"I think the idea is happening upon something without any clue as to what context it comes from. That has been the important thing to me. What do they think about this? Is this pop music to them? Is it religious? One very good example for me was I was in Ibiza listening to North African radio stations and this Arabic song came on and I thought: ""Fuck, I've never heard anything like that."" I had a cassette recorder in this little ghetto blaster so I managed to record a little bit of it, but I couldn't figure out what the name of the artist was or anything, so again I just used to walk into record shops where they sold Arabic records and I would sing this song, but I never found it like that. Then I was in Egypt about 12 years later and I was in a market, and there was a guy selling loads of cassettes so I sang this song to him, and in the meantime I'd changed all of the lyrics, which were in Arabic, into English. In fact, the lyrics I've since found out are ""hebeena, hebeena"", but I was singing it as ""heaviness, heaviness"". So I sung this whole song in English to him with this Arabic melody and he was cracking up. He called all his mates over from the other local stalls and was getting me to do it again. So I sang it again and then asked him, ""What is this song?"" and he said that it was Farid El Atrache. He picked out this cassette and that was the song, I'd finally found it. So to have that experience is almost impossible now."

"It's an unstoppable record. I nicked my copy so I never had a sleeve for it, so I never got any of the song titles or anything like that. But again it's a very complete record. It's one of the few albums that I can just leave on and it can play all the way through and you don't go oh, not this track again, I hate this song. Everything on it sounds like it was recorded in somebody's bedroom. I've never even looked up how they actually did do it, but I just love that the machines and the loops they used were pretty much standard for the dance crowd, and things like where I would have said oh, not that beat again, everybody's heard that loop, you know, actually they turned round and said ah, but if we do it like this it sounds really good. And the production on it is amazing. Some of the things that are going on with the timings on the compressors and the noise gates, on that level there's plenty to listen to, as well as the songs being great. The dynamics and the editing in and out and the mixes are really quite something else. I wonder sometimes if it's only because I've made records myself that I get how much work must've gone into that to make it happen. But at the same time it still sounds like it was done in a bedroom. But again, they're very minimalist in what they use. They pick their shots. When they do something they make sure it's in the right way and in the right place. There's nothing in there that clouds the water or gets in the way of the vocals or loses the bass. It's always relevant."

"That was from John Peel, where I discovered load of music when I was younger. It was a free album given away with their first album. I remember John Peel didn't really play the proper album, he just played the dub version. I had taped most of the tracks off the radio but I didn't have a copy, and ended up finding it at a market about ten years ago. To me that's like Thatcher Music - it came out about the time that Thatcher came to power and in some ways you can hear that, it's got this cold harshness, like its anticipating the shit that's going to go down, especially the track called 'Paranoia Claustrophobia', it's great but it's pretty dark. I got told off for playing that. In the aftermath of Margaret Thatcher dying you weren't supposed to mention her. I was doing the show at the time, I thought it was a big event and didn't really like the fact that we weren't allowed to mention it. Tony Benn had died a few months earlier and as soon as that happened everyone was going 'loony left' and stuff like that, nobody seemed to take much care about whether they were going to upset his family, but as soon as Margaret Thatcher died it was 'oh don't speak ill of her, have some respect'. So you weren't allowed to play records that referenced her and you weren't supposed to mention her, but I played that Basement Five and said something like 'music from the Thatcher era' and ten minutes later somebody came down and said 'don't say things like that'. Tory governments are always going on about how the BBC is a hotbed of socialism but I got told off for that so I don't think there's much truth in it."

"I forget quite which year this album came out [2004], but it was an astonishing time for new music. There were wonderful albums by Martha Wainwright, Antony And The Johnsons and Arcade Fire. Micah P. Hinson's record was another – it was so simple. It didn't really have choruses or verses – he had a thing which I call a 'ver-chorus', which is something in between the two. It was totally memorable and his words never fail to hit the mark. The simplicity means that the album depends very strongly on the arrangement and they are impeccable. They remind me of Leonard Cohen in some ways. He has a wonderfully deep voice. He seems to have gone through some kind of hell. I am not quite sure what it was – he made reference to it when I saw him play a show. Every single lyric hits home to me. Some of them sound a bit like homilies to me, but the way he sings them makes you believe him. There is not a dud track and I still listen to it, to this day. I have tried many of his later songs, but this is the record if you want an introduction to Micah P. Hinson. It's a great record. When you asked for the list, I could have chosen bands that meant more to me – I didn't choose a record by The Doors – and I could have easily included Martha Wainwright's debut, but in the end I had to be honest with myself and come back to the records I cannot stop playing. This is one of them. It was a toss-up between Martha and Micah, and I went for Micah in the end."

"Well, that was another one I burned on my way. At first, I was into the earlier John Coltrane, and then when he went into more free jazz, at first I didn't like it as much because I was so into his early tone and the swing and the melody of this more classic jazz, but the next one's more like that. Jesse [Trbovich, bandmate in the Violators] turned me on to it. We got stuck on the way home from an LA show or somewhere, we got dumped off in Phoenix, Arizona, and we had to stay for the night. We knew a really good record store there, Revolver Records, there was just a ton of jazz. I was wanting to stock up so I got Interstellar Space as a recommendation. When I first listened, I was like, [shrugs] yeah, 'cause he's just freaking out, just him and a drummer, Rashied Ali, then I burned it anyway. Usually what happens is that it sounds so good 'cause it's burned from those original vinyls and then you crank it in your headphones and it just sounds unreal, so that's what happened with that one on the way to Joshua Tree. My mind was blown and it's just so open and such raw emotion and so psychedelic without any of the pretensions that 'psychedelic' eventually became - he's just the real thing. It's just wide open and sprawling. 'Lost My Head' for sure has that jazz influence... obviously it's a white man's, with limited skill. The convenience of the key of C, for instance - you play all those sevenths with the same formation all over the place, so that's why the piano's beautiful, but that's got the McCoy Tyner or whatever thing in it."

"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"

"If I were to have one at the moment, I think Chris [Cummings, AKA Marker Stalling] is my favourite composer. There's a lot of depth; there are a lot of nooks and crannies and obscure pockets to dive into, not at first listen but with each repeat. The album reveals its beauty after many listens, and each time you listen more it's like, ah yes! It's another one of those records that you can listen to forever, whatever mood you're in. I remember last year I took a long road trip to France and I was meeting friends, so each time I would play it, and in whatever circumstances, the music would fit. In happy circumstances it was great, but on another occasion I remember a friend had lost their dad, and it was very soothing and healing. It's another album that holds a lot of magic and is forever comforting. If it's hot it freshens you up, if it's cold it warms you up! It's great. He wrote a song for my last album as well. I'm a big fan. And live it's extraordinary. His backing band is Batch: we just did a residency together, they're amazing. I was watching their video last night actually, a little live thing from a festival, and those guys are brilliant. I can't believe how great they are, in terms of being really good musicians with great songs and also the heart, how they play. They are very implied in what they play. A lot of musicians I've seen in the past are just going through the moves, there's no energetic involvement or heart in their playing. Technically it's probably quite good, but to me it's very boring. But with these guys, I remember seeing them and I thought they were so good, but part of me wanted to make fun of them, but I couldn't because there was so much heart in their playing that I could only love them. So when Chris comes to the UK or tours Europe usually Batch are his backing band, and it's brilliant. But there are usually only ten or twenty people watching them. Maybe now it's a little bit more, but it's like, come on people, this is really amazing! He's an amazing performer who's full of surprises. He's very warm and super funny and excellent: I can't recommend him enough."

"Hip-hop has always been such a big thing for me, particularly hip-hop production. So many of my favourite producers growing up, and the reason why I wanted to make produced music, came from people like RZA, Premier, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, Timbaland and early Neptunes, early Kanye even - and Madlib and J Dilla are both right up there. I picked these two albums [J Dilla's Donuts is also on the list] that came out on the same label and from the same scene rather than say, Illmatic, because at that point in my life there was a sense of like, no matter how much I liked Public Enemy or A Tribe Called Quest records, I was coming to them late. But I can remember Madvillainy leaking way in advance and thinking it was so exciting being there for it happening. I think it will be remembered as a classic record. I've got to know Madlib since then, which is amazing because he's an absolute hero. I'm coming to hip-hop more from a production point of view rather than listening to the MCing or the lyrics - that's because I produce music. But this is a record where the Doom part and the Madlib are so perfectly matched. It's like the greatest hits of beat producing - every track is completely insane. The way he cuts up the samples is so, so heavy! I think it's pretty much perfect. It's so eccentric. There aren't that many genres of music where eccentricity is embraced in the same way. This is a really, really weird record, but it's totally canonised as being a classic record. That's wonderful. Maybe in the same way Theo Parrish's music is - people embrace that weirdness, but there are other genres of music where they don't. The feeling I got when I made Swim - and it was a little revelation - was that if you asked your general public person about dance music they'd say it's all the same and formulaic, there's got to be a repetitive beat and blah blah blah. But the fact that there is a kind of repetitive rhythmic element is actually quite liberating - so long as it's got that framework you can do anything else on top of it. You don't necessarily have to have something that functions as a song. And hip-hop's the same thing - so long as there's a beat that moves you, the other things around it don't really matter, you can do what you like. You can have a sample of a Pakistani singer over the top or an old soul record or even just random drum machine hits firing off all over the place - there's a crazy variety of things Madlib does when he's producing. But because it still makes your head nod, you can leave that area and be more free."

"And then after that I got into Good Old Boys, which is a more refined thing, and at first I was like, no, I like Sail Away better, but Good Old Boys: he'll be singing like a love song, like a song like 'Marie', best love song ever, but then if you listen close, he's like, ""I love you the first time I saw you, and I will always love you Marie"". And then you realise, y'know, ""I don't listen to a word you say, when you're in trouble I just turn away"". You realise it's a love song from an asshole, a Southern asshole basically! There's another song on there, called 'Guilty', and that killed me. You've got to listen to the lyrics on that song. He starts out: ""Yes, baby, I been drinking, and I shouldn't come by I know, but I found myself in trouble, and I had nowhere else to go"", but then the production's amazing, it just kicks in with the drums and he's like: ""Got some whisky from the barman, got some cocaine from a friend"", and then it builds up and builds up, he's talking to his girlfriend. He's obviously a shit and he's shown up drunk at her doorway, and the punchline at the end is: ""You know I just can't stand myself and it takes a whole lot of medicine for me to pretend that I'm somebody else."" It's incredible! He always mocked the singer-songwriter thing, even though he was inspired by it. I say that in his moments like 'Guilty' and 'Marie', he says it better than Bob Dylan or anybody, or even Neil Young; obviously they're still talented at being real, they're both clever, they can put you on psychedelically any time they want and say [their lyrics] mean something or not and give a very cool response - not too cool, they can just answer any way they want, just be immortal. But Randy Newman has the concise moment that hits you in the gut; sometimes, I think, he's nailed it better than Bob Dylan. I totally think it's important to have humour in records. That's my personality anyway, but that's the best thing you can do, really. Because I was sometimes sad or melancholy, but I think the people that just ran that home, like in the grunge era, fucking like Smashing Pumpkins - I liked them when I was a kid - or even Eddie Vedder - no offence on them really, but at the same time they're victims of thinking there was this movement, like in the '70s, that there was this utopian dream that they'd change the world, like Crosby or something. But it's too one-sided after a while. Like fucking darkness in grunge - I don't know, no relief whatsoever? It's bullshit, it's too one-sided, it's not the way life is: life isn't that fucked, but it is. I just think that people, when they get too dramatic, it comes off like a bummer."