"Erykah! I love her! From Nina Simone, Ella Fitzgerald and Bille Holliday I learnt about jazz music. And the sound was quite strange to my ears. It's different to Malian music. It took a long time for me to accept the sound. But Baduizm was something else. Music is about frequency and these frequencies - the way she sings, the arrangement, the groove - I'd never heard this before in my life. This album totally changed my life. I realised that music is infinite. Because I come from Mali, we're not used to listening to many types of music. We listen to African music, from Senegal, Benin, Guinea. But most of the time we only listen to Malian music. You grow up with a Malian sonority. So Erykah Badu for me was a new world. It was a trip. I had to adapt to accept it and once I accepted it, I went deep inside it. It had a strong influence on my music, the way I write now. There's no limit. I don't compose just music from Mali. I like to be open, to experiment."

"It was the first classical music where it really sounded aggressive and almost punky. I just love the formalism of it, and even when I think about it, I get shivers. It really sort of does something to me that other music doesn't. I just love the way there's no drums and bass, it's just a lot of people going at it really rhythmically and beautifully arranged. Also, the harpsichord is right. The first time I heard the music was on the Peter Greenaway film of the same name, and that would have been maybe 1989. I remember thinking the film was mental, but I really liked the music! Obviously he did a few others of Greenaway's, and they're all fabulous of course, especially Prospero's Books. It was fun to meet him [The Divine Comedy played with the Michael Nyman Band at the 1997 Edinburgh Festival]. He was a wild man, as they say over here. He certainly knows his own mind. He'd spend the rehearsals with his headphones on listening for Crystal Palace's results and trying to flirt with the cello player, and I love his spectacles, he's always got a good range of eyewear!"

"I think I'd been looking for something like this for ages; something sculpted, but that manages to encompass the violent and everything in between. What I want out of music is everything really, and The Pearl is that. It's quite a dark record in places. It's easy to dismiss it as New Age. I think we're quite lucky at this point in time that people are less concerned about genres than they used to be. Even prog rock is getting a proper analysis now. I finally got around to listening to early Genesis recently and found it wasn't as disgusting as I expected it to be. A lot of music gets dismissed because of how it's tagged. But The Pearl has escaped that really, because of Eno. I was lucky living in St Helens, because it can seem like a bit of a cultural desert, but there were a couple of good resources. There used to be a really good record shop in the market that sold mostly prog rock stuff, but lots of psychedelic stuff, some of Tim Buckley's early stuff and I picked up The Pearl from there. It's amazing."

"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."

"I've heard their new album about six times on our trips together and I don't think I've embraced it as much [as Smile], 'cos it's got a more 80s sound. It helps that I'm not sure what these guys are singing about. It's not music that could have been done by an American group. I like the fact that it's done by these fucking drugged out Japanese dudes. There's probably something in one of those eight minute long jams that I picked out and thought 'Oh yeah! Cool! Let's hear that again'. There's something about these long passages that aren't going to tell you a story, it's not going to tell you an answer, it's not about a melodic piece playing out. It's just holding you out there on the edge, like, what's happening next? I don't know, I don't know. There's a lot of music doesn't mean anything, so it just spins my mind where I'm not thinking about anything. That's a great druggy calling that their music has for me. It suspends you, and you're free - you're just listening to Boris. That's the only thing in your world at the time."

"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."

"Well Mutt Lange produced that one and obviously he produced Back In Black and Highway To Hell and loads of other albums that I really love. But Foreigner 4… well it’s wrong to like it, but it’s just so good! It’s really synthy and really poppy. It’s got ‘Waiting For A Girl Like You’ and ‘Urgent’ and loads of really big songs which all sound just like Mutt Lange. I love Mutt Lange and I love Foreigner, so really it’s my ultimate album. The way Lou Gramm sings is just so earnest, as if his life depends on it, but when you actually listen to what he’s saying, it’s really trite. So singing that like his life depends on it makes things kind of uncomfortable to actually analyse what you’re listening to, but it feels really good in the moment. Out of all the Foreigner albums, this and Double Vision are the ones I always come back to a lot. I once bought an Agent Provocateur t-shirt ironically and then worked my way back from there (laughs). Got the t-shirt, THEN bought the album and bought the one before that, and loved it!"

"When I was a kid I heard all this strange electronic music that came from Germany on pirate radio and on the Peel show and it seemed like music from another planet and I wanted it. Then one afternoon I was listening to Radio 1 and Annie Nightingale played one whole side of Rubycon and it was life changing. I said to her, many years later, "that was incredible!" and she said, "oh John used to do that all the time, he was the first to do that." But it was like Annie became a pirate for one moment and took over the whole of Radio 1. That meant a lot. That was the spirit of making music to me. You do what feels right. If you want to play half an hour, you do it and accept the consequences but you have to do what the music tells you to do. Tangerine Dream made these extraordinary, electronic soundscapes. Is it an animal or is it a machine? Tangerine Dream crossed over that a lot. And then Annie played the entire side and blew my head."