"Reverend Maceo Woods was really the way I discovered gospel music. I was in the Bahamas recording with Talking Heads, the first album I did with them [More Songs About Buildings And Food] and I used to listen to the radio in my little apartment I had there before we started recording, and I'd tune into these distant mainland American stations and one morning I tuned into this song, which was called 'Surrender To The Wheel'. I thought, ""Wow! What does that mean?"" and those words kept going round in my head, it sounded so sort of Inquisition and medieval or on the other hand, cosmic. Surrender to the cosmic wheel of things. Anyway, I didn't record the song but I could remember the chorus, so I remember going into shops singing it to people and finally someone said, ""Oh, that's not 'surrender to the wheel', that's 'surrender to His will'!"" [repeats in affected accent] ""His weeyill!"", and that's how I bought this album. I loved this album so much, and in particular this one singer on it, this voice that just drove me insane. That was was Doris Sykes. So after buying all the Reverend Maceo Woods albums I could get – and they weren't that easy to get – I started thinking that, really, the thing was Doris Sykes, that was what I was interested in. She has this real insane vibrato, it's just dizzy, kind of mad. It's like somebody who is completely gone [laughs]. Something that you only ever hear in Gospel music really, and in early rock & roll you hear it sometimes as well."

"A little Whiplash anecdote is, of course, like everybody else, I had no idea who Damien Chazelle was. Jason Reitman was the one who sent me the script, in an email, for Whiplash. He sent me both the short and the feature script and just said, “Read this,” and obviously it’s from Jason so I’m gonna read it. It was again, obviously, probably one of the most brilliant scripts I had ever read and one of the best fits in terms of the character that I really immediately understood and felt like I could wrap my brain around and pull off. They said, “The writer-director would love to meet you,” and we set up a lunch, and Damien and I sat down and immediately basically agreed on everything, except he didn’t know that I had a musical background, so he was talking about how we’d have body doubles and we’d have somebody coaching me on how to wave my arms around like a conductor. And I said, “Hey, we don’t need that because actually, that’s one of the arrows I have in my quiver.” That was one of those moments where it felt like kismet, that Damien was like, “Oh, my God.” He said, “When Jason and Helen suggested you for this part, I immediately thought that’s a great idea, but I had no idea that you actually had those kinds of abilities.” And also, he didn’t write the script for me, but he wrote it with Miles Teller in mind from the beginning, and didn’t know that Miles had been playing drums since he was 15 years old."

"I don't really know what he's doing anymore musically and I haven't known for a long time, because it hasn't been his main focus for a long time, but Discreet Music is a very singular record. I'm just talking about side A: the other side is just something else. But you can play it on almost any kind of system and it works. It doesn't require hi-fi. I remember in 1978, around Christmas, my first wife and I went on a trip to Cadaqués in Spain, a place associated with Dali, and we rented a converted fisherman's cottage. It was three storeys high and an architect had worked on it, and what they'd done was they'd gutted the whole building top to bottom, and there was a staircase that ran from near the door up to the roof, which was a flat roof that you could sit on. And the floor seemed suspended. It was an amazing place. And we had a tape of this album and the kind of portable cassette player you used to have in the 70s, but you could put it on in the bottom part of the house, not even on full volume, and the room just filled. The music filtered through the whole space. I don't know any other music that could do that. He did other interesting ambient works and his early song records are good, but Discreet Music is such a singular piece. There really is nothing else like it that exists. It's just three notes. It's so simple. There's nothing to it, but it's completely musical."

"I love the orchestration, I love the sentiment, [Thom Yorke] is going through a peaceful patch on that record. He sounds like for the first time he is crooning to you a little bit, like he is a little more comfortable. He is still dealing with huge social issues in his lyrics and very deeply personal experiences as well. On 'Morning Bell' he sings: ""Where'd you park the car?"" That's the conversation your parents have when they are newly split up. They still have to share a vehicle, that is a conversation that they have to have. If you're a child of the '80s, nowadays everybody's got their own car, but that was the only communication my parents had after about six months. And when I heard it singing out in the middle of his lyrics, I just knew for sure that's what he was talking about. So, beautiful, overarching. Sometimes Thom's lyrics are like being berated. It's like being shouted at, and then at other times, he seems to pull a rainbow out of the sludge out of nowhere. That record, it could have been any of them, but that's the one I consider mine, in the same way I feel a sense of ownership of those Talk Talk records. That's the Radiohead album that's given me the most joy. It can take you back to a sad time in your life, and I think that's what good music does as well. You know it brings you forward to the present, but also reminds you of your emotional connection to something in the past. And I think if an album can do that, it's worked, basically."

"There are very few bands that I have more than two or three records by, and with Eno in particular I think everything that Brian Eno does best is on this record. I've tried to listen to other Eno records but I still get more from this one than from any of the others. There's just something about it. It's got this wonderful ramshackle element to it, but at the same time it's really experimental, and everything he does best is there. I remember listening to The Unforgettable Fire and the bits I listened to most were the bits that were obviously Eno overdubs or reflected his attitude coming through. And on that same tip it's already on Here Come The Warm Jets. Plus it's got some brilliant musicians playing on it. There's that classic guitar solo by Robert Fripp on 'Baby's On Fire'. Everybody stops talking when those 32 bars happen, or however long it is. And it moves from mood to mood. Every song on it has an atmosphere. 'Cindy Tells Me' is kind of flippant. You can imagine him writing that on a Sunday morning with a hangover, waking up in a stranger's apartment that happens to have a piano. Maybe he was thinking that Roxy was commercially successful - I wonder if I can be as well. And at the time he wasn't, of course: it was just, oh god, here's a weirdo record from that bloke that used to be in Roxy Music. But I think there are a lot of great pop tunes on there as well as it opening the door for a lot of experimentation."