I occasionally meet people and they say, 'Oh, I was born to Discreet Music'... They always have very weird eyes, those people.

When you build a building, you finish a building. You don't finish a garden; you start it, and then it carries on with its life. So my analogy was really to say that we composers or some of us should think of ourselves as people who start processes rather than finish them. And there might be surprises.

One of the things you're doing when you make art, apart from entertaining yourself and other people, is trying to see what ways of working feel good, what feels right.

There is a sort of convergence starting to happen between the computer and musical instruments, but it's still quite a long way off.

I suppose I am reluctant about being any sort of 'star' and I didn't particularly want to be portrayed as one.

Repetition doesn't really exist

There's a kind of edge to what you're doing, the kind of leading edge of what you're doing. Inside that edge [are elements you] are familiar with, and are probably becoming slightly bored with, as well, over a period of time. "I've pulled that one out before. Oh, no, I can't I'm just fed up with that. Let's do something else."And you always think "Oh my God I've never done anything at all like that before." But, of course, in retrospect, and to an outsider, they'll say, "Oh, yeah that's typical Eno.