"That was a big album for us. Just the title alone amused us. From a sonic perspective, this one sounded fantastic. We were drawn to it because of the simplicity and the way it’s put together. It transcended punk, because it was such an important album for a lot of musicians in the 70s that were still hippies. Them boys had our attitude, and we liked that attitude. We liked the Clash, too, but we didn’t really like any of the other punk bands. But this album, even if it didn’t have the surface, the title and all the hype, you’d still think it was a fucking great album. It could have been a Metallica album. We could have played that album. We had a little bit of the anti-establishment attitude in songs like ‘Strong Arm of the Law’, which didn’t get played on radio despite being a single, because it was anti-police. We looked like hippies but we had the attitude of punks. That period was a melting point of different musical styles, and as punk faded we were there to take its place, as was the new romantic movement, which was the other side of the coin – we’d be doing Top of the Pops with Motörhead and Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran."

"That's a record that Jack [Bevan] from Foals had discovered when we were living in Oxford writing Total Life Forever and there were eight of us in one house: other musicians, no TV, just a record player in the fireplace. The house was falling apart and that record was the soundtrack to that whole period, 2009 to 2011. It was the record I felt envious of not having made. They did something that I felt I was close to being able to make but also superior, and it wasn't what I'd made! I thought: ""Shit, they got there first!"" It's a strange record from a strange group because they seem underappreciated and under-exposed and never really play live. We ended up going to record in Gothenburg and we met Dan Lissvik on this industrial estate in the winter. He talked about how life is a pendulum and he sits above it; he was chain smoking and was a good guy. The record itself though is somebody's idea of West Coast hip-hop filtered through a suburban Swedish kid's imagination. It is at odds with what Gothenburg is like in the winter. The production on it is amazing, with elements of interlocking guitars, but it's freer and maybe it helped us loosen some of the strictness that was in the band at the beginning sonically."

"When we were talking earlier about a record accidentally affecting a whole community of musicians in a particular town, this is a record which came out on the same South Korean label that reissued the Erkin Koray album. I don't understand the lyrics so I just enjoy the emotion. I think she's a really popular singer in Korea but I've no idea if the lyrics are mediocre or profound! But anyway, I was playing some records in the market in Cardiff with DJ Esther and Don Leisure - whose album Shaboo came out in 2018 and is really great, instrumental sampled hip-hop - and they were both playing this Kim Jun Mi album! I was like 'I know this one' and we had a chat about the album. Later that week, I was having a cup of tea outside a café and a fellow musician, Carwyn from Colorama, stopped to tell me he was walking through the market the other day - he was probably buying veg or something - and heard this track and started describing it to me and it was clearly Kim Jung-Mi. I like the idea of four people in a loose musical community just turned on randomly through geographical reasons by a record that might influence them. It's a community generating a unique cultural identity through chance happenings."

"This is such an important record. It spawned a whole scene of music. You talk to any electronic musicians from the 90s onwards, and they'll say that. And they were just two boys from Leeds. I haven't seen him for a long while, but we worked with Gez, G-Man, we released his records in the 90s and I know what kind of guy he is. But I'd also spoken to Mark Bell, and Mark was very different. When I talk to Gez, I just talk to someone who's made a record, and he's just talking about his music. Mark was very clever and he was obviously the thinker of the two of them. But that combination of the two of them, those two guys: the title track with that bass, and 'Simon From Sydney', again it's a record that we've listened to a billion times. Gez used to say that they were part of a breakdancing crew, they were just mates, and they were so young when that record came out. I think they were 19, and they had a song in the top 20 and somebody on Radio 1 said their music was awful or something like that. They had everything happening at once at a very young age. I'm sure it affected them. But LFO were lads, you know. It wasn't high concept. It was dancefloor. That was what they were trying to do: to move people's butts and shake the bottom end."

"I never got into the ‘Celebration Of The Lizard’ stuff, and I’m still not mad on it. In the minibus on early Bunnymen tours we’d play a lot of Doors, and I got into it. I think they wrote some of the best three-minute pop songs ever. Robby Krieger came up with some of their best pop songs. Even though I prefer the Velvets as a group, The Doors are the most perfect and compatible four musicians in the history of time. The stuff they were doing was unbelievable. Even some of the madder stuff I can handle. If you listen to the musicianship, Ray Manzarek’s keyboard playing is so recognisable from just being a bluesy player, and it never gets on your wick. Some keyboard playing you’re like, "oh, fuck off". The band had the best drummer, keyboardist, guitarist and frontman – and it never got muso. Morrison looked incredible. If he was alive today he’d still be just as good, not so mysterious perhaps, but more of an Allen Ginsberg or Nick Nolte, swatting flies from his face on Venice Beach with a bevvy in his hand. He’d still be at it. And therefore, a heroic figure, looking like he’d been up for three weeks growing the world’s largest beard. I love the way ‘Peace Frog’ runs into ‘Blue Sunday’. The singing was incredible. I just don’t understand how The Doors weren’t even bigger."

"I heard this through a journalist, Michael Azerrad, he's a good guy. We started direct messaging on Facebook or I met him, I don't know what happened, and he said, ""You should listen to this"" and then I got it. He said that you're either going to love it or it'll feel like you're getting punished by having water dripped on your head! And I said, ""Perfect, I'll do that!"" It's incredible; once again, I watched it on YouTube, him performing in Japan, like, ""Fuck, really?! You can do this live?!"" Also, I just like the atonal thing of it and what they get from composing. It's very neutral. I actually used it, it's a total influence, you can totally hear it, on 'Birthday Video', it's on Weeds. I layered a lot of guitars and to my surprise, a lot of these noises start coming through, these sympathetic notes, and I was like, ""Wow-whee! This is cool!"" Totally taken from him, I hear it plain as day. I also got his box set, it's great. He's always got some kind of concept to it. He wrote one for what it would be like on a train ride to the Holocaust [Different Trains], to reach finality. He's got all these studies, drums, all sorts of percussion, but ...18 Musicians, I love it, I listen to it in my bunk in the bus!"

"I picked Steve Reich because I think it changed the parameters of how I thought about music. At the time I was 17, playing in The Edmund Fitzgerald and I hadn't really ever been aware of modern classical or minimalism and it inspired me and also reinforced stuff that I intuitively liked in music, such as points of sounds and structural emphasis. The band Youthmovies introduced me to Reich - they had a quite formative effect on me in a sense that, up until then, I still listened to music in a tribal way, as in I had to identify with whatever subculture was going on, so I listened to Skinny Puppy and really plunged my identity into that, for example. I was in that teenage phase of tying up your fashion and your self identity with music. They also played me Gwen Stefani, Missy Elliott and Stars Of The Lid and they showed me that you didn't have to only identify with one tribe - they broke that way of thinking down. So that record was really important. And on a more simplistic level, it's just stunning. It's the kind of record you can listen to in any environment, unbound by context - it induces a trance-like state. It's a particularly good record to listen to when you're on the Underground, it's soothing - the perfect soundtrack to seeing thousands of people walking past you. He's one of my top five favourite musicians of all time."

"When we signed our record deal in America, it was a really exciting time and I remember going over there and, at that point, they were basically doing anything to sign us! We went to Interscope Records. We had no money that that point, we were struggling musicians and this woman just opened up this kind of cabinet that was full of every record that Interscope had put out and the one that she chose was Sea Change, saying, “You should listen to this one, it’s only just come out”. And I’d never really been into Beck, I’d just found it sort of contrived but it completely changed my perspective of him. It was just when I met my girlfriend at the time, who’s now my wife. Sea Change is a break-up album but we fell in love to this break-up album, it was the soundtrack to our car journeys at the time. It was really peculiar; normally an album reflects where you are at the time and whenever I hear the songs from it, I’m transported back to this really happy time when we were getting together. That’s what I like about it, because it’s so bare, from what I remember he wrote it just after splitting up from his long-term partner. Trying to convey the misery of such a messy break-up in such a direct way, I was just blown away by that."