"Stalker. I went through a big phase, a Tarkovsky phase, when I was in my mid-20s, and that film always stuck with me. For me, I think visually there’s something about that film that manages to get inside your head and touch you on your emotional synapses or something; it somehow just gets in there. And visually: for instance just the shot of this dog, this black dog that’s always wandering around by itself, that… I mean Tarvovsky was a master of symbolism and just knowing, for example, that a candle in a certain place would trigger in most audiences’ minds something to do with memory. And working on an amazing sensory level, with the composition of shots; these big, long shots that just go on forever. And it doesn’t always matter what people are saying — because the film’s full of dialogue, full of poetry and stuff, but that’s what I love about that film, and also The Mirror. It just washes over you, and you can watch it again and again and take more and more in each time. Mirror is also one of my favorites but it’s a baffling, baffling film. It’s the same as in painting, you know: people have to go back and study the old masters to see how they did shit. They’re called masters because they’re still the best that ever were. It’s the same with Kurosawa and Ozu and Tarkovsky: if you look at their films and what they were doing, you kind of feel safe watching those films. With Tarkovsky’s stuff I have to keep going back to it to remind myself that there’s an alternative to the 90-minute American film, you know where it’s all fucking three acts and information, boom-boom-boom, and just to go, “Hey, you know what — there’s a way of communicating that’s different and there’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t be scared to appreciate that stuff.”"

"My dad’s Greek and he came to Britain when he was nine or ten. Like a lot of people, he used music to maintain his identity and when I was a kid, he used to play a lot of the stuff that he brought with him - everything from contemporary rock to older folk and then Yannis Markopoulos as well. He’s one of Greece’s foremost composers. He’s from Crete and he sort of interpolates melodies and rhythms in a way that’s thousands of years old really. “This particular song has a real resonance for me, because it’s probably the first piece of music I can remember the experience of listening to. My dad used to put it on when I was two or three years old and he’d put me on his shoulders and spin me around. It’s incredibly hypnotic and repetitive and I remember this amazing sensation of the first time I had that feeling of music moving me beyond the state of resting existence. It’s stuck with me and I can still put it on and get chills from it - partly because it’s a very powerful piece of music anyway, and partly because it has that incredible memory attached for me as well. “Greek music is still a big part of my life. A few years ago I was involved in this performance at the Barbican where various musicians got together to perform the music and tell the story of another Greek composer, Markos Vamvakaris, and I was the narrator. I joined the rest of the musicians to sing with them at the end of the show and it was a great moment for me. When you’re a generation removed it’s tougher to stay in touch with your national identity, you have to put a little bit more effort in to appreciate your history and your heritage, but it’s worth it"

"I was up in Toronto rehearsing for the Painkiller tour and I saw Dimebag [Darrell, guitarist] on a local TV show and he was wearing a British Steel shirt. They played some clips of their music and it just instantly struck a chord. I jumped into a taxi and went down to the studio where they were recording this show, met him and became good friends. That night they were playing at a club in Toronto, and when I saw them live I was just blown away. After that, Priest took Pantera on tour in Europe and they'd never even been out of America before, but every night they would just stun the crowd. I just knew from the moment that I saw them, they were going to be huge. It's just a really great memory. What they were doing at that particular time was revolutionary. Before Cowboys From Hell, they were finding their way. Like any band, they were just trying to find out who they were and find that spark to make something happen. When I heard 'Primal Concrete Sledge' for the first time, my reaction was to just say, "Oh my god, what is this? I've never heard anything like this before." I got to work with Dime on a song and it was a thrill and a treasure to have that opportunity. The label said that there was a movie coming out, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and asked me if I'd do a song. The one that I came up with was 'Light Comes Out The Black'. I didn't really know anyone locally who was available at the time. I picked up the phone and spoke to Dime about it and he told me to come down to Dallas because they were on a bit of a break. I flew down there the next day and played with him. It was done in more or less six hours and we ended up just sitting around trying to find something else to do with it."