Music's secret weapons

 

Everyone has their special album: the one nobody else has heard of, the one to bring out when you want to amaze people. We asked 49 musicians, producers and writers to tell us about their records to be reckoned with. Pick the 50th and you could win £500 worth of music

 

Friday October 6, 2006

The Guardian

 

So What would your 50th best ever 'unknown' album be?

 

 

the list of the 49 is here to show you what they are looking for

Phil Manzanera

(Plays guitar for Roxy Music)

Tim Finn - Before and After (1993)

 

The elder of the Finn brothers has been slightly overshadowed by his younger brother's melodies and turn of phrase. However, Tim is a singular talent in his own right. Starting out as the lead singer with Split Enz, this antipodean with Irish roots is strong on all the essentials: he's a great songwriter and vocalist.

 

 

 

Alexis Taylor

(One part of indie-dancers Hot Chip)

Alex Chilton - Like Flies on Sherbert (1979)

 

It was the first album he made after leaving Big Star and it's generally thought of as a massive disappointment. It's a ramshackle one-take record of some new songs and covers of old country & western and rockabilly songs. It's a rock'n'roll record in the tradition of Tonight's the Night by Neil Young. The guy in the shop when I bought it was like, "You don't want to buy this record," but every track he played sounded like the best thing I'd ever heard. It's not as chaotic as people think. It's very structured and the songs he's covering are great to start with. It sounds like the band don't know the songs very well and he's probably drunk or high but to me it's the best thing he's ever done. It's a party of a record.

 

 

Kieran Hebden

(Makes folk music with laptops as Four Tet)

Gary Davis & His Professor - Untitled (1982)

 

Gary Davis was from New Jersey and he made really raw experimental disco. He was totally out there on his own. Recently, Kenny Dope released a compilation called Chocolate Star: The Very Best of Gary Davis and one disc is this eight-track album. When I play it to people they're like, "Oh my God, what is this?" I don't understand why it's not a total all-time classic. I first heard it on a bootleg but I recently licensed the song The Professor Here for a compilation and he sent me an original copy of the record as a thank you. He's making really insane gangster films in Florida now. He's emailed me saying we should do some live shows

together so next time I go to Florida I'm meeting up with him.

 

 

 

Sway

(Mobo-winning UK rapper)

Suga Free - Street Gospel (1997)

 

He's a real-life pimp from California. Not that I condone pimping - I just like his swagger and his attitude towards life. The whole album's about pimping. I like it because he's got a dark humour that I can relate to. He says stuff like, "Why do girls wear panties? To keep their ankles warm." That's his kind of mentality. Girls hate it. I've lost girlfriends over it. He's actually full-time pimping now. I couldn't even listen to his last album.

 

 

 

Dave Eggers

(Literary trendsetter, postmodern memoirist)

Beulah - The Coast Is Never Clear (2001)

 

There was a band from San Francisco called Beulah that broke up a few years back. They made some great albums, each of them achieving a very Pet Sounds-level of cohesion and beauty - the kind of thing you hear in the Delgados and the Stills' new albums. Beulah used horns and strings and whatever else was necessary to give their song cycles a real shape - can I say "soundscape" without sounding lame? - the kind of thing you'd want headphones for. So I'd nominate any of their records, maybe starting with The Coast is Never Clear. I also recommend the movie Tron, and the eating of radishes raw.

 

 

 

Jean-Jacques Burnel

(Stranglers bassist)

Tomita - Snowflakes Are Dancing (1974)

 

This made me realise that the composer Claude Debussy was the forefather of electronic music. Tomita was a Japanese guy who brought out a synthesiser album of the work of Debussy. It's mindblowing. When the Stranglers were starting out a friend of mine had it. We'd roll a joint and listen to it and think, "Bloody hell, what is this?" Banks of synthesisers, mainframe computers. It still sounds very fresh. When I play it to people they are amazed and go, "Has this just come out?" I say, "No, it's from 1974."

 

 

 

Rob Hawkins

(Sang the Automatic's ubiquitous summer hit, Monster)

People in Planes - As Far As the Eye Can See (2006)

 

They're from Cardiff. I've followed them since they were called Robots in the Sky and were a jazz-rock band. They're basically a spiky pop band now but with a quirky edge. They have a lot of songs about travel and craziness. One of their songs (on this album) was called Talking Heads but wasn't about the band Talking Heads. They renamed it If You Talk Too Much (My Head Will Explode), which probably gives a better idea of what they're singing about.

 

 

 

Corinne Bailey Rae

(Brit pop-soul singer who won two Mobos last month)

Shuggie Otis - Inspiration Information (1975)

 

I first heard this through my trumpet-playing friend Malcolm, who now plays in my band. It's a brilliant, dreamy album of psychedelic soul and Shuggie Otis played everything on it himself. It's full of beautiful sounds and early, simple drum machines like Bontempi organ drums. Shuggie was the son of a bandleader and was a hugely talented guitarist, a real teen prodigy. This is his masterpiece. It's reminds me of Sly & the Family Stone and Curtis Mayfield. There's a great song on it called Outtamihead that's one of my favourite tracks of all time.

 

 

 

Paul Heaton

(It is said that one in seven UK homes contains a copy of the Beautiful South's greatest hits album)

Pepe Deluxe - Super Sound (2001)

 

When I used to have people back to the house, I'd get 10 or 15 people back from the pub and we'd watch my old video compilations from the 80s. I'd tape 30 seconds of a really old film, then some football violence, then Brookside. They look great now! But this is the sort of music that we'd play. Pepe Deluxe are a Finnish band who for some reason record for a Brighton label, Catskills, which is how I heard them. After that they were briefly famous for a Levi's ad. It's the one for those stretchy jeans and people were all against a car in America, and all their bones were going double-jointed. The song for that was Woman in Blue, which is on the album. But the particular song which is a guaranteed floor-filler - although the floor in my house is limited - is Supersound. It starts off with a black American comedian on stage talking about those who like to chill and those who like to get down. Then the drumbeat kicks in. You have to be a bit drunk to appreciate it, to be honest. I don't really get drunk any more. I have the odd shandy. Mind you, I could have two shandies, couldn't I?

 

 

 

Johnny Borrell

(Leader of Razorlight)

Leonard Cohen - Songs from a Room (1969)

 

I had a copy of this album on vinyl and it had warped. Someone told me that if I put it in the oven, it would flatten it out again. So I put it in the oven, but, sadly, nobody told me what temperature, and in the meantime I must have dropped off to sleep because when I woke all I could smell was noxious fumes and my flat was filled with putrid black smoke. Songs from a Room was a melted puddle at the bottom of the oven, and I thought, God almighty, that's the ultimate rock star suicide. I can see the headline now: "Singer dies by fumes from Songs From a Room."

 

 

 

Richard Hawley

(Should have won the Mercury music prize, according to Arctic Monkeys)

The Electric Prunes - Mass in F Minor (1968)

 

The important question is whether we'd be coming back to our house for a big session or a simmer. You don't want to be putting Hendrix on if you've got to go to bed in 10 minutes. But if someone's coming round for an evening and I want to play them something really amazing, it would have to be the Prunes. David Axelrod composed this, but it was played by the skeletal remains of the

 

original Electric Prunes. To play something like this you'd have to be pissed but not too pissed. It straddles a lot of worlds. It's quite edgy: the guitar playing is hardcore, but it's quite beautiful, as well. There aren't any lyrics. It's basically Catholic or religious type songs set to psychedelic music. I'm not religious, I hate hippies, but this is a boss record. It takes you to another place. In the past - obviously - I have got totally out of my box listening to this. It's not like anything I've heard before or since.

 

 

 

Damian 'Jr Gong' Marley

(Reggae superstar, and son of Bob)

The Gladiators - Trench Town Mix Up (1976)

 

My bigger brother Julian introduced me to this. It's roots reggae, but with a lot of harmonies. The lyrics are about a wild variety of topics, but mostly about being mixed-up in gossip and hearsay. There are songs about togetherness and upliftment. I can connect to those lyrics - I've had a lot of trouble with hearsay about my mum - but the main reason the album struck a chord is because of the songs. Being able to relate to those topics is the icing on the cake. Although the track Hey Carol is fairly well-known in Jamaica, people seem to know more about the album in Europe. But I play it to my friends all the time. Two of the original Gladiators are still touring. The first time I toured in Europe we were on a couple of bills together. I went up to them and told them I loved this old album. They seemed very impressed.

 

 

 

Steve Morris

(New Order and Joy Division drummer)

Pete Atkin - A King At Nightfall (1973)

 

I was on holiday in Ibiza in the 1970s with my mum and dad when I came across an advert in Cream magazine for the single off this album, Carnations on the Roof, which was about a funeral. The advert was a psychedelic pencil drawing of a hearse. I was intrigued, so I got the album when I went home. It's a funny record that sounds like it was done in five minutes. I didn't realise at the time that the lyricist, Clive James, was the Clive James, but there's an embarrassing picture on the back of him and Pete Atkin looking like geography teachers. It's singer-songwritery but with a strange atmosphere, and the words are brilliant. A lot of the songs have a post-Vietnam feel; there's a lot of death and decay. But it's balanced by whimsical observations. One song is called Wristwatch for a Drummer, which, even before I was a drummer, I thought was a fantastic, surreal image. The notion was that drummers in bebop bands would have a number of wristwatches in order to perform complicated time signatures. There was never gonna be a hit single, but it's got a vibe. I love it, but it has other uses. Put it on at 2am and watch unwanted guests leave.

 

 

 

Roger McGuinn

(The only Byrd who lasted their whole career)

Bob Gibson and Bob Camp - Bob Gibson and Bob Camp At the Gate of Horn (1961)

 

For me, Gibson and Camp at the Gate of Horn was an incredible musical experience. I was lucky enough to be there when they recorded this great album [at the legendary Chicago folk club of the title] and Bob Gibson had been my inspiration to get into folk music. I've played this for many unsuspecting people and they've always been blown away.

 

 

 

Johnny Marr

(Invented UK indie with the Smiths)

Roy Harper - Stormcock (1971)

 

If ever there was a secret weapon of a record it would be Stormcock by Roy Harper. I don't know why it's such a secret. If anyone thinks it might be a collection of lovely songs by some twee old folkie then they'd be mistaken. It's intense and beautiful and clever: [bowie's] Hunky Dory's big, badder brother. The words from the song Hors d'Oeuvres give you a glimpse: "The critic rubs his tired arse / Scrapes his poor brains, strains and farts / And wields a pen that stops and starts / And thinks in terms of booze and tarts / And sits there playing with his parts / He says I'm much too crude and far too coarse / And he says this singer's just a farce / He's got no healing formulas / He's got no cure-all for our scars / He's got no bra strap for our bras / And our sagging t*ts no longer hold a full house of hearts / And you know what? I don't think this little song's gonna make the charts."

 

 

 

Danny Jones

(Serious songwriter type from McFly)

Kelly Joe Phelps - Roll Away the Stone (1997)

 

It annoys me that stuff like this gets a bit lost. He's one of them guys that sits with a guitar and is great and gives me goosebumps. He's the most talented guitar player I've ever seen. I've got his DVD, and I'm trying to learn slide guitar from it. This LP is just him with a guitar - he starts off with a slide bit and then next it'll be a picking song, and then he'll go back to slide. It gets even more epic when you've had a few drinks - you start crying.

 

 

 

Chrissie Hynde

(Nearly 30 years a Pretender)

Andy Pratt - Andy Pratt (1973)

 

I listened to this endlessly before I left [the US], but when I came here in May 1973, I never heard it again. Over the years, I used to ask my mate: "Whatever happened to that Andy Pratt album?" And a couple of weeks ago I received a copy of it that she'd found somewhere. We knew nothing about him, so he was a mystery man. But he was very, very musical, and played all the instruments. He sang in a falsetto voice and took female points a lot. He said: "I'll take all you spoiled young hippies," which I loved, because we were hippies. I haven't wanted to listen to much recently and this has really cheered me up.

 

 

 

Tim Westwood

(Radio's Mr Hip-Hop)

The Diplomats - Diplomatic Immunity (2003)

 

This album was straight, grimy, street-corner, beat-you-in-the-head, bareknuckle hip-hop. A street-corner classic that defined New York hip-hop in 2003. Where 50 Cent was representing gangsta rap to the world, the Diplomats were no 1 in the street. The album told the life story of the uptown hustlers from Harlem rocking their distinctive long white T-shirts and red bandannas, representing the arrival of the Blood gang into New York. I've never DJed where the Dipset anthem with its chorus - "I sit at home, hand on my chrome, listening to gangsta music" - hasn't ripped the party.

 

 

Romeo Stoddart

(The Magic Number who plays guitar and sings)

Judee Sill - Heart Food (1973)

 

Finding this record is like discovering a beautiful artifact that we know about, and those that do might not want to pass on the knowledge because it is so precious to them, and strangers might ruin its power. Heart Food could never be for mass consumption. The impossible beauty of these songs and the idealism at the heart of them are in such contrast to the shocking fact of her life, sometimes having to turn tricks for drugs. When Judee Sill died in 1979, no one knew who she was and she was deep in the "dark peace" which she called heroin addiction.

 

 

 

Patrick Neate

(Jazz- and soul- loving novelist)

Lewis Taylor - Lewis Taylor (1996)

 

This album was given to me by the Zimbabwean singer Netsayi in the late 1990s. She didn't have the cover and this was the days before Googling so I had nothing to go on but the music. And what music! Complex and introspective, suffused with pain and loss, surely it's the sound of a heart breaking. The soul vocal made me picture Lewis coming from the same stable as Maxwell and D'Angelo, say, albeit with a compositional brilliance I hadn't heard since Marvin Gaye. It was some surprise, therefore, to discover he was a thirtysomething, reformed prog rocker from north London. As far as I understand, Island signed him as "the next Simply Red" but Lewis refused to play ball. Even record company incompetence, however, cannot explain why he hasn't reached the audience he deserves. I am often asked what I listened to while writing my jazz-rich novel Twelve Bar Blues. Sometimes I claim it was all obscure blues. But the truth is I was listening to Lewis; nothing else conjured so well the emotional truth of a crushed but ever hopeful spirit.

 

 

 

Soweto Kinch

(Keeping the UK jazz flame burning)

Gary Bartz - Follow the Medicine Man (1972)

 

This album is truly pioneering and still relevant today. I like to play Whasaname? to people and play a little guess the year game. They usually place it in the late 1990s, or this decade - but it was actually recorded in 1972.

 

 

 

Lauren Laverne

(TV and radio's "face of indie")

James Yorkston & the Athletes - Moving Up Country (2002)

 

Being proper caravan-dwelling hippies in their youth, my parents raised me on a somewhat wholemeal musical diet. As a result I've always been a closet folkie at heart. This album brought my folked-up tendencies out into the open and it amazes me when people don't own it because, quite simply, your record collection is undressed without it. Sparkling, spare, sweet, made-in-a-shed folk, with a dash of rueful Scots humour to make sure it never gets too saccharine. Anyone who has been put off by the po-faced real-ale element of the folk scene should get a copy. When Mr Laverne played me this album for the first time, I decided I could probably fall in love with him. We played it at our wedding.

 

 

 

 

Rick Rubin

(Producer who invented the Def Jam sound and reinvented Johnny Cash)

Bonnie "Prince" Billy & Matt Sweeney - Superwolf (2005)

 

There's a recent record that I think is great and not many people have heard, and that's the Superwolf album - Will Oldham and Matt Sweeney. I listen to it a lot - there's so many different things going on in it. It's unclassifiable; it's quiet and loud. When I listen to it, it moves me. It seems so deep, so real, and such a moment is created and you really feel it.

 

 

 

George Pelecanos

(Music-referencing Washington, DC novelist)

The Beastie Boys - The In Sound From Way Out! (1996)

 

I put this on at backyard barbecues and always get the question, "Who is this?" In Sound is 12 instrumental tracks performed by the Boys (and guests), a chill-out mood enhancer that takes you back to the blaxploitation era and moves you forward, all at once. Great for driving, perfect through the earbuds, an indispensable record.

 

 

 

John Taylor

(Duran Duran's still-reigning heartthrob)

Mick Ronson - Slaughter on 10th Avenue (1974)

 

He was David Bowie's guitar player in the Spiders from Mars, but after Bowie's "retirement" their management decided to launch Mick as a solo star, and this was first solo album. It's a very complex album, very deep and unusual - the most unusual album to have come out of glam rock - and an indispensable companion to Ziggy Stardust. Mick was one of the great British guitarists and he brought something amazing to everything he worked on.

 

 

 

Jake Shears

(No 1 in the albums and singles charts with Scissor Sisters)

Van Dyke Parks - Jump! (1984)

 

It's his concept album inspired by the Uncle Remus tales from Song of the South. He's a genius arranger, producer, singer, songwriter. He also worked on Brian Wilson's Smile. Jump is a truly timeless record. It came out in 1984 but sounds like it could have been made yesterday or 80 years ago.

 

 

 

Nelly Furtado

(Portuguese-Canadian R&B singer)

Tom Ze - Com Defecto de Fabricacao (Fabrication Defect) (1998)

 

Tom is Brazilian and was one of the founding members of the Tropicalia movement. He is a master of vocal percussion and a true sound experimentalist. He created his own instruments for this record which create unique sounds. I played Tom Ze to Pharrell Williams because it is so crazy and he needed to hear it. If you haven't opened up to world music then this album is a really good introduction.

 

 

 

Tim Rice-Oxley

(Keane's piano player and songwriter)

Yann Tiersen - Le Phare (1998)

 

If I've got my facts right, he's a Dutch musician who lives and works in Paris. His music does sound incredibly French, and has a strong flavour of the chanson tradition, full of hazy grief, regret and psychological darkness. Part of what I love about him is his inventiveness with sound and musical instruments - he'll use a xylophone, a violin and a typewriter in the same song. I was lucky enough to see him play a few years ago, and it was one of the most inspiring gigs I've witnessed. He's such an instinctive musician. He was leaping from piano to accordion to cello, singing too, all while constantly smoking Gauloises and working his way through a bottle of wine.

 

 

 

Alex Kapranos

(former Guardian food writer, Franz Ferdinand's singer)

Georges Brassens - Les Amoureux Des Bancs Publics (1954)

 

My French is pretty c**p, but I think it means "the lovers on the park benches". He was a poetic anarchist with the gentlest anti-establishment voice ever recorded. Even if you can't appreciate the words, the melodies are simple and beautiful. The title song from the album is about young lovers, kissing on a park bench, talking about what they'll do when they are older and have everything they want, not realising that when they are older all they will long for is that time on the park bench when they had nothing but each other. Brassens' music evolved in an environment completely separate from that which we are used to, so sounds alien and familiar simultaneously. He is both a national outcast and hero in France, yet most of us don't know him on this side of the channel. His lyrics were more subversive than Dylan or the Sex Pistols and he wrote better tunes than either.

 

 

 

Don Henley

(Maker of America's biggest selling record ever, with the Eagles)

The Dillards - Wheatstraw Suite (1968)

 

After all these years it still holds a certain spiritual quality for me. A very seductive album - though not by any stretch of the imagination a seducing album - it was very influential on me and probably anybody who heard it. They were a completely different breed: the first long-haired, pot-smoking, bluegrass group; southern boys who mixed bluegrass, folk, rock and dry comedy and did songs by Tim Hardin and the Beatles. I recently rediscovered it on CD and I play it in the car when I'm driving my kids. It's happy music, conjuring up my days in Texas, before I came to California.

 

 

 

Isobel Campbell

(Mercury-nominated songwriter, and former Belle & Sebastian muse and musician)

John Phillips - The Wolfking of LA (1969)

 

It was given to me as a gift from a friend and I adored it immediately without knowing too much about the ins or outs of things - I'm not even sure I knew it was the bloke from the Mamas and the Papas. I love the feel of it; lost, lazy-hazy Americana. His voice sounds so broken and fragile, yet it's an honest voice and that is why I find it so appealing; the steel guitar weeps. The album sleeve is identical to Bob Dylan's Desire and friends and I have often wondered who copied who. In its day, Wolfking of LA was a commercial flop which is a bit of a shame. As much as the music appeals to me greatly, I also think of this record as an artefact reflecting the artistic zeitgeist, adorned as it is with tales of easy riders and midnight cowboys.

 

 

 

Zoe Rahman

(Mercury-nominated jazz singer)

Monty Alexander - Yard Movement (1995)

 

People I've played this album to in the past (especially so-called "ordinary" people, even those who claim to "hate jazz") have really liked this album for its great grooves, energy and immediately accessible melodies.

 

 

 

Stuart Maconie

(Writer, broadcaster, talking head on clip shows)

The Triffids - Calenture (1987)

 

The Triffids came from Perth, a city that's a thousand miles from the nearest settlement. You can hear that wildness and isolation in their music, which in any sanely ordered world would occupy the space now claimed by Coldplay and U2. This neglected gem proved that they could have been contenders. Produced in grandiose 80s vernacular by Gil Norton, it was supposed to be their breakthrough album. Trick of the Light was even used as a Neighbours wedding song. Purists and critics don't rate it because its too slick, but that's the sort of thing purists and critics have to say and it needn't detain us. This is epic music of heartbreak, longing and joy. The late David McComb's stunning songs are shot through with melancholy and madness. Indeed, Calenture is the name of a sailors' malaise: believing the ocean is a green field, they throw themselves overboard.

 

 

 

Chris Geddes

(Belle & Sebastian's keyboard player)

The Heptones - On Top (1970)

 

We lived down in London for a while when we were working on Dear Catastrophe Waitress. It was summer, and the weather was gorgeous for weeks. We picked this up one day and after that we hardly listened to anything else. Everything about it seemed perfect, from the cover shot of them wearing matching jackets but no socks, to the mixture of social consciousness and romance in the lyrics. We'd listen to it first thing in the morning and last thing at night. These days, I'll stick it on if folk end up at the flat and hope that by listening to it we'll become better people.

 

 

 

Jeremy Vine

(Brings hard news rigour and postpunk gloom to Radio 2)

Magazine - The Correct Use of Soap (1980)

 

Magazine never got the acclaim they deserved, but somehow, as they unravelled, they gave it one last heave, and this is the extraordinary result. One song starts with the line: "Your clean, clear-eyed, clever, level-headed little brother says he'll put all the screws on your newest lover." It's full of introspection and the best sort of self-loathing, but leavened with the musical confidence, literary cheek and humour that later became the trademark of the Smiths. You Never Knew Me is the unmissable track. I always puzzled about the title, but now I think it's Devoto's way of saying the best use of detergent is to cleanse the heart of all emotion. Inspirational.

 

 

 

Eugene Hutz

(Leader of New York's leading eastern European Gypsy punk band, Gogol Bordello)

Lautari de Clejani (Taraf de Haïdouks) - Musiques des Tziganes de Roumanie (1991)

 

This is the rawest, most shamanistic recording of a four-piece traditional Gypsy band. Later on, the people on it became famous as Taraf de Haïdouks, but this is before anyone ****ing heard about them. Now there's a formula for gypsy music - it's happy party music - but if you play this record you'll see it's a lot about desperation. Just like the Stooges' Funhouse is the best rock album that ever was, this is the Funhouse of gypsy music. Together with Bela Bartok, it outlined my whole thinking. I usually have three or four copies of it because I like to give it to people.

 

 

 

Alan McGee

(Indie mogul, "the man who discovered Oasis")

The Sound - Jeopardy (1980)

 

This band should have been the Bunnymen. They destroy U2. They even gave Joy Division a run for their money. The album got a fair bit of critical acclaim in the early 80s but they were commercially ignored everywhere bar Holland. Ironically, if the record came out now, their sound would own 2006; all that Interpol, post-punk stuff. It's got five or six classic rock songs on it - it should have been the sound of a generation, they should have been the band of a generation. The lead singer jumped in front of a train in 1999 - I think one of the reasons was because he never got his props. It's sad it ended the way it all did.

 

 

 

Pete Wareham

(Experimental jazzer with Acoustic Ladyland)

James White and the Blacks - Off White (1979)

 

This is a classic by the man also known as James Chance. Crazy, free-improv alto saxophone meets James Brown, with an acerbic vocal delivery, much like getting your throat slit by an eloquent teddy boy in the funkiest nightclub you could imagine. A dangerous and seminal album.

 

 

 

Andrew Weatherall

(DJ and producer who brought rock and dance together)

James Luther Dickinson - Dixie Fried (1972)

 

Bobby Gillespie recommended this to me and I searched for it for years. He was a mover and shaker at Sun records and this is steeped in Memphis rock'n'roll history. Anyone whose reasons to live include rock'n'roll, country, soul and blues will like this. It sounds quite standard at first but there are weird twists in the production that are almost psychedelic. If anyone on hearing O How She Dances doesn't fall to their knees and praise Jah, I'll refund their money. I met Dickinson and he signed a book for me with the legend: "If you're not on the edge, you're taking up too much room."

 

 

 

Vashti Bunyan

(Folk icon who was silent for decades but reappeared recently)

JJ Cale - Naturally (1971)

 

I completely cut myself off from music when my first album, Just Another Diamond Day, failed in 1970. I didn't have a radio or a record player or anything. But about 1973, I had a friend who, whenever I visited him, was always playing wonderful music, and JJ Cale's first album was often on. Twenty years later we got together and and he's been re-educating me about all the music I missed. But JJ Cale's the thing I always come back to - the simplicity of the songs, the fact he can do so much with so little. You can hear the first few bars and you always know it's him. I think that's the key with a lot of art - painters, writers, whatever: if you can read a sentence or see a brush stroke and you know who it is.

 

 

 

Nick Hornby

(Novelist, pop and football obsessive)

Olu Dara - In the World: From Natchez to New York (1998)

 

The only thing I don't like about In the World: From Natchez to New York is that whenever I play it, people want to know what it is, and write down the title, and vow to order it off Amazon as soon as they get home. So what's wrong with it that makes it so unexceptionable? Just about everything else I might choose to listen to is inevitably going to alienate at least one person in the room, if it's worth its salt. You may know Olu Dara as the father of the rapper Nas, and from Nas's brilliant hip-hop 12-bar, Bridging the Gap; you may even know him as a free jazzer. In The World, however, is a sunny and (regrettably) accessible blend of old-style R&B, blues, African and Latin American beats, packed full of tunes and stories, delivered with enormous expertise and charm. This charm is blindingly obvious, and yet, at the same time, there's nothing quite like it. Part of its appeal, I suspect, is it delivers roots music without beardy gravity; it's also a relatively contemporary album by a black American artist that won't frighten the horses, or music fans over the age of 40 who are beginning to feel it all slipping away. I'm damning it with faint praise, and I don't mean to - it never fails to lift the spirits, and its effortless musicality is an enduring joy. But when your father-in-law expresses an interest, as mine once did, then you have every right to feel a little troubled.

 

 

 

Jonathan More

(Early adopter of dance music technology with Coldcut)

Terry Stamp - Fatsticks (1975)

 

I found this record in a junk shop a long time ago and just liked the look of it. He was in a band called Third World War, who I thought were quite influential on punk. They had a political philosophy that was similar in some respects to Coldcut's. This isn't as political as Third World War. It's quite an affectionate, friendly record; it has that amiable quality Ian Dury had. It's a rock record but it's very funky and it's got some wonderful songs. Honky Honda's one of my favourites; anyone who writes a song about Honda motorbikes has to be decent.

 

 

 

Neil Tennant

(Pet Shop Boy)

Colin Blunstone - One Year (1971)

 

I got this album because I saw him on the Old Grey Whistle Test performing with a string quartet. I've always liked string quartets, as you can probably tell from Pet Shop Boys records. The big hit was Say You Don't Mind. It's a very energetic song but it's driven by the strings and that's unusual in pop. He has a very delicate voice: I think he's the missing link between Dusty Springfield and Nick Drake. It's an incredibly romantic album, which is why it's been with me such a long time. Nick Drake, who was his contemporary, has had his reputation rehabilitated and I'm surprised that hasn't happened with this album. It is a genuine underrated classic. It's got a lot of the great songwriters of the time, like Rod Argent, Mike d'Abo, Denny Laine and Tim Hardin. I met Hardin once when I worked at Marvel Comics. He wanted to write a comic book. Then he borrowed £5 off me and left. He died owing me £5.

 

 

 

Rob Da Bank

(Keeping things edgy at Radio 1)

Cymande - Second Time Round (1973)

 

I moved to London aged 19 from Southampton and settled in New Cross, which was like an alien environment. I fell in with these two guys, and we used to drive around to a lot of their mates' places listening to soul and funk. I used to wait in the back and later found out they were not just very sociable guys but were in fact dealing crack. I was very naive back then but one thing I did hear a lot in that car was this Cymande album. I knew the basic funk acts like James Brown and Maceo but this group were British. When mates visited I'd always play them this album, it's a real gem. If they'd been American they would have been sampled by Jay-Z and 50 Cent by now.

 

 

 

Sean Rowley

(Responsible for Guilty Pleasures)

Dion - Born to Be With You (1975)

 

If singers employed the Lee Strasberg method Dion would have been Brando. To inhabit a song is a gift given to few performers, and for me Dion is the master. This was produced by Phil Spector and its shadow looms across contemporary music from Spiritualized to Primal Scream. As for me and my humble opinion, the greatest singer joined the greatest producer in the studio and made the greatest record ever.

 

 

 

Emily Eavis

(Glastonbury's heir)

Micah P Hinson - Micah P Hinson & the Gospel of Progress (2004)

 

His voice is really like nothing you've ever heard, somewhere between Smog's Bill Callahan and Shane MacGowan. It's a very hypnotic album, quite melancholic but still uplifting, and his songs are like hymns. He'd be the perfect person to play Glastonbury on the John Peel stage, late at night.

 

 

 

Ed Simons

(Half of the Chemical Brothers)

M Craft - I Can See It All Tonight (2004)

 

I usually dig out old records when I have friends round so I'm going to choose a recent favourite. I came across M Craft as I was attracted to the beautiful artwork for the single On the 389. The album is really beautiful, a good cosmic record. Martin Craft is a singer- songwriter from Australia and this is a perfect mood piece across just six tracks. It's very soothing and swings easily throughout. It's also unusual to be able to dance to a record which has really nice words.

 

 

 

Erol Alkan

(DJ and producer)

Heart - Dreamboat Annie (1976)

 

I came across this through the Smiths. I read that Johnny Marr was a fan and that the guitar riff for Bigmouth Strikes Again had been inspired by a track called Crazy on You. I checked that track out and was blown away by it, so I got the album. It's a brilliant record and a bizarre amalgamation of folk with smatterings of disco. When I approached my late 20s - and I hate to say this - I came to appreciate the level of musicianship on this album. It was long before their hair metal days. It's a record I like to play people when they visit: "Can you guess who this is?"

 

 

 

James Dean Bradfield

(Manic Street Preacher)

Simple Minds - Empires and Dance (1980)

 

I bought it because I heard [the song] I Travel on an old Radio 1 session and I couldn't reconcile it with the band that had done Don't You Forget About Me. You've got this vaguely soul voice making a cold, glacial, European album. There's hardly any machinery on it. It's one of the truly futurist organic records, cold-sounding but engaged - a massive contradiction but it works. It has the courage of its convictions from the first track to the last. I tried referencing it so many times on The Holy Bible and it didn't work out. You can't understand what Simple Minds were after they made this or what they were before they made it - it came out of nowhere. It's like if somebody saw Robert De Niro in The Fan, they'd never assume he'd made Taxi Driver. It really is one of the lost British albums but nobody will ever quote it because they can't stand the idea of a fashionable Simple Minds record.

 

 

 

Compiled by: Dorian Lynskey, Caroline Sullivan, John Burgess, Dave Simpson, Alexis Petridis, Leonie Cooper, Sophie Heawood, Sylvie Simmons, John L Waters, Michael Hann and Angus Batey

 

Name the 50th secret weapon and win a £500 HMV gift card!

 

http://arts.guardian.co.uk/filmandmusic/st...1888086,00.html