"He's a Swedish multi-disciplinary artist. I chose that to represent all of my friends, composers and people that I know who make extraordinary experimental work. On one hand it is a drone, and it's a really fantastic drone. It's a copper pipe on a pillar driven by it's own amplification - it's a fantastic sound. The other part is a reading of an autopsy of a Dutch queen when she dies. It's an old autopsy so it's got this great formality: it talks about the 'colouration' of the skin. The poetry is in the age of the language. It's something that's absolutely fascinating but it also has no relevance, all it is is about it. It's a composition, it's a piece of imagination. One could mention 'The Gift' by The Velvet Underground. I remember the first time hearing that and it was split in stereo and thinking: 'God that's extraordinary'. Why do I not always sing my own lyrics? It seems to fit better to me. It's the proof that sometimes it's a good idea not to think about things too carefully. The way things roll is sometimes good. It's a funny thing to Wire, it's not what we thought about, it was a practical solution to a time when we were in need of writing material. I never learned to play the guitar, and it turned out to be an incredible device, this distancing, which threw it into interesting spaces. It gives it a theatrical quality that's not drama theatrical, but theatrical in the same way as you'd have with someone like Pinter, where you'd have very normal speech but because of the context that you put things into, suddenly you have something that's quite peculiar."

"I'm reminded how great it is all the time. It's a weird record, it has passages that are just fucking weird bleeps out of a synthesiser. People dismiss it because it's so popular, and I would tell them if they heard pieces of it they would think it's some freaked out indie group with these great old synthesisers. It's just so well done. There are these strange, jazz elements to Pink Floyd that I think musicians notice. I don't think the audience cares - these neat little things they do that make it their own trip. These combinations of chords and notes that just aren't typical. I suppose to me, it's universal music. I think they do this reptilian brain version of universal, emotional music and they use these very simple build-ups and harmonies, and they nail it on that record 20 different times. And to know that they end on one of the great crescendos that they've ever done, that bit in 'Eclipse' where they sing "all that you touch, all that you feel"… the way that builds up, no-one is ever going to do it that perfectly again. Those simple words, those simple themes, building, building. And you've got to remember it's Roger Waters singing. He's not a great singer, but it highlights this thing - it's a motherfucker, you can't write a song that great. You just have to hope that something happens. For them to end on that [sings a spot on Waters impression] "the sun is eclipsed by the moon." Blammo! Then that heartbeat, it's fucking phenomenal. It's easy to dismiss it because it's so popular, but I would say to anyone they should secretly listen to it and then discover that 'oh my God, it's awesome'."

"I remember becoming aware of them when I was living in London in '94 when His 'N' Hers came out and thinking: "That's a good band". Actually, I think it was in Select, the one that had Brett Anderson on the front cover draped in the Union Jack and it was like the "new British pop", it was quite a classic issue, and they had a little paragraph at the bottom: "...oh, and Pulp are quite good too" and it was Jarvis sitting on a deck chair. And I thought "hmm", his whole image made sense to me, so I was more open to buying His 'N' Hers and thinking "that's a very good record". Then we were recording Casanova in a place called Moles in Bath, and Moles had a club underneath it and we'd go and drink in the club after a session, and 'Common People', the first time I heard it, was when it came on the enormous PA, it was very loud that room, I thought: "What the fuck is this?" It's one of the greatest pop songs of all time, it's so well-written and it's got such an arc, such a trajectory, a real energy. So that's where I thought "I'm desperate to hear the rest of that album", but also thought "I'm quite shocked and appalled that somebody else is making the music that I want to make myself"! So, yeah, I bought that album and thought, "yes, it really is a different class!" I was pretty scared of him when I interviewed him [for Les Inrockuptibles in 1994] - he was older than me and much, much taller! The first time we did the photo shoot, he turned up in his usual wonderful attire, for some reason, I was having a bit of brain fart that day and I put on this crappy old Barbour jacket coat, which had probably been worn by many many tramps before me. As a result, we did a few photos and then they told us to go away and come back another time and do the photo shoot properly, with Neil dressed as he ought to be. It was quite humiliating! I heard through a mutual friend later that Jarvis had said, "You've got to live it". That always stuck in my head and I thought "well, what does he mean by that?" I suppose if you're going to dress well for photographs, you've got to dress well the rest of the time as well, just be that person. Which I agreed with to an extent, but when you become a parent and have an ordinary life, you cease to dress well, which is a rather down-trodden middle-aged man! I've met him once or twice since very fleetingly in a couple of places. The funny thing is, we were both writing for the same Charlotte Gainsbourg album [5:55] back in the middle part of the last decade. I wrote an awful lot of lyrics and when I had kind of given up because I didn't know what they wanted anymore, they got Jarvis in to finish the job, and sure enough he did some wonderful things on that record. What I like about him is that he doesn't filter himself as much as I or other people would, he lets the stark stuff out, and he's not afraid of it, which I would be, being repressed!"