Always one of my favourites from Hair for its cutie-pie quality. I think it encapsulates a certain kind of teenage girl, forward but fickle, scared but full of bravado. And that's very unusual for a song to do; the complexity of pubescent girls is very rarely explored without titillation and / or simplicity.

Sandie, hardly a teen herself at 23, nevertheless gives this a very beautiful interpretation in French. Her accent to me sounds good but what do I know, I can barely manage "la plume de ma tante".

Good accompaniment arranged by her long-time collaborator Ken Woodman.

Swiss post-punk that really cheers me up. Certainly one of my favourite singles of all time, this. Five women (formerly named the corporate-baiting Kleenex) weave ununderstandable lyrics through a backing as tight as anything The Fall have ever produced. I first heard this in a Brighton record shop 5 or so years ago and nearly ripped it off the turntable in my anxiety to have it for my very own.

It's a situation we can all imagine ourselves in - an ex-partner is getting married, we're invited, we get drunk and embarrassing at the reception. Twinkle, aka posh girl Lynn Ripley (who went to school with Camilla Parker-Bowles!) is a lyrical genius and this unbelievably good little number was relegated to the B-side of her final 60's single, Micky.

This song contains one of my favourite song lyrics ever. Pondering why they split up, Twinkle admits it was because she wouldn't have sex with him until they were married and says "it was a woman that he wanted, not a lady". How great is that? I thought she was going to say "...not a girl" first time I heard it and was taken aback by the simple brilliance of that turnaround.

Plus, well an American friend has nicknamed me Twinkle because I'm her favourite Brit-girl and I can live with that.

And I am not just including this because it is from Rosemary's Baby, my very favourite film of all time. Well, maybe I am a little - the opening credits where Polanski guides us over the rooftops of the Bramford while Mia murmurs her "la la la"s sets up perfectly the movie heaven that is to come.

Actors usually make a hash of singing (and, of course, vice versa - Bjork is great in Dancer In The Dark but that's all I can come up with), although I've heard that Cybil Shepherd makes a decent stab. But Mia can't fail to impress with her innocent singing voice, keeping in the character of Rosemary even though she doesn't speak a word in this song. Komeda maintains his usual atmospheric wonder, with the sort of piano based joy that gave such a fruitful relationship with Polanski's films.

Lots of others have had a pop at this, usually with some degree of success as the melody is so strong (discounting a dodgy metal version of it by some chancers whose name escapes me). My favourites are Hugo Montenegro's (on Good Vibrations) and Claudine Longet's lyric-added version, Sleep Safe And Warm.