"London Calling is probably my favourite rock record of all time. It’s incredibly powerful and diverse, it’s social, political and has all sorts of musical genres - punk, rock, ska, ballads, jazz and dub - rolled into the song arrangements. The Clash were at their peak when they made it and the kick-off track is the most anthemic song they ever wrote. It’s got everything, brilliant lyrics, a brilliant performance, it just sounds killer and Mick Jones’ guitar playing is phenomenal, when you hear that guitar riff it’s like a fire alarm going off. ‘London Calling’ is like a call to arms, it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up every time I hear it, it’s that powerful. I went to see them on that tour at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago and it was absolutely rammed. The second they started playing the entire room started jumping up and down and I thought the building was going to collapse, you could feel the whole place shaking. It was an old theatre and I was watching from the balcony, thinking we should maybe get to a safer location but I became so immersed in the music I forgot about it, it was a fantastic show. There were obviously differences between the British and US punk bands and some of that is in the sound of the records. The British records had a bit of a darker sound to them and that could be due to technical stuff in the mastering, but a lot of it had to do with the performances. To me, the British bands have always been ground-breaking, as a whole there were better new wave and punk bands coming out of the UK than the US, it was like the second British invasion. There was a great scene in New York, The Ramones, Talking Heads, Television and Blondie were ground-breaking at the time, but England, a country with a much smaller population than the US, had a larger percentage of iconic bands from that era."

"She is a Turkish goddess. It is folk [music] in its essence, I suppose, but this record is fierce. She is angry and compelling and this record fires me up. It was when I was on tour with Gruff [Rhys] – maybe about eight years ago – and Andy Votel was with us and doing DJ sets and he was playing 'Ince Ince' from this record. I had become a bit lazy about discovering music and had become a bit fatigued at listening to new things. Suddenly Andy is playing music like Selda and it was so exciting. He opened a world of new music to me. I started listening to things by Iranian female musicians like Googoosh and also to Susan Christie's Paint A Lady album. It was all incredibly exciting music that I hadn't known about it. It was like opening Pandora's Box to me. I would play it to everyone I possibly could. I would constantly be saying, ""Have you heard this record by Selda? It's one of the best records I have ever heard"" and I would get it out and play it to anyone. It would always get the same reaction. I remember playing it to St Vincent when I was touring with her and she lost her shit when she heard it. I think she subsequently went on to cover one of the songs. Last year I was playing a show in Switzerland in this old cinema which was absolutely incredible. It had a huge disco ball and we were having a bit of a lock-in. We were having our own private disco in this cinema and I put a Selda track on and everybody just went absolutely apeshit. It is just a record that you cannot get fatigued by – I was listening to it this morning and got excited all over again. The synths and the electric sitars on it are so infectious – the album is like a musical virus. I recommend everyone listens to it."

"This goes back a long time for me. This was a real defining record for Supergrass around '95 when we were first starting out. It was on the tour bus all the time and I remember our tour manager at the time really loving it. He'd wake us up every morning knocking on our door going, 'baby's on fire!', doing this mad Eno impression and that would always lift us up and make us laugh. There were so many lyrics that we'd sing at each other. I'd meet Danny and go, 'Cindy tells me…' It had this really long lasting effect on us. It's brilliant, just brilliant. It's Eno being kind of clever but dumb, sophisticated but raw and I think it's brilliant. I love his voice and the double-tracking on it and I think it ended up being quite an iconic sound. It's very unique. And for all of his technical ability, I love that he plays dumb on some of these tracks, you know, like on 'Needles In The Camel's Eye' and the guitars are big, filthy, dirty and horrible things. I love it. We almost did work with Brian Eno. We had a meeting with him in Paris before Diamond Hoo Ha and I can't remember exactly what happened but I think our timing schedules didn't work out. It was something frustrating that meant we couldn't work with him. It's weird one. It's kind of like, are they different Brian Enos? Is it a danger to confuse the Here Come The Warm Jets Brian Eno thinking that he was going to walk into a studio with us and create something that gives you that feeling because he's a different person now. I think he's amazing and he's proved to be still a musical force. An incredible guy and he was a really lovely chap when we met him."

"OMG, so I heard that in high school and I of course tried to sing along with it but as she's one of the best singers living or dead, she put the bar pretty high. I'd already learned projection, being able to project my voice by doing musical theatre as a kid, and she was somebody who could project really strongly, have a sweet sounding voice, a strong sounding voice; she had just a huge range. Definitely clever lyrics, her songs were the kind of songs you just wanted to belt out. I especially remember the song 'Do Right Woman, Do Right Man', it went, "So if you want/ A do-right-all-days woman/ You got to be/ A do-right-all-nights man", I was like, "What? You mean that you can ask your boyfriend that if you're supposed to be super awesome to him, he has to be super awesome to you back?" Because I always had awful boyfriends who were total dicks so I was like, "Wait, I deserve better?" Here was this woman telling me, "Look if you want me to stay home and not go running around, you gotta stay home and not go running around either, it's a two-way street here." She was basically staying: "I want equality in my relationship." That was a great message to me as high-school kids who had some pretty destructive relationships. Even though I wasn't really able to realise that until much later, it was a great thing to have in my head. I think my mum's boyfriend had her record so I was introduced to it because it was just there at home. I never had a huge record collection or anything, like five records. But when they started dating he had a bunch of records and I learnt about King Crimson, Van Morrison and Aretha Franklin.‬"

"It was a real wake-up call. Hip hop until 1984, 85 was fun but for the most part it was party music. Living outside New York we'd listen to WBLS and Kiss FM where they played a lot of hip hop and me and my friends liked it, but it was very lighthearted. The Fatboys are the perfect example, or the Treacherous Three, where they have disco basslines and this fun vocal. Then almost out of nowhere Public Enemy happened. Everything about it was different. The lyrics were different, Chuck D's vocal approach was different, the subject matter and the production, the Bomb Squad. I remember hearing it for the first time and thinking how did they do this, because they've basically made punk rock hip hop, the sounds they were using, the way they were distorting basslines, it was a lot of the same ways industrial records were being made but they were making hip hop. It was so revolutionary. You can refer to musical culture in New York as before and after Public Enemy, it changed the city. New York was so dangerous then, it had the highest murder count, people were getting stabbed and shot and the crack epidemic was decimating communities and people were dying of AIDS. You'd go out to nightclubs in the late 80s and you'd hear these apocalyptic Public Enemy songs that perfectly described the city that you lived in, but they were oddly celebratory and you could dance to them. For better or worse one of the reasons I've left New York is because the city I grew up with is still there, but it's become a much meaner, safer version of its former self. I still love New York, but it's become primarily the domain of hedge fund managers and wealthy tourists, so I don't know how many more Suicides and Silver Apples and Public Enemys and Eric B & Rakims are going to come out New York City."