"I mentioned Johnny's record store, and as well as Suicide, which is ironic considering he killed himself, he got me to listen to Nick Drake. This is such a perfect record, the songs are perfect, the singing's perfect, the instrumentation (even though Phil Collins plays on the songs) is perfect. It was one of those records that didn't need any explaining. I walked in, it was playing, and I asked 'what's this?', I thought it maybe was a Cat Stevens b-side. He told me it was Nick Drake and that I should buy it and he gave me a discount on the record because he was such an evangelist for it, and thought it was one of the best records ever made and that people needed to learn about Nick Drake. I took it home and fell in love with it. It's been a constant for me ever since. I can't imagine a month of my life that's gone by that I've not listened to it. The funniest experience was the first real tour I did, in 1991, with the band The Shamen. It was the first electronic music rave tour of the States, and at the time I didn't drink, I didn't do drugs, I was a very naive little kid and I was on tour with the Shamen, who were all really partying quite hard. I think we liked and respected each other, but we didn't really have anything in common apart from a shared love of electronic music. One day I was in the back of the lounge listening to Nick Drake's Bryter Layter and the singer came back and you could see his face lit up, and you could see he was a huge Nick Drake fan. We bonded over that. The next tour I did was with the Prodigy and Richie Hawtin, and the one after that was with Orbital and the Aphex Twin. During these tours there was a rave scene in the early 90s, but compared to the UK it was much smaller. It certainly existed. One of the reasons why the rave scene in the States is how it is, is because a lot of the people involved do way too many drugs. You get these DJs and performers who get really into the rave scene and then do more drugs in one night than most human beings should in a lifetime, so the burn-out rate is pretty high. In 1996 I was dating this raver girl, and she had gone out and did three hits of ecstasy, three hits of ketamine, some acid and crystal meth and I just remember thinking 'how can your body handle that?' But I guess if you're 19 years old it can handle it for a little while. Definitely that type of drug use led to a lot of people burning out"

"Island Records put out these samplers that cost the price of a single that basically had whatever was cool: King Crimson, Nick Drake, Blodwyn Pig, Quintessence, the original Nirvana. There’s a point sometimes when an independent label will just have everything, and you follow everything they do because they have the best stuff. That’s how I learned about King Crimson. In the period before I was living in London, I saw King Crimson more than any other band, and they had the biggest effect on me. They were so serious. “21st Century Schizoid Man” is just get it out, put it on the table, and deal with that. The combination of heaviness, technical brilliance, and sheer bonkers arrangements was unbelievable. You don’t know whether to be petrified or burst out laughing."

"I was torn between this and Five Leaves Left, which is more acoustic. But Bryter Layter just has great pop songs. Great playing as well. It's a shame that he never caught people's attention at the time. I think he was disappointed that he didn't get the acclaim. He's such a one-off, just the sound of his voice and the tunes are very unique. Did you ever hear the record that they put out of his mum singing? It was funny. I always think with Nick Drake that it's like, 'Where the fuck did that come from?' It's a little bit folk, but it isn't really folk, there's a bit of Donovan in there, but there isn't really. And then I heard a home recording of his mum singing on the piano and thought, 'Ah, that's it...' It must be something in the genes."

"I got into him a long time ago; again, around the time I was going to university. I think I had a collection that came out around then called Way To Blue. I remember really liking it but perhaps I was too young for it at the time. It wasn’t until a few years later that I went back to it and they’re all just genius. There’s not a bad song on any of those records but I particularly got into the story of him. It’s so sad, you just want to go back in time and try and change it. It must have been so frustrating for him to craft these... I don’t think anyone sounds like Nick Drake and I get furious when people say he’s a kind of folk musician because I just think that’s bullshit. [laughs] Well, maybe it’s not bullshit because he comes from a tradition of songs that have a kind of folk influence in the way that they’re played, and the use of the natural world with stories removed from modern society, I suppose that’s kind of folksy, but for me it’s a bit more, dare I say, a bit more special than that."

"She’s a later discovery, a totally obscure person. I was reading about her just to prepare for this, because I’ve been listening to this record for ages, and on Wikipedia it said that somebody gave a copy to J Mascis and he gave it to someone to release it. I didn’t realise that at all, that he brought it to some record label’s attention, but that’s a record that I’ve been listening to a long time, it’s a really beautiful record I think. I have chosen Songs of Love & Hate by Leonard Cohen and Ladies of the Canyon by Joni Mitchell but this record is right in that same period of beautiful singer/songwriter records. They’re not band records, they’re personal records, they’re kind of like somebody’s journal or notebook. Those records always felt like a window opening into somebody’s life where you kind of spent an hour or forty five minutes of someone telling you about their life and the different things they see and the different ways they look at the world and if it resonated with you it became this… I just thought that Sibylle Baier was in the same canon as all those albums from that period that made an impression on me. Like early Dylan or a Nick Drake record or something. Colour Green is just as powerful for me."

"One of the first jobs I ever had was working as a caddy on a golf course, and I worked just long enough so I could buy Lodger by David Bowie. The second job I had was cutting lawns, and I remember it was one of those hot summer days, I was sweating and getting attacked by wasps, and I was just thinking 'This is all worthwhile, because when I'm done here I'm going to ride my bike and go and buy the cut out vinyl of Suicide'. Cut outs were like the discount version. To be honest with you, I don't really even remember why I was fixated on buying the first Suicide album. Part of it was the cover, and the guy who ran my local record store, his name was Johnny, he was this alcohol and drug-addicted crazy person, and you'd walk in and he'd be playing all these random records, from Nick Drake to the Grateful Dead to The Clash to Miles Davis, and one day he was playing Suicide. It sounded like nothing I'd ever heard before. I think I was about 14. It wasn't until many years later that I met anyone who liked Suicide. I don't know if you experienced this as well, but when I was growing up albums were these almost, not to sound too grad studenty, totemic things that you would take into your house. Nowadays if I hear a song and it doesn't immediately resonate with me I probably won't spend any time on it. Some of the early records that I bought, like Public Image's Second Edition or Suicide, I'd made the effort to bring these into my house. I only had nine or 10 albums in my possession, so if I didn't understand a record back then I would think it was my fault. I'd think that the people making the record were smarter and more sophisticated than I was, and the fact that I didn't understand it was indicative of my own shortcomings. It was the middle of the summer, and I didn't really have a lot of friends, I didn't have a lot going on. My mum would go to work in the day and I was pretty much left alone to read books and watch TV. I had a lot of free time to listen to records. I took the Suicide album home and it didn't make sense to me, but I spent day after day and week after week listening to it until I cracked the code and it started to make sense. The first song is 'Ghostrider', and I still remember that Saul on the road to Damascus moment when I was listening to it for the third or fourth time, and there's that recurring line ""America America is killing its youth"", and I'd never heard anyone say anything like that before. And to say it in such a throwaway, casual way, it wasn't delivered in a portentous way, it's a throwaway lyric in a song, and that was the moment that really resonated. At the same time I was taking guitar lessons, and my teacher loved very complicated well-produced modern jazz fusion and heavy metal with long guitar solos, and he'd force me to listen to Van Halen or Larry Carlton and then when I listened to Suicide I was first confused - am I allowed to like something that clearly my music teacher hates? And finally I admitted to myself I don't like these well-produced records, I like these strange sounds. I think it also really corrupted my musical DNA."