"This album was massive for me. Still is. I first heard this on a cassette in the post from my brother with a note saying, "Demis Roussos on bass!" He put two tracks on there and they both blew my mind. I knew immediately I needed to find this record but was convinced it was incredibly obscure. A few weeks later, I was in this old drill hall in Falmouth that doubled up as a house-clearance furniture shop. Flicking through the records in there, between multiple copies of No Jacket Required and some Cornish male-voice choir stuff, there was 666. I bought it and raced home and was pretty pleased to hear it was a lot more bonkers than I could ever have imagined. This album is properly bonkers. The gatefold sleeve has a 2CV crashed into a wall; the music is so incredibly inspirational. As a piece of work it's outside of any frame of reference – it's like discovering a new colour or a new flavour. Every time I see a copy I have to buy it – I give it to anyone I know who doesn't have it yet."

"This is a record I discovered long after the fact, but it’s become one of my favorite albums of all time. I love it even more because it comes from that magical late ‘80s period when there was so much amazing music being made. It’s like other records I’ve chosen because it has its own sound that permeates every track on the record. A while back, I treated myself to an original pressing of this. It was one of the few times in my life I have actually bought one of the albums that hang on the wall of a record store rather than in the racks! It was expensive at the time, I think around £30, but when I think about how many rounds of drinks I bought that cost more than that, it feels like money well spent. This is Larry Heard, the bedroom genius; it’s such a distilled version of his talents. And as such, I found it really inspirational when I started to want to make my own electronic music. I record under the name GLOK and Mr. Fingers is one of my main influences. My favorites are ‘Can You Feel It’ and ‘Washing Machine,’ but it’s all excellent."

"Beans On Toast is a guy called Jay and he used to run a pub in North London called Nambucca. When I was playing [gigs] in North London, I started hanging out there. Jay had this tiny little guitar and knew basically three chords, and he used to write these fun little songs about stuff that happened to us the weekend before. This was happening during the point in my life when my writing was deliberately complex and I was trying to be obtuse and challenging and all these kinds of things, so to hear that kind of simplicity both lyrically and musically was so inspirational to me. And it was so direct that it felt kind of punk in a roundabout way. I’d spent years writing these obscurantist lyrics and suddenly, here was a guy writing songs about us and our adventures and our thoughts and feelings and foibles and all the rest of it. It just knocked me sideways. When my old band Million Dead broke up, Jay was the leading light for me in terms of what I was going to do next—quite a lot of my early songs sound quite a lot like Jay, for good reason."