"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."

"This is when I was at Art School, on foundation, in Winchester. I went early for the term that starts around May, wandered into town and the local record shop was having a sale. There were two records I bought cheap that day: A Wizard, A True Star by Todd Rundgren, and Can't Buy A Thrill by Steely Dan. Those two records I must've listened to a billion times. A Wizard, A True Star is a truly bonkers record. I don't know if someone who didn't know anything about Todd Rundgren could go back and listen to it today and get anything about it. It starts with 'International Feel' with this semi-cosmic synth riff, which goes down through beats into this song with really loud drums on it, and then peters out and suddenly it's the song from The Wizard Of Oz! But that's Rundgren, really. I just sat in my room and listened to it thinking ""this is fantastic!"" Mild hallucinogens may be useful in its appreciation. Mike Barnes, the journalist, is a friend of mine and a few years back we went to see Todd Rundgren play A Wizard, A True Star live in its entirety. And what Mike said about Todd is you just have to go with it, basically. It doesn't make any sense. It goes from the sublime to the ridiculous, and there almost seems to be no taste filter with Todd. There's a book called Todd Rundgren In The Studio, and he's supposed to be this studio wizard but you realise after reading it that he's completely slapdash! He's such a messy producer! He made a huge amount of money out of Bat Out Of Hell, but he got kicked off the project as a producer because they didn't like any of his mixes. But he believed in the project so much he invested in it, and ended up taking a percentage on it and made a fortune from it. That shows that he's someone who is smart but won't necessarily attend to details, and will still maintain goodwill towards a project he's been sacked from. I like that; I admire that."

"Hope Sandoval is one of my favourite female singers, her vocal tones are incredible. It’s the kind of voice that makes you fall in love with the person without knowing anything about them. Hope Sandoval sings on a few Massive Attack records too and they’re amazing. I love this whole Mazzy Star record, So Tonight That I Might See. It’s the kind of record I never get sick of. When I first heard it about 10 years ago it was because a girl I liked was into Mazzy Star. I’d heard the name but I’d never actually heard any songs. So I put ‘Bells Ring’ on and I thought it was amazing. Straightaway, I thought it was such a brilliant song and I knew I would definitely be listening to it a lot. The girl I liked said, ""Do you like Mazzy Star?"" so I just quickly said, “Yeah, I love them, I love ‘Bells Ring’, that’s my favourite song!” I later discovered she was annoyed because ‘Bells Ring’ was her favourite song and she felt like she couldn’t say so or it would be like she was copying me. What she didn’t know was that I had never heard it before and she was the one who introduced it to me. Sometimes I think that when someone introduces you to a song it’s better than finding it on your own, because then you connect it more with a specific time and place and it ends up meaning more. It’s the act of sharing. One of my favourite things about listening to music is passing it onto other people, when you play a record for someone and they play one to you. That’s how The Horrors became a band. Playing each other records that we hadn’t heard was how we became a group of friends and a band. Sharing music has always been really central to my life. It’s the same with creating Cat’s Eyes. Rachel and I exchanged playlists. Some people I know are so protective of the music they discover and try to hide their discoveries. That attitude is so far away from my attitude to music"