"I think it was Mike [Harding] from Touch who first introduced this to me. He said, 'You'll love it, and it's an unbelievable price' which is quite a killer combination if you like collecting things. I bought it and he's absolutely right. It's a master: there's no ways about it, you're hearing virtuosity, ensemble playing to the highest degree. It knows itself inside-out, which means you get this feeling of how it stretches and breathes. Basically if I'm wanting to listen to something from it I close my eyes, fumble around and take one of the six discs out so it's a surprise. Otherwise you can find something for the morning, a raga, blah blah blah. But these are just the most extraordinary devotional love songs. It's from a tradition which has been going on for a very very long time. It's not a part-time job at all; these are people who are dedicated. It's fantastic. I think it's truly inspiring in the sense that it's through listening to that that I've come upon solutions to things that I've been working on myself. It's the peculiar thing: you wake up in the morning having gone to bed with a problem or you're working on something that you don't quite know what the solution to is, and when that marvellous thing happens that all the work gets done in your sleep, it's just the very best. I had an example of that happening with this record. When Dietmar Post and Lucia Palacios were making the Transatlantic Feedback film about The Monks, in order to get the editing done they asked people if they would contribute a cover version of a Monks track. From the proceeds of that they were able to finish the editing. I was working with a Swedish friend of mine who'd introduced me to The Monks so much later than everybody else. I said he had to choose the song, and he picked 'Oh, How To Do Now'. I listened to it over and over so it got into my head and my conclusion was that we certainly can't do it like that, because the narrator of the song is obviously a young man who has extremely sexual feelings for a young lady and I thought it'd be highly inappropriate for us to pursue that angle. How do you get an in? I woke up the next morning and thought, 'I know what to do'. I rewrote their text and took the emotion down, made it more devotional and I thought, 'Ah, that's it, it's like Ali Khan'; you change it into that, so in fact it has one phrase that's basically stretched over half the song, and the other part fell into place. It's either the love or the devotion but also the sense of melody, really stretching out lines. That's an example of it being inspiring and useful."

"Ooh! Oooh! It's almost like [an album] that's never been repeated. Bryan Ferry has come close but it was a moment in time for them as a band. It could have been a nightmare to make for all I know but it's beautiful and incredible. At the time I was listening to that, I was getting into the sounds of records and perceiving how they were made and the depth in that record is incredible. Bob Clearmountain mixed it and I wondered [at the time]: what does a mixer do? And then you start to realise 'ah – that's what he does'. The main difference between my hits later in the 1980s and a record like this is that the musicianship on Avalon is pretty amazing. They could choose anyone to play on their records as could Bryan Ferry afterwards. And the nucleus of what their band was pretty amazing itself. Their understanding of what you could get out of a studio was incredible. My records with Stock, Aiken and Waterman are [comparatively] quite narrow. SAW had a bunch of keyboards but not many, maybe two or three they really liked. A Yamaha DX7, Jupiter 8 and the Linn 9000 were their workhorses. They had their little set up and that was the band. Mike and Matt were the two musicians. Matt was an amazing guitar player but he never put that to the front because it wasn't needed. He was a Ringo guitar player - he didn't do anything that wasn't needed! They were all about trying to write and produce hits for the Top 40. No – the top 5! That's all they were bothered about. They didn't do anything that was surplus to requirements. But they also made some crap records that nobody heard! But they found their formula and stuck to it like their Motown heroes. It never seemed cynical to me because they were honest about it. They weren't trying to be cool. They did go out and accept awards but generally speaking, they turned up in jeans and t-shirts – well, Pete was slightly different because he was A&R and the mouthpiece – because they viewed it as work. I met Lamont Dozier once and he said 'I get up, go into my basement, sit at the piano, press play and record and sit there for two hours. Then I come up, have breakfast, answer my mail, do whatever I do, and I go and listen it afterwards, find the good bits and say 'that's a song''. So it's quite workmanlike in a way. I don't think anybody would belittle anything Motown did. But if you want to put a negative slant on it, it's a factory style of doing things. But I also think: that's bollocks. If you're gonna be good at something, you have to put the hours in."