"I've been a fan of his since the start, when I heard ‘Didgeridoo'... At our age it was an interesting time, because it was the start of dance culture as we know it, but also I was young enough when I first heard it that I didn't differentiate between hearing a Mary Chain song or hearing an Orb song or a KLF song or a Loop song. I guess of all the bands or musicians that I heard around that first wave of electronic music, I think Richard James is the guy that's continued and kept a high standard and evolved what he did. I mean, that Richard D James record, if you went and listened to half of the brand new IDM vomit they'd be shitty copies of that. What makes his music is so special is that as well as being amazing at concocting interesting sounds and rhythms, he's also musically always doing something brilliant. The piano songs on the Drukqs album are unbelievable. Talking about that, it's completely irrelevant to this, but the most annoyed I've ever got at a music review is the review of Drukqs in Uncut where the journalist said there's no point in making solo piano music because you'd never do anything as good as Satie or Chopin. Well let's just fucking go home then! But anyway. To be able to marry the playfulness with the beauty and the melancholic element, that's just incredible."

"""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."""

"Revelatory meditations on a classic FM synth sounds. The end of an era and the beginning of one. I came to his music maybe later in my life, and he's one of those guys where you just slap your head and go "Oh man, how have I not known about this guy?" Only in the last couple of years have I approached him. He does micro-electronic stuff, kind of like preceded a lot of labels that have since flourished with that, like Raster-Noton and Editions Mego. What he's done - and I think this must be a running theme of things that I like – as far as liberating an idea from its historical context. Like Feldman and Varese, it's him taking these dance sounds, these FM synth sounds that you hear in techno even, and isolating them, turning them into this simple object which is hanging on your wall. And in doing so, it's reduced to something so pure that it's profound and it's absurd. And it's powerful and funny. It's so simple, the idea behind it. Production-wise, he has his own methodology that I'm not too sure about. It's not basic, but it's so obvious in its clarity, that it makes you ask, "How has someone not done this already?" So profound in a way. It's so simple, this idea. It's literally one pulsing sound. You understand it, but you are thinking "How do I listen to this? What is it for?""