Nine at a time,
from people who
can defend them.

"From the Peter Saville duochrome front cover, Unknown Pleasures is instantly recognisable. I really started to get into Joy Division after I read a Radiohead interview about how they'd go to parties and change the music to this. "

"Lyrically I never much cared for the smiths until later in my twenties, when everything clicked. This debut is as original for 1980s and introduces them perfectly."

"The Paul Oakenfold produced third album of the Happy Mondays contains their huge hit Step On. Although a drug friendly party stomp, it hides the honest lyrics of Ryder: "Son, I'm thirty,I only went with your mother 'cause she's dirty" "

"A dreamlike evolution of Acid House, and one of the only dance albums I listened to in the 2000s. "

"I should really put their first album in, but this was my first CD of the stone roses - a compilation of the first singles, and including Fools Gold, which doesn't appear on any album. "

"I once heard a great story about the Fall, and how promotors broke into their hotel room and stole back beer they'd stolen from a venue. "

"The one that kicked it off for me. A formidably reckless, cliched guitar debut from the band that hijacked the way we thought about 90s music. Laying waste to Suede, Blur and the london Britpop set. The first band I felt were mine."

"Historical punk from Manchester with the debut of the Buzzcocks hit Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)."

"Technically this might be from my second year—but it all blurs together. I first heard them on a promo CD that came with an issue of NME. Just one track, but it sent me down the rabbit hole. I hunted down everything they’d released. Godspeed became one of the bands I’ve seen live the most—probably around 15 times."

"In my first term, this was probably the most played album. Belle & Sebastian’s second record—and the first widely available one—felt like a quiet rebellion. It stood apart from the indie music of the years just before, with lush strings, piano, and gentler vocals. It also pushed back against the laddish culture of Britpop, offering instead dense literary references and, like Pulp, vivid little vignettes of everyday life."

"Back in school, I was nominally into Bob Dylan—nowhere near the depth I’d reach in later years. Because of that, a guy called James French lent me Way to Blue, an “introduction” to Nick Drake that had been passed down from his older brother. I liked its mellow sound but didn’t fully get it until I bought my own copy at university. Nick Drake is huge now, but back then hardly anyone knew who he was. This album felt like a secret. You’d meet people who knew it, and it was like discovering you were in the same quiet little club."

"This was one of those bands I bought tickets to see on a whim—and they completely floored me. It must’ve been an NME review or some passing comparison to Suede that nudged me to give them a go. After that first gig, I was hooked. I went to see them every time they played in Manchester. That year I remember breaking into Glastonbury and walking to my friend Matt Bis who, upon seeing my Strangelove T-Shirt, ran and jumped on me. He liked them too."

"I’d loved The Bends back in 1995, so in my gap year before university I picked up OK Computer—one of only two albums I’ve ever bought on release day. It took a while to click, but once it did, it hit hard. Years later I read someone call it one of the last great concept albums, and I get it. There’s a sonic cohesion to it, a sense of journey as you move through each track. It really goes somewhere."

"This was how I went to sleep. Most nights, I’d put on Baduizm, let those mellow beats and smoky vocals wash over the room, and drift off before the final track. It felt like a window into Erykah Badu’s world—soulful, poetic, gently political. The album had this light-jazz feel, but it was more than background music. It was grounding, calming, almost ritualistic. Even now, hearing those opening notes takes me right back to that room in halls, the quiet hum of a shared building, and the comfort of music that made everything feel a little softer."

"I struggled not to include Either/Or here, especially since it has “Between the Bars”—one of my top three Elliott Smith songs. But I’m pretty sure I got XO first. It was his major-label debut on DreamWorks, and compared to the raw intimacy of his earlier work, this one felt more complete—brighter, more polished, even poppier in places. It came on the heels of “Miss Misery,” his surprise hit from Good Will Hunting, which led to that unforgettable (and slightly surreal) performance at the Academy Awards. For an artist The Village Voice once said “could be popular—he just doesn’t want to be,” XO felt like a beautiful contradiction: accessible but still deeply personal."

"I once waved at Mercury Rev who were coming into 1998s Glastonbury Festival mentioned in Strangelove above; they waved back. I saw then play there with by friends from school: Matt Bis and Rich 'Rupert' Rundell. Mercury Rev felt like they came out of nowhere for me. But they came out from hurt and desolation of the failure of their 1995 album See You on the Other Side. Its a fractured soulful emotion of failure and letting go with rich strings and arrangements"

"This would be my first foray into both Ambient and the Warp Records form of electronic music, and I probably wasn't very comfortable at first with this washed out, riff-less, lyric-less, music. Yet 25 years on, this is still on rotation on my turntable, much like, it was constantly playing in the evening on my CD player with candles, a lava lamp for lighting as I chilled out and wondered about my future."