"I love European cinema. I made a proviso that you have to watch it with the Swedish subtitles on, not dubbed in American. It’s terrible when it’s dubbed in American. It’s really a drama. It’s the story of a young boy who meets a young girl who just happens to be a vampire. But the editing, the way they show the bleakness of the world, the way that they show a period in time which is nondescript — they say it’s the modern world, but it feels like the modern world that has gone by somehow. Very beautiful part of the world, it’s sterile and full of snow. I watched that one night; a friend recommended it to me. I was in my house on my own, at night, was very scared of it, and fell in love with it. I’m not a huge fan of horror movies, to be fair. There’s no reason for me to bring that into my life, that horror element. But with Let the Right One In, it was worth it because the performances and the story were both so brilliant."

"This is my childhood in a nutshell. I grew up in a very instrumental house, full of musicians, and this was religious for us. Billy Cobham, Tony Williams, these were the pillars my dad raised us on. Total Eclipse, though… My dad had that album on vinyl, but me and my older brother we weren't allowed to touch the record player unless one of my parents were there. But my dad would go to work, and we would wait until he left and then we would put the record on. We would do all kinds of stupid stuff that kids do when they're playing vinyl; messing with the record, warping it, trying to scratch if it's hip hop, but we were really cautious not to literally put scratches in my dad's vinyl. We would listen to Billy Cobham, and my older brother was a drummer, so he was listening to this with a lot of intent. We were really young, and on that album the level of musicianship is absolutely amazing. It's one of those things that also inspired me to play my instrument the way I play."

"After Adrian and I broke up, and I moved into my new house, I bought myself a record player. Or, actually, if either of my kids are reading this, Father Christmas bought it for me [laughs]. Not that I think they'd be reading The Quietus yet – they're six and eight – but start them young. My mum brought me some records, and this is one she used to love when I was really small, although I only vaguely remembered it. I've always loved Maddy Prior and June Tabor's voices, though – do you know June Tabor's Abyssinians? That's an amazing record, full of depth and darkness, both in the singing, and the material. But listening to this…it made me think I'm sure it subsconsciously affected the way I make music. The way the women's voices interweave to tell their stories reminds me very much of the way Becky and I sing together, although she didn't remember the record at all! The band's also fantastic, including Martin Carthy, Nic Jones and Andy Irvine. The effect of this record on me is what I'd love to do every time making music."

"This is quite a diverse one compared to the rest of them. I'm pretty sure it was my first introduction to dance music full stop. Somehow my brother ended up with it (he was four years older so a lot of stuff I like came through him). He came along with this album called K-Klass, and I didn't even know how to say it. When I first listened to it, I didn't understand how it was made or what it was or what I was listening to. It was really just early 90s standard dance music with house vocals. I remember dancing to it with my sisters and my parents not really getting it. And so I thought, ""Well if my parents don't get it, maybe this is the cool new thing!"" I was only about 7, a chubby little kid dancing around to this stupid music. But it gave me a sense of something I had never felt, which was a sense of ownership of music. These sounds were truly new, my parents didn't have them and we did. It spurred me into more electronic music as a kid."