"I sometimes worry that I don't like current music. I remember when I was thinking about today's interview that I was so glad this is a current album. Well, actually it's four or five years old. When I first heard this album it blew my mind – it has hit after hit. There is a conviction he has when he does things that could possibly be deemed as being cheesy or not cool and this conviction overshadows all of that and it is wholly satisfying. I knew of him before, but it was a wonderful surprise to hear this music. You hear a song like 'Round And Round' and it is epic – it's like a mini-musical with all the different parts – and everything is so intricate, be it the percussion or the different vocal parts. I think it is a masterpiece. It was really wonderful discovering him and finding that he had a trail of all these really bizarre records that he had been doing for years. You could buy all these weird albums - he was beatboxing on some of them - and I loved generally finding out all of his history. He would tour and not turn up at gigs, or just lie on the ground and shout ""I'm too ill to do this!"" and leave, or he would just turn up with a bag of mixtapes and put them in a tape machine and sing karaoke. I think there are a lot of faux eccentrics knocking around, so it is nice to find someone who is genuinely eccentric. It's satisfying to know it comes from a real place. I was lucky enough to see him play in a church in Koreatown [in Los Angeles] about eight months ago. There is always a worry when you really love a record that a gig might not be as good. He came on stage wearing leopard-print trousers and a floral shirt and carrying a basket of flowers and told us he was Little Miss Riding Hood – it was just wholly entertaining. He is a real treasure."

"The thing about Shiny Beast is it features Beefheart having come through a very difficult period. If you look at him, he started off with The Legendary A&M Sessions doing 'Diddy Wah Diddy' and then Safe As Milk with Ry Cooder, which is a great blues album with a bit of pop to it. And then you've got Trout Mask Replica which is one of the wonders of the world, really. I love the myth of it, him locking the musicians up in the house and feeding them hallucinogens but not proper food, of them having to go to the local store to thieve food to keep body and soul together, and Beefheart taking credit for all the music when he couldn't really play and he was surrounded by these musical geniuses - so the myth of it is well deserved. They're all great records but then the Magic Band left him and he got session musicians in and it just got depressing. He wasn't a particularly nice character, he was just hell bent on making records the way he wanted them. For example, there's a story about him firing a crossbow at one of his musicians. That's why Ry Cooder left, he had to dive behind the sofa and then left not long afterwards. [Actually Ry Cooder quit in disgust after Beefheart fell off a ten foot stage at the Mount Tamalpais Festival, landing on the band's manager Bob Krasnow. The singer was on LSD and in a state of shock after seeing a girl in the audience turn into a fish with bubbles coming out of its mouth. It was the original Magic Band drummer Doug Moon who threatened Beefheart with a crossbow, unable to put up with the singer's incessant criticism. Ed] It was Mark Smith who introduced me to Beefheart and it was this album, it was 1977 and I was 16. It was an amazing album and so beautiful. 'Tropical Hot Dog Night' is one of the most beautiful songs you'll ever hear. 'The Floppy Boot Stomp' is so exciting… it just rings like a bell. It has some of the most beautiful and exciting music you'll ever hear and the musicianship is great."

"She's one of my all-time favourite artists, all-time favourite spirits and one of my all-time favourite voices. I think she's incredibly fragile and I continue to worry for her because I don't think she's being very well taken care of as an artist. There's certain artists need everybody's help to continue to be creative and she's one of them. 

 I'm a tank – I can take care of myself and I don't need anybody's help, but Sinéad O'Connor is a jewel and has a voice like no other – one of the great voices of this century. I worry that we're going to lose her. She has mental health problems and has spoken very openly about them and is really brave and courageous for doing so. She's a great rebellious spirit who was punished for being a rebel in ways that we can barely imagine or conceive of. I have nothing but great admiration for her. 

 She has this extraordinary voice that just does things to my insides. She's a complete iconic gem and touches me in ways that so few can; she's made so many beautiful records. I wish I could sort of throw myself at her feet, because I feel like she finds love, I think, difficult to absorb, and yet she's so deserving of it. This voice comes, again, from a different universe. Its spectacular ability to both emote and communicate. I'm so grateful to her for this record; I just love it and I love hearing her sing so much. She's one of my touchstones, someone I always can rely on to bring magic. 
 When greats die, like when David Bowie died, there's this great outpouring of grief as I know there will be if and when, god forbid, we lose, finally, an artist like Sinéad O'Connor. Yet she's alive now and is capable of producing these spectacular pieces of work, and yet she's treated so brutally by the music industry – an industry who would rather laude in applause an uncreative, stage-schooled kid who's got a great voice but no soul. They'll get more excited about that than they will the possibility of signing a great like Sinéad O'Connor. And therein lies the ludicrousness of the modern music business."

"I heard about them initially via the NME, and Melody Maker– all those great music newspapers that were there back in the day. My best friend was also into them at the same time and we just became strangely obsessed, very quickly. 
 When they first emerged, I was very active in the club scene; I was always going out every night and I just had this incredible connection with that record. That whole scene that came out of Manchester at that time – the Happy Mondays, the Stone Roses – it just blew my mind. It was a sort of brand new sound that really captured my imagination. 

 Every time I hear that record now, I just get flooded with feelings of pure joy and freedom. I became so, so obsessed with Ian Brown that it was bordering on the unhealthy. 

 They're an amazing band and I still have so much love for them. I was lucky enough to meet Mani and Ian over the years, either on television shows or at festivals. I met Mani at this amazing festival in Spain, in Bilbao: I was literally like a love-struck teenager, except I wasn't [laughs], I was an adult. I was so thrilled to meet him and to play on the same festival line-up. 

 It wasn't until much, much later that somebody told me The Stone Roses had actually opened for my very first band – Goodbye Mr Mackenzie – but I had been completely unaware. It felt like great justice that with the success of Garbage that I finally got to be on the same stage and be aware of it at the same time: it felt like an amazing achievement. 

 In some weird turn of events, me and Ian got stuck together backstage in this mad situation – I think it was in Serbia, of all places, during a thunderstorm. The festival that we were all playing had to get postponed until the storm passed. We were all backstage getting drunk together and I could just not believe that that actually happened: I still can't. It just shows you that dreams can come true, so to speak [laughs]."