The biggest revolutions are the ones that happen in-between our ears.

You can't go back and edit during the live set in the club. In the studio it's different.

If we spent as much time feeling positive about getting older, as we do trying to stay young, how much different our lives would be.

When you work on a computer in the studio, it's almost like fossilizing on the spot, you know, the idea of getting solidified on the spot, like a snowflake might create branches by accumulation.

When you're in the studio, you've got a narrative for what goes on, you might switch on a bit of gear and it might not work as you intended or come out a bit wrong, and you try and exploit it.

You can get the oldest drum machine out and whack out four sounds like a kick, snare, and two types of high-hat, and try and come up with the freshest thing on the spot. The gear can guide you - you can choose one bit of gear and it's obviously got its restrictions and its limitations, but at the same time, you've got to exploit what it's capable of and what it's best used for.

I get nostalgic for things that didn't really exist. I might have a cassette from the first time a Melle Mel track, say, got played on radio in Manchester. And it might be a copy of a copy of a copy of a tape and there's all these weird nuances and distortions that have affected what I know as the truth, if you like, of that track.