hearing this album all the time. It's crazy, it feels weird, but it's the truth. It's like a reset button in my life, listening to this album. By the time I get to the end of Jaco's album, I just remember how much and how hard guys like him used to work. It also reminds me to keep going, and it also reminds me where I came from."

"I was into so much stuff around this time. It was 1981 and I was 12, turning 13 at the end of the year. I loved Duran Duran and Associates, 2 Tone stuff, ABC, The Jam... it didn't really matter then. You didn't have to be part of any tribe. We had them, but we never called them mods or rockers or whatever. We had the Sweats - they were the heavy guys who used to sit in a circle and smoke dope on the school field. They liked Motörhead and they all stank of patchouli oil. But they were all very friendly. Then there the Smoothies - they were more like mods really. Very tidy and neat, with these wedge haircuts. But I could never really do that. I could be one thing one day, and something else the next. I liked 'Ace Of Spades' at the same time as liking 'Planet Earth'. It was all the same thing. I remember being in class and we were all talking about 'Love Action', and singing the middle bit - "I believe, I believe what the old man says...", which I thought was profoundly wise at the time. It's still pretty good. I like the line, "I believe in truth/ Though I lie a lot." The noises in the intro really intrigued me. And for a while I did put the air guitar down and get my mum's ironing board out and play the synths on that. The music's quite cold - it's quite a cold groove for a love song. And it is a love song. His voice is kind of warm, but he's got such authority - you believe everything he's singing. At the end of that year, when Dare came out, everybody had it. It was great."