"I used to have a studio in Brondesbury Villas up in Kilburn and there was a little book shop that I used to go to and one day they were playing this record. I think she is one of the great musicians alive at the moment; she plays bass but she plays it with such ferocity. She's a very interesting person to work with because she doesn't think at all in terms of chords or anything. You just play a track to her and she just starts to do something. She comes up with the most amazing riffs that are just completely unlike anything anyone would think of doing. The go-go scene she came out of was a particular approach to rhythm, and it's very contained. It's not at all splashy. It's all about really intricate, tight and accurate rhythm. I was in Montreux in 1995, I was working with David [Bowie] on that album, Outside, and the festival was on. I heard this music coming from the festival place and I thought, ""Wow, what is that?"", and it was her with her seven-piece band, who were the meanest looking people you've ever seen. This giant on the drums, two guitar players with these kind of slitty shades playing the meanest funk guitar. It was the probably the best show I ever saw. I was shivering with excitement. It's so harmonically dangerous. It's so strange what the instruments are playing. If you heard them in the abstract you'd think you could never put these together into a song. They're off on their own trips and somehow they just cohere together."

"I grew up in a house with two older brothers, and my parents played music a lot. I remember that Prince just used to be on in the car. Parade is one that I remember from a young age more than the others. I remember bringing a tape of Purple Rain into school and playing 'When Doves Cry' and people dancing to that. I remember all of those records in a bit of a blur. I remember being in the playground at school, and singing to myself the song 'Under The Cherry Moon' from that album, and also 'New Position'. Lyrics would just come into my head because I heard them so much at home. Parade is just the one of all of them that I believe is the least dated to the time that it was made. It feels quite adventurous musically. I always thought it was Prince and the band, but actually, the first four songs he just sat down and made in one continuous go. He played the drum parts for the first four tracks in sequence, and then overdubbed the rest of the instruments. It's a really amazing sequence. The rhythms are changing and the tracks speed up and slow down, but it has this great live feel to it. It's really unusual instrumentation for what is essentially a funk record - it's got double bass, it's got strings and orchestrations There are some very short, odd songs, but they're these real bursts of energy. His lyrics are really playful on 'New Position', but then it goes to something more melodramatic on 'Under The Cherry Moon', then there's 'Girls & Boys' which is one of the biggest tunes on the record outside of 'Kiss'. It doesn't feel like a very mainstream or chart-orientated record. It feels like a very eccentric record that only Prince could have made."

"When I want to cheer myself up, I think of Ian Dury – the best lyricist in English music, who fused music hall and funk, the first Cockney rapper. The music is always there and the music is very good, but it’s easy to miss the joyous flow of words when you’re listening to it. That’s where Hallo Sausages: The Lyrics of Ian Dury, edited by his daughter, is sublimely useful. Along with great photographs and a tender memoir, it collects the words for all the songs. So you can actually read “Reasons to Be Cheerful (Part Three)”, and get all the brilliant internal rhymes: “Seeing Piccadilly, Fanny Smith and Willy / Being rather silly and porridge oats.” There’s that great exercise in admiration and mockery, “There Ain’t Half Been Some Clever Bastards” – people like Einstein and Van Gogh – with its running refrain: “Probably got help from their mum who had help from her mum.” And everyone’s favourite, “Hit me With Your Rhythm Stick” (“Two fat persons, click, click, click”). Who couldn’t love a songwriter who has a song called “Plaistow Patricia”? Actually, my favourite Dury song is not cheerful, but terribly sad, “You’ll See Glimpses”, which takes the form of a letter written by someone who has been locked up because his mind doesn’t work properly. This letter is utopian: the inmate lists everything he would do to sort out “the problems of the world”. It ends: “This has been got out by a friend.” Go and listen to it – Dury doesn’t sing but reads the words, jauntily. Yet it’s profoundly sad, and seems to me as great a work of art as any novel or short story of the last 40 years."