"Well everything’s been said about it, hasn’t it? Again, it was around the same time as Bring It On. I went out to South Africa for a gap year to work on a school. It was just as I was starting to smoke weed, it was exciting, and there were no responsibilities in life. I remember we didn’t have a music system out there, we had no money and a mate of mine went and bought a cassette player, it was a single deck cassette player, with terrible tinny speakers, but I had copied a tape of OK Computer before leaving! I don’t think I played any other album for about a year, it was on permanent rotation. What I found so compelling about it was that you can’t hear a single thing this guy’s singing! He has this real slurred delivery with every song and it was just an assault on the brain in terms of the production and the instrumentation and it was all coming through this terrible little tape player in South Africa! I thought I’d figured out what I thought the lyrics were and, largely, a lot of them were wrong, but I didn’t have the inlay card so I didn’t know! I just remember this haze of completely falling in love with the sound of this record and what I thought were the words. They really summed up the way a lot of people felt at the time, the alienation and the fear of a quickly changing world, all the pre-millennium stuff. It summed up the world that I occupied. It’s why it’s still the greatest album that I think has been put out in my lifetime; they're a band who, at that point, reached their songwriting peak, and [Thom Yorke]’s never got there since as far as I’m concerned. They were still young enough to have that punky quality but old enough to have those ballads that leave you feeling quite cold like 'Lucky' and 'No Surprises'. At that time, we were all just desperate to be Radiohead, everyone had the same set-ups and the same guitars! I can’t listen to it anymore though - as a band, if you’re influenced too much by one thing, as we were, it can kind of stifle you."

"I think I was definitely one of the people who saw an excerpt on Tomorrow's World on Kraftwerk in 1975, and they were saying this is the mental, extreme edge of music, where they're doing it all with electronics and Kraftwerk were just about the only band who did this. Before The Human League, you would have heard 'Autobahn' on the radio occasionally, and maybe 'The Model', but that's about it, if you were lucky. And it was looked upon as really out there. It's more naturally linked with classical music, synth-pop, whereas rock & roll came from a different branch of music. I don't think I actually bought The Man Machine until I was 14 or 15, probably six or seven years after it was released. There's an awful lot of records that I love that I didn't really give a proper listen to until I was in my early twenties. I think there's a lot of fear in music, and listening to music, and a lot of people not wanting to go outside of their comfort zone. I remember when I was 12 or 13, my elder brother listening to some very strange music that he would have heard off John Peel or something, and I would half listen out of the corner of my ear and then run away, because it was so alien to me! It's only with time and with age and experience that you let yourself listen to things that would've sent you running in the old days. I've seen them live twice. The first time, I think I almost wet myself, it was at Tribal Gathering in 1997. It was the first time they'd performed in years and it was like a whole generation had come through absolutely worshipping Kraftwerk and suddenly they were back on the scene. The five minutes in that steaming tent were just the most exciting moments - the whole crowd was just feeling and waiting that this is finally going to happen after years and years. Then the curtains finally opened with the vocoder'ed voice and everybody just completely wet themselves - brilliant! They really give it some on stage, don't they - show men! It's all pretty static, but you wouldn't want it any other way."

"Along with Sufjan, I think Regina Spektor is the other genius of this generation. I could have picked a number of Regina's records. Soviet Kitsch is the crossover, when she became accessible to a larger audience. Her first two records are records that only if you are slightly bipolar and, like me, a fantasist in music, are going to love. Soviet Kitsch found the language that was going to meet that wider audience. The songs are crazy masterpieces. They straddle a line between pop – there are catchy choruses – and craziness. 'Us' is one of my favourite songs ever written and will be played at my funeral. I got into Regina because I had bumped into her producer [Gordon Raphael], who was also the producer for The Strokes, at a festival. He has just finished working with her and he raved about this crazy woman who would play piano while hitting a drumstick against a drum stool. I had to go and check her out after that. Soviet Kitsch is astonishing, as are the ones that follow. I saw her play at The Greek in LA and realised I was watching genius. I couldn't write a song for three months after seeing her show, as I was so in awe at what I had witnessed. I have never had that experience happen before. I went back and bought every single piece of her music and for three months listened to her day and night, trying to work out what the fuck she was doing. I still haven't worked it out. I think she is channelling – she is a witch and she is channelling and that is all there is to it. I fell in love with her and was lucky enough to meet her. I was even luckier to become friends with her and her husband, and it has been amazing to have her as a genuine friend. Her husband, Jack [Dishel], made this fabulous YouTube video [:DRYVRS] with Macaulay Culkin and it became a viral sensation. Jack is fantastically talented and a natural-born stand-up comedian. He will have you belly-laughing whenever you talk to him with his honesty and gawkiness. I haven't told many people that I have become friends with both of them, and I am a little shy about telling you that."