"White Punks on Dope"

Fast, furious, this one bleeds all over the speakers and then comes back for more. If you know the Tubes, you know you can't take this seriously, since they satirised just about everything they came across in their early days, but Lord, there wasn't much around in 1977 that came close to this for balls-to-the-wall intelligent rock. Two drummers, three guitars and a singer wearing a Bacofoil jockstrap and twelve-inch stack heels, these guys made Alice Cooper look like Moby.

"Surrender"

Why weren't Cheap Trick absolutely huge? They had the nous to take hard rock and splice it to the Beatles (they even did a killer cover of "Magical Mystery Tour"), they had the pretty-boy singer, the wacky guitarist and the doleful drummer thing all perfectly arranged. There are so many terrific Cheap Trick songs, this is just one of the best. Nudge-nudge wink-wink drug/sex references and a fab chorus for "the kids".

"Little Does She Know"

Right up there at the top of the list of forgotten classics, a mini pop-opera that just gets better and better. This one came out around the same as a lot of pub-rock in the lat 70s, and got a little lost among the Nick Lowe/Dave Edmunds/Eddie and the Hot Rods/Dr Feelgood noise, but it's got one foot back in the 60s when songs told a story - sort of a Jilted John thing.

"Downtown Train"

Tom Waits wrote this and no matter how many folks cover it, his sandpaper vocals are the definite take on the song. It's about as close to a straight love song you're going to hear this man perform, full of high-rise sentiment in a low-rent world. Avoid all imitations. I mean..."Outside another yellow moon/has punched a hole in the nighttime"....

"Beasley Street"

It's a poem, it shouldn't even need to be set to a backing track: it's a savage, pustulent, weeping sore of a poem that goes straight to the bottom of the pile of human experience, and it's brilliant. John Cooper Clarke was the Laureate of Thatcher's Britain.

"Don't Come Around Here No More"

Tom Petty's last truly GREAT song. This one is a killer: it's bitter, twisted, the drum/cymbal patter drives gently but firmly, the sitar gives the song a slight left-field feel, and the pain in Tom's voice would squeeze tears from a rock. This one can be handily dedicated to girlfriends who've just dumped you for the nth time.

"All or Nothing"

I don't think there've been many performers able to convey the passion and anguish that the late Steve Marriott had: there's always the feeling that this song is just about to spin out of control. The Small Faces were possibly the greatest British band of the sixties, they got the mix between rock and soul spot on, something only the Manic Street Preachers seem to have these days.

"Love Like Blood"

They liked their apocalypses, did Killing Joke. An unstoppable, insistent bassline, washes of ominous organ and huge glass shards of guitar. Funky, in a nuclear kind of way. It echoes, it cuts and it glooms big-time. The shocker is you can dance to doom!

"Me in Honey"

The clincher here is the insistent, repetitive guitar figure, and B52's Kate Pierson in the background doing this zombified droning, and it really really works. Michael Stipe plaintively, achingly, wailing "what about me??" at the end is one of those perfect hair-raising moments that I always wait for. Not sure why, but this song makes me think of sex. It's a break-up song, but there's a desperate sexual energy here too.

"Come Back! (The Story of the Reds)"

A love song to a principle, if there could be such a thing. There's a massive, everything-and-the-kitchen-sink production and Pete Wylie's got his soul thing going to match the passion of the lyric. There's a fantastic instrumental version of this that you can loop into a never-ending mellow bass background track. Politics never sounded so passionate: "Down by the docks the talking turned/As some are striving to survive the others thrive/Reaching the realm of no return/I don't want charity, just half a chance/ And it's all up to you!".

"All Is Forgiven"

I was just about the biggest Jellyfish fan going. They had this Beach Boys-meets-Stevie Wonder in Todd Rundgren's head vibe which made them incredibly fun to listen to. And they wrote intelligent lyrics which is always a bonus. This one's a full-on almost-metal racket, just about to go out of control, and then they stop for a second to do this amazing "aaaahhhhhhhhh" in perfect harmony. Total bliss. I saw them live in London on their first tour - I don't think they'd seen someone stage-dive before, and they all collapsed laughing when the first punter went flying.

"Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds"

It took me about a minute before I realised what song this is, and then I was thinking: "Damn, that's clever!" I had thought the Hooters were a really typical mid-80s fashion-handicapped band till I heard this. Deconstructing a classic: they slow it down, pick apart the intricate patterns the Beatles built, and it works!

"Desperadoes Under the Eaves"

Warren Zevon was the most under-rated songwriter of the last 30 years, bar none. He came across like this scruffy, mumbling street person who picks over the rubbish in the street and stops passers-by to tell them something that they'll remember the next day and think, "You know, he's absolutely right!" He writes angry songs, sad songs, funny songs and each one sticks in your head. This song has my favorite lyric: "And if California slides into the ocean/Like the mystics and statistics say it will/I predict this motel will be standing/Until I pay my bill." Various Beach Boys sing harmony, which can't be bad......

"One of Those Days In England (Parts 1-10)"

Never mind Roy Harper's an ancient hippy, never mind he's always been slightly the other side of bonkers, this is stunning. Part 1 is, for Roy, a reasonably taut pop song with only eccentric lyrics and a gorgeous chorus: "My love it seems so long away/Since when we both together lay/And yet it's only yesterday/Dreaming of tomorrow/My love, there's no today". Parts 2-10 are a rambling yet focused 20-minute epic, stuffed full of philosophy, sex, violence and Arthurian/Olde England references, a treat for the ears as well as for the brain.

"Movin On Up"

Gospel dance rock by Primal Scream. It's as if Sly Stone got religion, discovered guitars and took downers all at the same time. I like to play this one LOUD. There's a hint of "Sympathy for the Devil" about this one, and those gospel voices and that looping guitar suggest drugs may have been involved.

"Say It Ain't So Joe"

Some of the most wondrous singing ever committed to record. Murray Head's voice goes from a thin, warbly squeak all the way to intense passion. It's probably one of the saddest songs ever written, and one of the most beautiful. Steer clear of Roger Daltrey's pale imitation.

"Sweet Jane"

It's not quite like playing the Velvet Underground original at 33 rpm instead of 45, but it's damn close. For some reason, the Cowboy Junkies get their version to sound like a finished song, while the original feels like it just ran out of steam. There's a groove that you think you can ignore, but it's so insidious and so strong despite sounding like nothing at all. And the voice sends shivers up my spine.

"I Want to See The Bright Lights Tonight"

Richard Thompson's three-minute opera for Friday nights. It's like listening to an ancient folk song about being down the pub. The lyric is so simple and timeless, and is all the better for Linda Thompson's plaintive delivery; "Couple of drunken knights fighting on the floor/Is just the kind of fun Im looking for". I like the version with the brass band, gives the song a sort of marching feel to it.

"The Great Gig In The Sky"

Stately piano, an old man talking about death, gorgeous swooning guitars, and then Clare Torry's feral, orgasmic keening. A song that proves how sex and death are just opposite sides of the same coin. Every time I hear this I just stop whatever I'm doing and let it wash all over me. Pink Floyd may have stopped making fresh music ssome time in the 70s, but this one will live forever.

"I Saw The Light"

Todd Rundgren's mad-genius ultimate three-minute pop song, in which he proved he could do it better than anyone else. So much of what he's done is kind of hard to get into, but once in a while he comes up with something that's just so perfect - plays every instrument, sings all the harmonies, writes the perfect hook. Damn. There's a dash of the Carole King-Brill Building bubblegum thing, and a healthy dollop of George Harrison's guitar from "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" but -- get this! -- it's double-tracked for harmony. Crazy. I know a lot of folks who go for "Hello It's Me" instead, but Todd's trick was to put the bittersweet lyrics against an upbeat riff.