"I remember first hearing 'Xtal' - that is the sexiest ambient electronic song for me. I remember being in my first year of university in Brighton and moving away from home and being a bit lost and lonely in some ways, in this tiny little halls of residence room. This album, Ambient Works, was just constantly on my Walkman and I'd been exploring Björk, The Black Dog, Aphex Twin and Boards Of Canada, all this electronic music, this world that was opening up to me from the early to mid-nineties, which I was discovering it a bit later. I'd actually at that point bought a QY-70, which is a Yamaha sequencer - I remember reading Björk had written Debut on it and Tricky had one. Listening to Ambient Works, for the first time it seemed possible that I understood how those things were layered up - beats and beautiful little melodies and there was no singing on it, which for me at the time was great because I was very shy about singing. I remember just hearing that and then going to my QY and hearing little synth sounds that sounded similar. Although Aphex Twin's synth sounds were, in hindsight, put through loads of pedals - I can hear that he's got field recordings layered on top of stuff and probably synths he's made himself - but it made sense to me and encouraged me to go and make my own ambient songs. I remember meeting Aphex Twin around that time at a Björk Vespertine concert. I'd met him once before and I went up to him with my MiniDisc player, which I used to put things I'd produced on, and I played him a song at the bar. I kind of knew him at the time a little bit by face, I think we'd met at some nights he was doing at a warehouse in London and me and my boyfriend at the time liked dancing and going out, and I played it to him and he said: ""I think it's really good. The production's quite good for a girl"". [laughs] That's what he said to me! I didn't take it as a bad thing. I was just like, ""cool"". I mean, Aphex Twin liked my production skills, so whether I'm a girl or not, it's fine. But I just remember thinking how funny that was - but I took it like ""that's a real stamp of approval for me"". I do think he's been a really pivotal figure and an important person in my life, because he does electronic music and it's really sexy and emotional. It wasn't cold like some of the other people, like Stockhausen, but I felt like he understood the dance movement and got the loved-up aspect to ambient music. There's a darkness to it, and a light, but a real twisted, disgustingness in what he does, like 'Come To Daddy' and 'Windowlicker', this rank Englishness, [adopts croaky drawl] ""come to daddddyyyy!"", all that weird shit. He's got a sense of humour and just seems to be one of the modern day composers of our time that understood emotionalism in electronic music. Dirty, disgustingness and kind of surreal, how to fuck with your mind, and his body of work is huge. So, yeah, I think he's a dude."

"I remember becoming aware of them when I was living in London in '94 when His 'N' Hers came out and thinking: "That's a good band". Actually, I think it was in Select, the one that had Brett Anderson on the front cover draped in the Union Jack and it was like the "new British pop", it was quite a classic issue, and they had a little paragraph at the bottom: "...oh, and Pulp are quite good too" and it was Jarvis sitting on a deck chair. And I thought "hmm", his whole image made sense to me, so I was more open to buying His 'N' Hers and thinking "that's a very good record". Then we were recording Casanova in a place called Moles in Bath, and Moles had a club underneath it and we'd go and drink in the club after a session, and 'Common People', the first time I heard it, was when it came on the enormous PA, it was very loud that room, I thought: "What the fuck is this?" It's one of the greatest pop songs of all time, it's so well-written and it's got such an arc, such a trajectory, a real energy. So that's where I thought "I'm desperate to hear the rest of that album", but also thought "I'm quite shocked and appalled that somebody else is making the music that I want to make myself"! So, yeah, I bought that album and thought, "yes, it really is a different class!" I was pretty scared of him when I interviewed him [for Les Inrockuptibles in 1994] - he was older than me and much, much taller! The first time we did the photo shoot, he turned up in his usual wonderful attire, for some reason, I was having a bit of brain fart that day and I put on this crappy old Barbour jacket coat, which had probably been worn by many many tramps before me. As a result, we did a few photos and then they told us to go away and come back another time and do the photo shoot properly, with Neil dressed as he ought to be. It was quite humiliating! I heard through a mutual friend later that Jarvis had said, "You've got to live it". That always stuck in my head and I thought "well, what does he mean by that?" I suppose if you're going to dress well for photographs, you've got to dress well the rest of the time as well, just be that person. Which I agreed with to an extent, but when you become a parent and have an ordinary life, you cease to dress well, which is a rather down-trodden middle-aged man! I've met him once or twice since very fleetingly in a couple of places. The funny thing is, we were both writing for the same Charlotte Gainsbourg album [5:55] back in the middle part of the last decade. I wrote an awful lot of lyrics and when I had kind of given up because I didn't know what they wanted anymore, they got Jarvis in to finish the job, and sure enough he did some wonderful things on that record. What I like about him is that he doesn't filter himself as much as I or other people would, he lets the stark stuff out, and he's not afraid of it, which I would be, being repressed!"