"What can you say? He's Nick Cave. He belongs in this mysterious closet. I love that he's so impossible to categorise. I remember hearing his music for the first time when I was 15 or 16, and having no idea what to make of him. I almost still don't. He belongs in a genre unto himself. The one thing I love so much about Nick Cave is that he's a master craftsman. He considers himself a writer, and you can really hear it in his songs in a way that's highly unusual. The way he crafts a song is like no other. He makes no bones about the fact that he's putting a certain kind of poetry to a certain kind of music in a way that just isn't really done nowadays. And he's an incredible performer. There are artists and there are songs, but then there are albums as albums, that really stand up as an entire record. Let Love In, for me, works as an entire record from the moment it opens to the moment it closes. But it also was the time. If I loved a band and they had an album that came out in the late 80s, early 90s, it was probably just more influential, because it was hitting me at a time that was so important. I actually got to meet him last year in Australia. I'd covered 'Ship Song' on a record of Australian songs, so I got to get Nick Cave transmission. Now I just need to get Robert Smith transmission and I'll have the holy trinity."

"I suppose this is another more upbeat song. I feel like I can remember it from one of those Best of the ‘80s compilations from when I was a teenager, but unlike a lot of the songs from that era, it has a lot of real lived experience and heart to it. “Although these songs are in chronological order, this had an influence on me when we were touring with Klaxons in 2007. At the end of the tour I stayed in New York to write on my own for a few weeks. I’d read that Mike Scott from The Waterboys was living on the East Side, and I would walk around that area every day listening to “The Whole of the Moon” hoping I’d bump into him. Which I never did, unfortunately. “I love the story behind this track. Essentially, one night Mike Scott had been out drinking and he met this girl. As he walked her back to her apartment, he told her he was a songwriter and she said “Well, then write me a song now.” He looked up at the sky and there was a half crescent of the moon, and he wrote the first half of this song on the walk home, just to impress this girl. I was so blown away by the romance of that. “I would sit on this bench at a dog park and think ‘How do I summon that greatness in a song.’ A few days before I flew home, I wrote “Two Doors Down”, sat on that bench in that dog park. And I feel I’ve got Mike Scott to thank for that."

"I heard this record in Minus Zero record shop in Portobello Road - it was an old shop that had been there since the early 70s or early 80s, and it stocked a lot of Bob Dylan, Beatles and The Beach Boys. Kind of power-pop albums. I used to go in there to buy Big Star and Big Star-related records, and it was the best place in the UK where I could do that. I'd gotten all the Big Star that I really needed in my life, but I wanted more Alex Chilton records. I asked the store to play me Like Flies On Sherbert. They put it on after saying it was rubbish, and the first thing I heard was the sound of tape stopping and re-starting; the record is full of lots of those sounds. It's a pretty lo-fi, raggedy-sounding record in terms of the production and the performances. It just sounded really unlike anything else I've ever heard before. Really loose and groovy. It's full of life - like a punk record with soul. You can tell that they were probably very high and drunk while they were making it - mistakes and everything are included in it. That's why I made a second About Group record called Start And Complete with Charles Hayward, Pat Thomas and John Coxon, in one day without anyone knowing the songs before we played them. I wanted to capture spontaneity. The record I made with About Group is much softer than this, as my style is very different, but this album is definitely an inspiration on me."

"I love the orchestration, I love the sentiment, [Thom Yorke] is going through a peaceful patch on that record. He sounds like for the first time he is crooning to you a little bit, like he is a little more comfortable. He is still dealing with huge social issues in his lyrics and very deeply personal experiences as well. On 'Morning Bell' he sings: ""Where'd you park the car?"" That's the conversation your parents have when they are newly split up. They still have to share a vehicle, that is a conversation that they have to have. If you're a child of the '80s, nowadays everybody's got their own car, but that was the only communication my parents had after about six months. And when I heard it singing out in the middle of his lyrics, I just knew for sure that's what he was talking about. So, beautiful, overarching. Sometimes Thom's lyrics are like being berated. It's like being shouted at, and then at other times, he seems to pull a rainbow out of the sludge out of nowhere. That record, it could have been any of them, but that's the one I consider mine, in the same way I feel a sense of ownership of those Talk Talk records. That's the Radiohead album that's given me the most joy. It can take you back to a sad time in your life, and I think that's what good music does as well. You know it brings you forward to the present, but also reminds you of your emotional connection to something in the past. And I think if an album can do that, it's worked, basically."