"I don’t sit here, in my dad’s flat listening to my dad’s music, it’s not a fucking séance, but I don’t try to avoid it. I listened to a song of my dad’s the other day, a song he wrote called ‘Pam’s Moods’, and it’s so unbelievably brilliant writing. It’s a bit naively recorded and he’s got this faux-Jamaican-American accent going on, so he hasn’t quite found himself yet’ he’s not relying on who he is yet, so you can hear a bit of anguish about that. That muddies the brilliance of the song, but the song is so fucking good. The lyrics are so good, ‘Making wormwood of my soul,’ and it’s absolutely unbelievable delivery, and makes use of ridiculously long constructive narrative that still rolls off phonetically and scans well. That style of music got a bit rejected when he leapt to the more successful thing, but I more prefer that. It’s psychedelic."

"I was a little shocked by this when it came out; a ferocious, spikey talent spitting out songs about fucking, TV, boys and girls. It was so abrupt and yet also so ‘every day’. I’m always impressed by writers who can bring a language into their lyrics that we aren’t used to hearing. The album is having a conversation with you. It is a self-contained world that you can walk into. Outside of the lyrics, the sound of this record was an education to me. At the time, I was listening to the most lo-fi, scratchy recordings, but this was something different. It was bone dry and brittle but also very well recorded; it made me realise I didn't have to think black and white in those terms of fidelity. It’s a record that I often think about when recording myself and it has given me a distrust of reverbs and echoes."

"It's very strong. This album makes me cry. It's the first album of Toumani's albums that I listened to and I started crying right away. I didn't know why I was crying. I was crying for happiness, I was crying for sadness. I couldn't explain it. I was crying deeply. That's why I always say that music can heal people, because it can take you somewhere you don't control. Many artists can take me to their world and through their world they can take me to my own world, to my past. For me, crying can heal many things. You can process many experiences that you didn't have time to digest. With time, you digest them and you learn how to heal yourself, to be at peace. Listening to good music, music that you like, you can really help yourself, to heal your soul, step by step, day by day. This record is really deep."

"I remember first listening to this during the OK Computer tour, too, with Colin [Greenwood]. The only thing I'd really known by him before – Bill, I mean, not Colin,– was 'Lovely Day'. When I'd got into him, he'd retired from the music industry, but years later, a documentary, Still Bill, came out about why he'd done that, and I'd really encourage any fan of his to get hold of it. He's just this lovely family man, doing joinery, talking about how he doesn't want to make music for the sake of it in this really lovely, gentle way. 

There's a wisdom in his personality, too, a wisdom really comes out in his singing voice, and his music. He doesn't come across as an artist driven by the need to express himself creatively either, which is interesting. He comes across as a human being, a husband and a father before he's a musician. He talks about why that's important, and that really resonated with that way of thinking.
"

"Mulholland Dr. was probably the nerdiest experience I’ve had. Just watching the film and then thinking about it, listening to commentaries, then researching online what other connections I missed and seeing all these deeper themes and meanings, I realized that’s how you can make a film! This was the first Lynch film I ever saw. That Naomi Watts performance, and the performance within the performance, still haunts me. The movie felt like it was just kind of fucking with me, and I really enjoyed that. Being John Malkovich was another one of those formative films that expanded my horizons on what film can be, what it can comment on, how many layers you can attach, and how meta it can get. Mulholland Dr. and Being John Malkovich came out around the time when I had already cemented in my mind what a movie was. Then for all that to just blow up in my face was really awesome."

"Mulholland Dr. was probably the nerdiest experience I’ve had. Just watching the film and then thinking about it, listening to commentaries, then researching online what other connections I missed and seeing all these deeper themes and meanings, I realized that’s how you can make a film! This was the first Lynch film I ever saw. That Naomi Watts performance, and the performance within the performance, still haunts me. The movie felt like it was just kind of fucking with me, and I really enjoyed that. Being John Malkovich was another one of those formative films that expanded my horizons on what film can be, what it can comment on, how many layers you can attach, and how meta it can get. Mulholland Dr. and Being John Malkovich came out around the time when I had already cemented in my mind what a movie was. Then for all that to just blow up in my face was really awesome."

"As much as it seems like it's a go-to song if you're into someone and you want to show your affection, “Sign Your Name” is actually from my mum. She's a huge fan of Terence Trent D'Arby, to the point of sending him fan letters and stuff when he first started out. “I grew up listening to the first album, Introducing the Hardline According to Terence Trent D'Arby, and he was the first artist I saw play live, at the Guildhall in Southampton. I was at the front and I was like ‘Who is this guy? He's got this Marvin Gaye vibe, but there's Prince there, and Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder in the vocal.’ “This was his big hit. Lyrically it said so much, it was a very poetic and eloquent way of saying ‘Let's cherish this love I have for you.’ It was a really nice way of approaching it, and it was a good way to learn how to write my own songs."