"This is a weird one. That was in my parent's record collection. They had a few records, but that was one that we would listen to a lot as kids. It's very appealing to children. It's kind of like a musical Monty Python, but a lot better in my opinion! They had this really stupid, silly, strange music that was a lot better than it should have been. You often get that when a comedian makes music, you can sort of tell that actually the music underneath is really good. Lots of their humour is derived from the fact that the music is played really badly, and it was sort of shit and sort of funny! That source of amusement has followed me my whole life. I'm much happier trawling YouTube for awful music than I am looking for the hottest new good band. I almost spend more time listening to awful music. Not just because I find it funny but because I find things in it that a professional would never think of, and that is sometimes all you want to hear, something that you've never heard before. I think a lot of humour is relayed in my music directly from the Bonzos."

"I could have chosen a number of his ambient records, from Apollo – Atmosphere & Soundtracks or Ambient 1 (Music For Airports) to Discreet Music. He, along with maybe one or two others, invented ambient music, which is now the background to a lot of different music, but back then was a revolution. Eno was slagged by the press at every turn. I remember a quote in the NME saying his music was like ""watching paint dry"". If something got that bad a review, I had to check it out and Brian got the worst reviews for a number of years. Discreet Music was the record that I listened to when it came out and I am still listening to it now. Strangely enough, I find it the most incredible music to make love to, because its stillness strips you down to a nakedness that, for me, lovemaking always demands. That's opposed to drunken lovemaking, which is a completely different thing and only part of what is on offer. Discreet Music puts me in the mood to really find out who I am and to be vulnerable with another person. Therefore, it has become one of my favourite lovemaking albums, and I don't think many people could say that."

"I used to work at HMV in Brighton and until that point I was still doggedly into electronica. This is a very specific memory but I remember reading something in The Guardian Guide about N.E.R.D., and I realised that these were the guys who’d been producing all the music on the radio that I thought was incredible. At HMV I had to order the album in myself, we weren’t stocking it, and it was kind of another moment for me, that realisation that you do not have to compromise, that production and good songs are not mutually exclusive. At the time I was listening to such complex music where every track had a different snare drum or a different sound, to listen to the N.E.R.D. record where every snare drum and keyboard sound is the same, there’s something insanely clever about that. It was a real moment for me in terms of realising that what interests me isn’t just the niche stuff. My production isn’t as advanced as theirs, but if you’re doing something that sounds interesting it’s pointless doing that if you can’t back it up with a song. That’s what I try and do, but I’m not as committed to the pop side of it as I could be."

"Well I was always a Sticky Fingers and Goat’s Head Soup guy. But I never really understood Exile…. Well it was more that everyone was going on about it and I didn’t understand why. And I just thought there were too many songs on it, and too many unfinished ideas. And you kept seeing all these editions of it. I hate it when you’ve got a band like the Rolling Stones who have millions of brilliant songs and loads of great albums and someone goes: “But THIS is the definitive, mega album.” I just don’t like being told that, so I was always quite resistant. But then last year I just said: “Enough is enough, I’m going to stop fighting it.” I read something amazing about that period of their touring and how mental it was, and I thought, “Fuck it, I’ll listen to it again.” And I listened to it, and haven’t stopped listening to it! I love it now. It’s got loads of brilliant songs on it, but they aren’t like mega hit songs, if you look through the list you don’t see what you would consider to be one of the all-time golden classic Rolling Stones songs. But when you listen to the album it just makes sense."

"It's this live, spiritual thing from '66 - Alice Coltrane, his wife, and Pharoah Sanders is on it. It's just a really spiritual performance. At one point, he starts beating his chest and making Tarzan noises. This was one of the things I burned - that's more obscure, the others are more influential, but yeah, Temple University is in Philadelphia, so it was very close to home in that regard. There's a writer from Philadelphia, Francis Davis, I read one of his jazz books, I'm intrigued by that guy. I haven't met him but I really love his writing and he was there back then, he was going to Temple, he was at the concert, and he wrote a review that came in there. That's a great, intense live performance. I've always sort of been into the improv thing of feeling it in the moment spiritually, but yeah, I was listening to a lot of jazz records and it really opens your mind, just because they're all such real players. It's all live, it's not overdubs, it's just capturing a real moment of true feeling, especially when you've got the greats, like John Coltrane, or in this case, John Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, Rashied Ali and they're all just such heavy people, you know? It's unreal."

"The album this song is on – A Girl Called Dusty – was in that pile of records that my friend's dad gave to me and that was the first I'd ever heard of her. I love the key change: it sounds really sad but really hopeful at the same time, it gives me a lot of feelings. I used to listen to this album obsessively. I'd sit and listen and while I was listening I'd type out the lyrics and listen again and try to dissect everything in the music and work out how it sounded like that. How it sounded so good – where each tambourine hit was in every bar, where the key change comes in and why that feels so good and whether the key change goes up or goes down. I got really analytical and lame about it. I just really wanted to understand why it was so good! It’s just as incredible as “Walk On By” and those other Burt Bacharach songs – they're all so emotional! I don't think I have listened to the Gene Putney version, or maybe it's something I've heard and not really noticed, I don't know. If it was on the radio I’ve probably heard it. It’s the Dusty version that I have in my heart."

"My mum was into Björk, and at the time I was just like, ahh it’s just my mum’s music, so I was listening at maybe teenage years, 13 or 14 but then really got into it at 18. Like, ‘Oh I get this, this is actually more me than I thought it was’. That whole album of Debut, ‘Human Behaviour-, production wise, content, just sound - when you hear them drums, they’re so gritty and cyclical. I think that was the main thing I was trying to get across with my album, that sound. Björk, I think is the master of that, whatever she does she creates a world in her own albums. So whether you listen to Debut, Vespertine, Vulnicura, Post - all of her records have an identical feeling when you listen to them and I'm like, ‘okay, I've stepped into Björk’s domain’. I don't know how she does it, but I was trying to do something like that with Dark Matter, like this is the sound. This record is very different to everything else and it’s got a sound that can make you feel something - feeling and emotion and response to sound and vibrations was something I was kind of going for with my record."