"I'd rather introduce people to some albums that don't get enough credit"

Given his book Perfect Sound Whatever and associated podcast, a personal crusade to convince the world that 2016 was the best ever year for music, it was only ever a matter of time before the Quietus invited James Acaster to share his Baker's Dozen.

His selection is fascinating in itself, featuring as it does albums by everyone from Songs: Ohia, Joanna Newsom and Of Montreal to Madvillain, J Dilla and Brazilian singer Elza Soares (whose A Mulher Do Fim Do Mundo he really sells). But it's the way he talks about the chosen records - and his general views on music - that genuinely struck a chord.

I know, for instance, what he means when (with respect to Jim Sullivan's UFO) he says "I don't listen to much country music, but whenever stuff is inspired by country music and mixes it with some genres that are a bit more to my taste, that can become my favourite album quite quickly". After all, I'm a huge Angel Olsen fan.

I too had an emo phase around the turn of the millennium and (for a brief while) felt that Get Up Kids' Something To Write Home About was indeed something to write home about. He admits that "[t]here's a lot of other stuff I got into around that time that I do feel cringey about that I wouldn't be able to go back to, because it's too on the nose with its emotive and earnest lyrics". To be honest, that's pretty much how I feel about this record now, as well as the likes of Very Emergency by The Promise Ring, but at the time it really mattered.

dEUS' The Ideal Crash prompts him to make the point that "[e]xperimenting and eventually finding something new and amazing is hard, but staying within the confines of a genre and still being able to be better than everyone else and create an album that stands the test of time because your songwriting and your musicianship is that good almost boggles my brain more". Very true. (And why did I buy the Belgians' 'Sister Dew' single and never follow up by listening to the album?)

Best of all, though, is his assessment of Fiery Furnaces' mad, maddening magnum opus Blueberry Boat, which absolutely nails what makes it such a remarkable record - the way it combines "their far-fetched absurdities and the relatable side of them", and the way this split personality is shaped by the creative tension between Matthew Friedberger's flights of fancy and sister Eleanor's more grounded pop sensibility.

And that's not even to mention the fact that At The Drive-In's Relationship Of Command is one of his favourite albums...