"That's like a bookend thing really, because it's one of the latest records I bought, only two months ago. Side one is the best side, sometimes he gets a bit busy, but the first track starts so sparsely, it's incredible. I saw Terry Riley recently when I was playing at the Primavera Festival. Everybody ends up staying in the same hotel near the site and a lift door opened and I saw him and he went 'hello Jarvis', and that was a very proud moment because I've only met him once before. Mark Webber, who was the guitarist in Pulp, he knew Terry Riley a bit and we actually did a performance of 'In C' with him at the Barbican years and years ago, and he remembered me from that. I was really touched. I think it's a really romantic record - none of these records have to be for any purpose but I have to say if you want to get it on with someone, it's a good one to put on. When Mark first introduced me to minimalism I thought 'there's not much happening here', but it makes you listen to music in a different way, you're listening to the actual sound of it. That expands your mind. Persian Surgery Dervishes is using that weird tuning, with loads more notes, it's questioning the idea of the Western scale, saying we can find notes within the notes. It's a long way from pop music, it's exciting, it's good to know you can be enthralled by music in which not very much happens. 
"

"There is something faintly off-putting about this book’s subtitle. We live in a world where the obsession with music’s past threatens to overwhelm its present, where the only music magazines that sell in any quantity deal in heritage rock, where virtually the only TV coverage of music comes via retrospective documentaries: the story of modern pop has been told and retold until it’s been reduced to a series of tired anecdotes and over-familiar landmarks. But Yeah Yeah Yeah’s brilliance lies in the personal, idiosyncratic route Bob Stanley takes through the past: for him, the modern pop era begins not with Elvis or “Rock Around the Clock”, but the release of Johnnie Ray’s 1954 album Live at the London Palladium, the first time a screaming teenage audience had been heard on record in the UK. He devotes more space to 1970 one-hit wonders Edison Lighthouse than to Led Zeppelin, delivers a withering verdict on some surprising sacred cows – Joni Mitchell, Patti Smith, Steely Dan – and is great at unearthing a forgotten quote that challenges what you might call the authorised version of events: at the height of the 1967’s Summer of Love, he finds the Who’s Pete Townshend not boggling at the new frontiers mapped out by psychedelia, but grumpily complaining that “people aren’t jiving in the listening boxes in record shops any more like we did to a Cliff Richard ‘newie’”. Stanley has a way of tackling well-worn topics – not least the Beatles – from unlikely angles, and of talking about artists you’ve never heard of with a contagious enthusiasm that makes hearing them seem like a matter of urgency. Best of all, he makes you laugh out loud while getting directly to the heart of the matter. The lugubrious late 70s output of Pink Floyd sounds like music made by people “who hated being themselves”. The punk-era Elvis Costello sang “like he was standing in a fridge”, and the experience of listening to novelty ska revivalists Bad Manners is “like being on a waltzer when you’ve had three pints and desperately need the toilet”. If you’ve ever heard them, you’ll know exactly what he means."

"Field Music are the kind of band that don't inspire me, in as much as they don't inspire me to pick up a guitar again - they make me realise there's no point. No matter how much time I put in, I'll never be able to get anywhere near their inventiveness and dexterity. David and Peter Brewis are not only two of the best guitarists in Britain - they're also two of the best drummers, songwriters and producers as well. I got into them around their Tones Of Town album which is like their Beatles album, with perhaps a bit of Genesis thrown in for good measure. 'She Can Do What She Wants' is perfect pop music and 'A Gap Has Appeared' is two minutes of unbridled prog-pop genius. After this, they weren't even sure if there would be another album, but thankfully there was Measure, their most accomplished work to date. It's a masterpiece. It sounds like it was recorded on a huge budget with Todd Rundgren producing. It wasn't, however - it was just Pete and David in their own studio in Sunderland. From start to finish, this is a flawless modern band showing their talents and influences. They're on hiatus now, and I don't know exactly what that means. I know Peter and his missus Jen are expecting a baby in March, and when I teamed Matt Friedberger and David up for a recent session for my programme there was talk of them forming a band together. That'll be mind-blowing. I told David I'd want to be their roadie if they get the band together and tour. He said, 'Well, we will be needing a bass player…' Ha… No chance. Not in a million years will I put myself between two musicians I reckon are absolutely worthy of the title genius. I'll be happy carrying their amps."