"Blank Frank’ is a song that manages to be super-modern and futuristic even though it’s about forty years old now. It’s from Here Come The Warm Jets, which is one of my favourite records of all time and I got into it when I was about fourteen or fifteen. It was very challenging, it was quite arty and some of it’s abrasive, but because I loved Roxy Music I was into investing some time in it and forty odd years later it’s definitely a Desert Island Disc for me. It’s partly because it’s so full of ideas, but also because it could only have come out of the UK. “I think all great art represents its environment; Jasper Johns is an obvious one because he used a flag, but if you look at the Pop Art movement it feels like Manhattan in the 60s’, the LA 60s’ art scene doesn’t look anything like the East Coast art scene. You could say exactly the same thing for Hip Hop, I think anything that’s informed by its environment is interesting and is usually pretty good. “Here Come The Warm Jets would be really quite an interesting record if it came out now, the vocals are very, very British. You know the word ‘arch’? I think arch is something that Americans don’t really do and I’m not saying that with any sense of nationalism, I think that for good and bad arch is a particularly British trait, it’s kind of intellectual, it’s remote and it’s not earnest. People often think that’s a bad thing and that music - and singing in particular - has got to be from the heart, or else it’s not authentic. “The X-Factor and talent shows have done so much damage to singing and the art of songwriting, because the basic premise is the more emotive a thing is the more quality it’s got and that’s complete nonsense. Siouxsie Sioux isn’t about that and ‘Blank Frank’ totally exemplifies it, it’s still a great rocking track but its arch and arty, it’s quite intellectual but it’s still engaging. “One of the reasons I picked a lot of these songs is because they were part of my formative years and a theme running through this is the UK in the 70s’. The idea of it being this sea of beige and brown with terrible haircuts and power cuts was a little part of it, but when you put all these records together, particularly Brian Eno and Roxy Music, it tells a completely different story."

"Varese is a universe. A dense universe of objects colliding, crystallising, dissipating and obliterating. I feel like I can relate to what I know of his temperament as well. As well as his obsession with the desert and need to rid himself of the historical baggage of the past is something I can relate to. That guy for me is the origin of a lot of ideas that I'm excited about. It's hard to even talk about him. You know when you've sat with someone for so long that it's difficult to even begin to say. He was one of the first major composers who transitioned into more of a sound artist. As people have said, he kind of liberated sound from the familiar tropes of Western music and turned sound into this absolute state. An appreciation of sound as object. Sound as environment or experience. So, he's that guy. He's someone who, as I grew up, getting into composition and trying to find someone who I can relate to because I love the music but the culture of classical music is stuffy and boring. And I don't give a shit about it. But he was such an intense, probably manic depressive, obsessive-compulsive, beautiful, frustrated, angry, passionate person – and all this stuff came through his music. And I love him for that. He came out of the whole Romantic orchestral universe, and this was pre-electronic age. So he was surrounded by Stravinsky, Debussy, these major models as far as orchestral writing goes. But there wasn't anyone who was taking that model, freezing it and laying to waste the baggage of history that comes with along with that music. He was able to erase all of that and push the idea of orchestral writing forward. If he was alive today, that's a question I would ask him – where are you coming from? Like Feldman though, he's very intuitive in his writing, so he just trusted himself."