"One of the first records I remember having any kind of relationship to was the soundtrack to 2001. At that point, I wasn’t allowed to put the needle on the record, but my dad would put it on, and, looking back now, I liked it ’cause it it scared me. There’s a lot of spooky stuff on there. I wanted to hear the record that was going to freak me out, and I wanted my dad in the room while it was being played. Growing up in Temple, Texas, my dad was the looser parent, the kind of guy who would wake the kids up in the morning by turning the stereo on really loud and blasting some upbeat music. In fact, the neighbor was always calling over to tell him to turn his stereo down. Later, he became a little more strict and got more religious; now he goes to mass every day. My parents split up in ’79, when I was 8. It was a pretty acrimonious break up. By then, I had a younger brother and sister, and we would go see my dad every other weekend. There was a certain voice my mom reserved only for my dad—when she would pick up the phone and use this voice, I knew it was him: “Oh hello.” There was a lot of animosity there for a long time, but as of the last couple of years, we have all shared Thanksgiving together for the first time since 1978, which has been really nice. My little brother now has a kid, so that brings everybody together."

"The record came out in October and Roc Marciano is like a national treasure, basically [laughs]. The record KAOS that we did together is just fucking ridiculous and I couldn't wait for it to drop. I wanted to include it because when I heard what Roc had done, I felt the same kind of excitement I felt with some of those early records which is rare for me. He's created a whole different style of subcultural, subversive music right now and he's undoubtedly one of my favourite MC's. His work is mad, original and extremely lyrical like GZA. Like every line he writes, you could make a fucking movie out of each one. To work with somebody, I've got to click with them and I've got to meet them and if it's cool, we do some music together. It has to be like that for me. I've worked with everybody I ever wanted to work with growing up and now, I really like picking artists and working with artists that aren't really well known but who do something extraordinary. This project was all just about getting up, creating art and having fun and just enjoying myself. I've been producing people's music my whole life and I've turned down working with a lot of big pop stars for a lot of money because I just like doing my own thing and it has to be right. I don't like making a beat for someone and just giving it away – it has to be something I love and something I enjoy, which is what this project was all about."

"This was a life changing experience for me. I went to one year of college at a small college in Minnesota, and during that year I befriended an older student named Tim Streeter who I hung out with a lot. He played Tom Waits for me and handed me On The Road by Jack Kerouac. Since I’m from this small farming community, I wasn’t exposed to a lot of unusual art. I had seen The Seventh Seal when I was a kid on PBS. One night [Tim Streeter] said “There’s a movie playing at the student union and you should go.” It was Harold and Maude, and I was amazed by it. There’s no dialogue for the beginning of the film, and it begins with Harold killing himself. His mother berates him for it. Bud Cort’s performance is so great, that this is when I began to become a Hal Ashby fan. I could name his films as all of my Five Favorites if I wanted. Being There is certainly near the top. I chose this one because it was so formative for me. Ruth Gordon, when she tells Harold to go out and love and have experience and give him something to talk about in the locker room, it’s such a great thing, such a beautiful moment. When Ruth Gordon throws the ring or piece of jewelry that Harold’s given to her, and she said, “Now I’ll always know where it is,” I think it’s in that scene where the camera catches a concentration camp number on her wrist that’s never mentioned or talked about. It gives me chills because it’s so affecting and subtle."

"A Clockwork Orange I’ve seen about 35 times. I remember first seeing that and I certainly didn’t get half the movie, but when I was young, I just thought it was just kind of weird and strange and I really appreciated it as I got a little older and saw it more often and more often. Then it became this sort of like a party background movie, something that just became part of my life. I certainly appreciated the language. Not profanity or anything but its own language, and the visual of it, I really appreciated the visual, because the visual is such a storytelling part of it and the language was so bizarre in its own kind of language. I really appreciate the work that goes into that. This is more like a highbrow sort of snobby film pick, but a sick demented sense of humor is kind in that movie as well. Ultimately it’s the visual storytelling and the language that I thought was so tremendous. It’s an absolute acid-trip fantasy weird thing. I never did drugs growing up because I watched Clockwork Orange enough so I didn’t have to do drugs. There’s a lot of shock value to it, but I really appreciated it for that. It was really kind of interesting for me and it all was put together in a very smart way, I believe. It’s not just sensationalism or anything like that because that kind of s— bothers me. But anyway, there’s a lot of things in that movie that I really like and appreciated. it really well in that film."

"This is the most contemporary record of the lot. They're a West Coast band. There's one track on there called 'Valiant Brave', which is one the most extraordinary songs I've heard in many years. It sounds like an Apache war cry recorded on the backside of a mountain somewhere. It's the most indescribable record. I'd love to have written it. There's just two chords and the arrangement is quite unusual. It hit me first time round and I was listening to it over and over. Then I bought the album. The rest of the album is very tight harmony work. They sound like sons of the Beach Boys. It's encouraging to hear a young band sound that good. It's purist. It's where the Fleet Foxes are going. It's a lovely record. Primarily I find new music by people telling me about bands, but I like the Uncut and Mojo magazine sampler CDs – they've got a wealth of tracks by new bands, underground bands. That's where I heard 'Valient Brave'. When you're making a living out of music and writing, there's such a lot to learn from what's already been recorded. It'd take you a lifetime to appreciate what's been done. But it's great when something is out on its own and you hit on something new; when someone's hit on a pulse and it's not derivative. Very early Blur were really good and the first Supergrass EP was fabulous. That was the last time it got exciting for me. Damon [Albarn] gave me a cuddle at the Hootenanny recently and told me he loved me."

"I suppose this is another more upbeat song. I feel like I can remember it from one of those Best of the ‘80s compilations from when I was a teenager, but unlike a lot of the songs from that era, it has a lot of real lived experience and heart to it. “Although these songs are in chronological order, this had an influence on me when we were touring with Klaxons in 2007. At the end of the tour I stayed in New York to write on my own for a few weeks. I’d read that Mike Scott from The Waterboys was living on the East Side, and I would walk around that area every day listening to “The Whole of the Moon” hoping I’d bump into him. Which I never did, unfortunately. “I love the story behind this track. Essentially, one night Mike Scott had been out drinking and he met this girl. As he walked her back to her apartment, he told her he was a songwriter and she said “Well, then write me a song now.” He looked up at the sky and there was a half crescent of the moon, and he wrote the first half of this song on the walk home, just to impress this girl. I was so blown away by the romance of that. “I would sit on this bench at a dog park and think ‘How do I summon that greatness in a song.’ A few days before I flew home, I wrote “Two Doors Down”, sat on that bench in that dog park. And I feel I’ve got Mike Scott to thank for that."

"There are very few bands that I have more than two or three records by, and with Eno in particular I think everything that Brian Eno does best is on this record. I've tried to listen to other Eno records but I still get more from this one than from any of the others. There's just something about it. It's got this wonderful ramshackle element to it, but at the same time it's really experimental, and everything he does best is there. I remember listening to The Unforgettable Fire and the bits I listened to most were the bits that were obviously Eno overdubs or reflected his attitude coming through. And on that same tip it's already on Here Come The Warm Jets. Plus it's got some brilliant musicians playing on it. There's that classic guitar solo by Robert Fripp on 'Baby's On Fire'. Everybody stops talking when those 32 bars happen, or however long it is. And it moves from mood to mood. Every song on it has an atmosphere. 'Cindy Tells Me' is kind of flippant. You can imagine him writing that on a Sunday morning with a hangover, waking up in a stranger's apartment that happens to have a piano. Maybe he was thinking that Roxy was commercially successful - I wonder if I can be as well. And at the time he wasn't, of course: it was just, oh god, here's a weirdo record from that bloke that used to be in Roxy Music. But I think there are a lot of great pop tunes on there as well as it opening the door for a lot of experimentation."

"Basically, after that Ali Hussan Kuban revelation, I started searching high and low for as much of this music as I could possibly find. And then I started looking further. I started googling musicians in the Nile. For me, I found that it was only music from Nubia that had a certain thing about it. Arabic music, from further north, I love it and it's beautiful. I listen to a lot of that but it's more refined than Nubian music. That's not to say that Nubian music isn't sophisticated, but there's something a bit more direct about the Nubian stuff. A bit more punk-rock. I was looking for this music, and I found Mahmoud Fadl. There were these albums called Drummers of the Nile. It's slightly instructional in that they name a rhythm and then they play the rhythm. It's quite a journey through that whole type of music. This track 'Shofna Gamar', it's a pentatonic melody. Jimi Hendrix, the blues, R&B - a lot of stuff comes from pentatonic scales and it feels to me that these Nubian rhythms are the roots of our rhythmic appreciation. One of the big things in Melt Yourself Down was, if I take these ancient rhythms and just change the aesthetic of them so they sound modern, would it feel like modern music? It does. So I came to the conclusion that there's something in these rhythms that we really respond to and I think the same with pentatonic scales, I've always been really drawn to them. So 'Shofna Gamar' is an amazing way of making pentatonic scales feel really fresh, so joyful."

"I wasn't sure if I could pick Pixies as well as The Breeders, but fuck it! They're two different bands. I wanted to put this in here because seeing as this is the story of The Big Moon, as a band we have quite a broad range of music tastes. We all love bands and guitar music generally, but there are so many styles and it can go so many different ways. We all like a lot of the same bands but there aren't that many songs where we have that special cross-over moment and we find a song that we all adore. In the van, whoever’s driving gets to play whatever they want. Quite soon after we formed as a band we went round to Fern's house to try and think of a band name. We had this great night where we got really drunk and danced to Tom Jones. I seem to remember making quite a lot of mess, spilling drinks and stuff. It was just four girls getting very drunk together. We all realised that we loved this song and someone put it on the playlist. We were thinking about calling our band No Aloha after that, for about a week. We even wrote it in big letters on Fern's bedroom wall. We thought it'd be a really cool name, but then in the end we thought it'd be a bit of a mouthful to say on stage - "Hi, We're No Aloha!" - and we didn't want a lifetime of spelling it to people. But whenever it comes on in the van we're always like "yaaaay"!"