"Tonto's Expanding Head Band were very early synth adopters. Tonto was an acronym for The Original New Timbral Orchestra which was a reference to what they worked on: the biggest polyphonic analogue synth in the world. Tonto was almost like a cockpit of synths arranged in a horseshoe shape. When they played it, they were inside the machine. Zero Time was hugely influential, most notably on Stevie Wonder who heard it, freaked out and asked them to produce his records. They ended up doing Music Of My Mind, Talking Book, Innervisions and Fulfillingness' First Finale. They also did a load of Isley Brothers records, including 3 + 3. Zero Time borders on New Age in a way. I'd never really heard music like this before – totally instrumental, the whole record composed on synths. I saw them live when they played at the Big Chill festival in 2006. I hadn't known they were playing [a line-up consisting of the band's Malcolm Cecil and his son, DJ Moonpup, with a portable version of Tonto performed]. It was amazing, even if it was a bit odd because they interspersed songs with educational stuff, little bits of interviews with Stevie Wonder and other people they'd worked with. It worked though – what a show!"

"It was hard to pick a Cure album because they're one of my favourite bands, and one of the bands that has made brilliant albums in very different styles, perfect pop albums. Pornography is a pretty unique record that is just insanely bleak, so hopeless but also really again self-contained and perfect. It's not got a shit song on it, even some of my favourite albums have a song that you can imagine they could have done without, but Pornography is absolutely brilliant in that respect. It's just a really suffocating, druggy, bleak amazing record. I hear there was a lot of drinking… I've never really been party to any studio meltdowns, so these stories are… I mean, maybe I'll have a couple of slices of cake too many. They're always quite fascinating. I was definitely a bit of a goth, and still am at heart, I just have no hair to dye black any more. The Cure were the first band that I got properly into. The Disintegration tour was the first gig I ever saw, when I was 14 or 15 or something. We toured with the Cure, they were great to tour with. There was a party every night, they treated all the bands really well."

"This was the first record of his that I liked. I think it's really aggressive, in a good way, and hard. I always associated with Michael Jackson with all the Thriller stuff, which I didn't really like, but I thought this was a real step out from that safe zone that he'd been in. I'm not a Michael Jackson expert, but this is one of those records that you have to play really really loudly. The production on it is amazing. Apparently we did one of those award ceremonies, what are they called in the UK? The Brits. That's it. I was there with Alison [Moyet, Yazoo vocalist] and he was there and I don't really remember, because I was into not being starstruck, and Alison saw him and she leapt over the security guards and gave Michael Jackson a massive kiss, it was really funny. All the security guys were looking on going, "What the fuck was that?' I think there's a picture of us with all these really famous people like Paul McCartney, all lined up looking like geeks. I guess Dangerous was the closest he got, not to my style of production, but a more synthetic sound."

"T. Rex's Marc Bolan was my best mate's hero. I said I didn't like him, not because it was true but because he liked him. Not so long ago he bought me a pristine vinyl copy of Electric Warrior and again I was blown away, the sonic quality, the excitement. I still haven't told my friend that though. I was Pink Floyd, he was T. Rex, I was Simon & Garfunkel he was The Sweet... you see where I'm coming from. It was really sad when Marc Bolan died, who knows what he might have gone on to do. I saw him play in Southend, that was when we were in our teens. We'd go out to gigs, as much as we could afford. I lived in Basildon, and in Southend, which was close to us, there were quite a few good venues to see bands. I'd be surprised at things turning up. I remember seeing Generation X at a hotel ballroom, and that was really exciting, because we were kids and couldn't drink, officially. It was exotic and it was naughty. Southend has quite a musical history, with all the R&B stuff, Canvey Island and places like that, I think some of those clubs still exist, where you can see local bands and shit."

"We saw their show a couple of weeks back, and of course I love the Black Moth Super Rainbow stuff, and Tobacco too. But I have to say when I was at the show there was a lot of new music he played and I was like 'Fuck, that's cool'. And then he gave me the new record and I discovered that a lot of what they played is on that, so to me it's the best that they've, or he's, done. He does the same song, over and over. He's working in the same colour palette every time, and he knows it, and he knows he's trapped in it, and I know it too. And it's rejuvenating. Even though you've heard these sounds he does a lot, it still comes back at you. Very effective. It's very evocative. He uses all these reverbs and echoes and distortions and it doesn't become music to you, it becomes an atmosphere, a mood. That's what a lot of this music I've talked about does: you don't think it's about drugs, you don't think it's about guitar playing, it's about a world that's created in your mind as these sounds are playing. It's fantastic."

"I feel about The Lady Eve the same way I feel about A Hard Day’s Night. Both movies are on my all-time top ten list of favorites. The first time I saw them, I had the same impression of comic density. Enormous energy that I was running to keep up with. I felt like I had to see this movie again, if only to have another shot at laughing at the hundreds of jokes. I love movies that make you feel like you are not getting it all the first time, that there is much more to be had. Eve is my favorite Sturges. I love the chemistry between Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda—like when she takes him back to her stateroom, manipulates him into making a pass, and shuts him down with “Hopsie, you ought to be kept in a cage.” On a pure filmmaking level, the honeymoon night on the train when Eve confesses to all her premarital dalliances is a tour de force of writing, acting, and editing, and it’s one of the best musically scored comic sequences in any movie ever! Sturges’s mother was an adventuress, a confidante, and traveling companion of Isadora Duncan. I like to think there is more than a little of his mother in Eve."

"I would say that Thomas Vinterberg’s The Celebration was probably one of the most influential movies for me to be a filmmaker. I had seen a lot of how-to movies in the past, but there was something about how unapologetic that movie was to be filmed on a video camera. They had all these rules because of the Dogme 95 rules, where you couldn’t have a tripod, you know, you can’t bring in lights, you can’t use props that aren’t already there, you can’t use music, and I thought, “Well, this movie’s going to suck.” I went to see it, and I was riveted, and it was like that moment where I kind of sat at a coffee shop — I saw it in Washington D.C., I was there on a trip — and I just sat there thinking, “The only reason you’re not a filmmaker right now is because you’re not going out and doing it, because these people just made something with a camera that’s sh**tier than yours, and it’s brilliant.” So, “The only reason you’re not a filmmaker is not because people aren’t giving you money, or giving you a break. It’s because you’re not good enough, or you’re not doing it.” So that was a very important movie for me."

"You know what, I think I’m going to swerve The Godfather and go for The King of Comedy. I love Scorsese – I loved Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Mean Streets — they were all really seminal, but I always like a film which is, if not leftfield it’s not obvious Scorsese. He has made less obvious films, like New York, New York or The Last Waltz, which don’t hit the mark for me, but King of Comedy is a gem I think. Curiously enough I was talking about it to my fiancé at the weekend, saying, ‘You’ve got to see it,’ because I think it’s where we are now as a contemporary celebrity-seeking society. There are Rupert Pupkins everywhere now. What they don’t have, that Rupert Pupkin had, is innocence and naivety. When you see the whole Big Brother world, the way that people are cloying to get famous now, that’s Rupert Pupkin. I remember when I first watched The Office I saw a lot of Rupert Pupkin in David Brent. Rupert Pupkin had such likeability whereas Brent is a toad – you want to watch him fail. With Pupkin you want to say, ‘Don’t do it. Don’t go to Jerry Lewis‘ house. Don’t tell Diahnne Abbott you know him — you don’t!'"

"Jean Pierre-Melville was the undisputed master of the French crime drama. Here he turns his gaze on the French Resistance during World War II (of which he himself was a member) in an entirely unsentimental, unflinching portrait. It not only de-romanticizes the movement with its rigorous and austere account of the day-to-day operations in this gray world, it also indicts it. For all the good the Resistance did, its members were only human: prone to betrayal and petty revenge. The movie is so specific in its regard of the loneliness and fear of these operatives, whose everyday lives alternate between boredom and peril. Unreleased in this country for thirty-seven years, the film was an absolute revelation to me when I saw it upon its release in 2006. Already a major fan of Melville’s crime films, I loved how this one both expands and distills his unique technical skills and his ability to tap into his characters’ emotional states. What emerges is something both complex in design and deeply personal. Casablanca it is not. Melville shows us the inner workings of something so intricate and important while also asking us whether the ends truly justify the means."