"This is a record that got me through quite a difficult point with The Verve. I was expecting my daughter at the time and we were recording A Storm In Heaven at Sawmills in Cornwall. It was pretty remote. We'd polished off a bottle of wine at dinner and we were smoking quite a lot as well. I just needed to go and get my head together for an hour before I went back to making the record and this was the album I listened to. I see it as a very ecstatic and comforting record. And I've played it to people since and the reaction seems to be, "This is terrifying!" But I really don't see that at all. To me it was just disappearing into something for an hour that was heavenly and ecstatic, which was exactly what I needed. I was conflicted and worrying about my future – whether I was doing the right thing. For a long time I had this feeling that what I was doing was a complete joke and I'd be exposed as a charlatan. There was a general sense of paranoia – that working class thing. Lots of people around me were saying get a proper job. My thinking on the whole thing was that it was all going to end rather badly, which wasn't really conducive to being creative. The album was a freebie from Virgin, and it had a huge comforting effect on me."

"""Ben Vida is a composer and sound artist whose work I really love. This record he did pairing his idiosyncratic electronic voice with percussion is a favourite. I suppose everyone I have given on this list has a strong character. The thing I love about Ben too is that he's so good at synthesising sounds and he has such a strong compositional voice. But his music has such a great sense of humour too – some of the sounds are absurd. They are really high quality, well made objects, but in a lot of ways it's so funny. I'm always excited to listen to anything that Ben does. And it's great to get a chance to work with him too. He's been a long time collaborator. I also sought him out to work with me as a performer on my HIVE project. When I first started the project, it was this installation where there were these five wooden mushroom-like pods. It's a piece for three percussionists and two modular synths. Being a fan of his music and having known him for a couple of years, I asked him to do that with me. And so we ended up touring that around together. I ended up adding some vocals to some records that he did. He did a record called Slipping Control a couple of years ago, that I worked on with him. So it's been a very rich creative relationship."""

"When I was about 15, Danny and Mick [Quinn, Supergrass bassist] lived in this row of cottages that was literally 10 metres from my family house. That was our base; we’d get together in Mick’s living room. I feel very lucky to have been in a band at that time because we were still approaching music – playing live, writing and recording – the way they had since the beginning; it was the last little window where there was only two-inch tape recording, just a few A&R men around who would come to gigs and stuff, no internet, mobile phones. It seems weird now! We were in the house getting stoned and playing loads of records, everything from Pink Floyd to Gong, Muppets albums, Zappa and Patti Smith. A big one for us was Brian Eno’s Here Come The Warm Jets – it was one we were really hooked on. For somebody so experimental he had killer melodies and the way he double-tracked his voice is just really cool. The production and instrumentation are kind of understated and hint at lo-fi, but in an honest way. We had a meeting with him in New York in the early 00s about producing us. I don’t think it was anything creative that was the issue, it was a boring calendar thing from what I remember, but it was great to meet him and have a chat."