"I dropped out of university because the band was starting to be quite busy and my friend Daniel Stone, who was an artist, made me a mix CD. It had a different Daniel Johnson song called “Speeding Motorcycle” and when I heard it, I went down a Daniel Johnston rabbit hole. I’ve been down there ever since. “Johnston taught me a lot of lessons. When we started the band, I was the drummer, which was my first instrument, but when the lead singer left I reluctantly took over lead vocals. I really hated the sound of my voice and it's taken me many years to get comfortable with it. ""Johnston was the first artist I heard who really sang in his own voice, he had this really squeaky teenagers warble. It sounds like a kid lost in his own world, in a basement, pouring his heart out into a tape recorder. It had such a profound influence on me.When I discovered his music, between Making Dens and Twenty One, I felt that it was okay to not like your own voice, and it was okay that I’m not Morrissey or Thom Yorke - the people I was trying to emulate at that time. ""Discovering his music taught me that but it also taught me to sing your own truth, to tell your own story, and to not be afraid of revealing your ugliest and most private parts of yourself in your music, because that’s actually how people relate to songs. “A song is a place to hide your ghosts. When you write a song, you’re building a house for your demons to live in. I think Johnston taught me that too. Maybe with A Billion Heartbeats I’ve built a house for a generation’s ghosts, but I’ll have to let other people decide that"

"I just think that it's a perfect record. The cover is exquisite; it's still one of the most iconic record covers of all time, so beautiful, mysterious and alluring. Every song on that record is great; it's a brilliant record. 

 That sort of worn-out sound of her voice felt very different to me than a lot of the female voices that you hear, even to this day. She's got this very distinct gravelly, worn-out, fucked-up voice that sounds like she's done it all and of course, she has.

 I just think she's a really interesting artist and she continues to take risks and never does the obvious which is something I've always loved about her. 'Why'd Ya Do It' is still one of my all-time favourite songs and it thrills me – this sort of vengeful, raging expression of total disappointment in somebody. I just really identify with that song for some reason. Her version of 'Working Class Hero' is gorgeous as is 'The Ballad of Lucy Jordan' – both are just amazing songs. 

 She's not been born with the greatest of voices and in this climate where everybody's a stage-schooled kid and everybody can sign multiple octaves – they've not actually got any soul in their heart – she's all soul and all desire to communicate through this fucked up voice that's full of frailty. I just think she's so exciting as a result. 

 She was born so beautiful that she could've easily cultivated a very sort of alluring, very traditionally feminine voice and yet she didn't: I'm so grateful to her for that. There's a lot of androgyny that comes out in her sound, which I really identify with."