"Power in The Darkness"

Wasn't Margaret Thatcher GREAT? A strong-minded political leader, riding roughshod over any and all opposition, destroying the unions, shoring up the forces of conservatism against us students. It was a lot of fun being a paranoid, conspiracy-theory-believing, badge-wearing, meeting-attending lefty back then. Tom Robinson was one of the standard bearers for politics-as-identity, with these great anthems of oppression and victimisation. This one is great for memories of Greenham Common, roll-ups and political correctness before it became mandatory.

"She's A Star"

I should have chosen "Sit Down" really, but I've got sentimental reasons for this choice. It's got such a great chorus that any guy simply isn't going to be able to sing since it's so high, swooping guitars and bittersweet lyrics. James wrote such great songs but never really got the interest they deserved.

"How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live"

You have so much choice with Ry Cooder: he writes funny, he writes blues, he writes low-life and low-rent, he writes Latin, the man's a genius, basically. This is low-rent, and it's beautiful, short and to the point. What I like about Ry is that he's happy to just play; doesn't matter who with; and he does turn up in the strangest places. Any man who can write an ode to "One Meat Ball" has got to be all right.

"Somewhere Only We Know"

Usually, I like to take some time, you know, mull over, consider and think about a band or song before I get all preachy or enthusiastic, but this grabbed me right away. I think Keane are damn good: they've got an unusual schtick, with a keyboard and vocals leading, but the voice reminds me a lot of James (who were great) and the songs are interesting. OK, it's not down with the kids, for sure, but it's intelligent and at times achingly sad. Works for me.

"First/Second/Third Rendezvous"

I'll be frank here: I'm a huge, I mean HUGE, Jean-Michel Jarre fan. I had a classical music upbringing, so his music has always resonated, despite the electronic nature. I thought "Zoolook" was a riot, I loved "Magnetic Fields" to bits, and I even thought "Equinoxe" was damn fine. But Rendezvous 1-3 blew me away. It's like Bach's Toccata & Fugue, a Requiem Mass at 200 mph, a soundtrack to the Day of Judgement, you name it. It's very, very classical, but Jarre throws the kitchen sink of noises and gadgets at this and it turns into some forbidding piece of High Gothic. If you're out driving through the Black Forest or the Dolomites at two in the morning in the pitch black, crank this up and watch out for vampires.

"The Disappointed"

I love XTC. Andy Partridge is right in the middle of the grand tradition of eccentric songwriters (see Kevin Ayers, Roy Harper). I mean, look at those song titles! Making Plans for Nigel? Bonkers. This song may be a bit too polished for some, but I like the lyric: "Once I had no sympathy/For those destroyed and thrown away by life"....

"Hello"

I don't think The Beloved made much impression outside the baggy culture, but this is fab. Apparently it's about Thatcherism, but hey, to me it's a clever list of name-checks with a driving beat. There's a whole host of bands like this that got thrown up in the early 90s - Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, you name it - that seemed to get the idea that you can dance to guitars. Radical notion.

"Political Science"

Despite being American by birth, I can empathise with the feeling of general opprobrium that washes over the US very time Dubya says something. I think Randy Newman can, too. I'm surprised nobody thought of this song before he did, though. It's such a simple song, but it nails the whole reverse-psychology victimisation thing that a lot of Americans have.

"Darling It Hurts"

This is so typical of stuff I like to play very very loud indeed in the car. When I'm in south London being assaulted by the boom-boxes-on-wheels playing rap, I crank songs like this up just to remind people what basic rock and roll sounds like. You can usefully mix this with ZZ Top or Stereophonics and it fits right in. Fab. Bit morally suspect though.

"Nancy Boy"

I can't account for why I love this song. I think Placebo are great, they kick the living crap out of "20th Century Boy" and Brian Molko's got a fantastic voice. It's urgent, nasty and full of life. Maybe it reminds me of what punk used to be like.

"Finishing Touches"

You know when you're so angry you can hardly speak? Someone or something has really rained on your parade and turned the day black..... here's the song you need. You can spit out the lyrics as you sing along: "You can screw everybody I've ever know/But I still won't talk to you on the phone". Warren Zevon R.I.P.

"(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love & Understanding)"

Sometimes the message gets a great medium: sadly Brinsley Schwartz never made it big, but they left this behind. You can make this song happy, uplifting, sad and downright dirge-like, but it should always leave you with a spring in your step.

"Stranger in Blue Suede Shoes"

I'm sure Kevin Ayers isn't from this planet. This reminds me a little of Charlie Daniels' "Uneasy Rider", a shaggy-dog story of a song, but I can't help laughing whenever I hear it. There's a bunch of eccentrics out there writing songs, but this one is right up there with the loopiest.

"You're So Good To Me"

Once in a while, you have to have a song that just celebrates the limits of human emotion. And there's more than a few Beach Boys songs that do this for me - "God Only Knows" is right up there, as is "Caroline, No". But this song is so damn SIMPLE! It's like looking at a David Hockney painting and saying to your buddy: "Shit, *I* could have done that". And the eternal response is "Yeah, but you didn't: *he* did". Which can be kind of depressing once in a while, but then you get caught up in the sheer joy of the song and it doesn't matter any more.

"Eleanor"

Stereotypical 60s right up to the chorus, but "You're my pride and joy, etcetera" is a glorious line.

"Wasted Time" and "The Last Resort"

Definitely not easy listening. You know they're Don Henley songs when you feel you have to listen to the lyrics and get all righteously outraged at some perceived ill. On the other hand, "She came from Providence, the one in Rhode Island" makes me smile.

"Smile"

How can you not like this song? It marches right up to you, grabs you by the scruff of the neck and commands you to jump up and down. You can almost imagine attempting to break the world mass aerobics lesson record with this song. It's got one of those typical Scottish overdubbed-guitar mixes which is just fab and hope-out-of-heartbreak lyrics. Unstoppable.

"Teenage Kicks"

Music doesn't get more direct or all-consuming than this. Sure-fire contender for the Greatest Three-Minute Pop Song Ever. I got to see them last year at the St. Patrick's Day festival on the South Bank and they played this - oh how happy it made me. It's songs like this that probably proved the whole punk ethos; you don't need to be Rick Wakeman or Yes to make great music.

"Women in Chains"

Simple, atmospheric, and totally hypnotic. Set Roland Orzabal's muted scream "Men of stone!" against the warm vocal of Oleta Adams.

"Needle & the Damage Done"

I didn't think Pete Wylie could do much more than shout until I heard this. Soul-seared harmonising on a haunting version of one of Neil Young's best songs. Comes from an obscure anti-drug compilation album but it's nice to hear the song given some welly.