Whenever I have bid a hasty goodbye to a loved one, I've always made sure that my record collection was safely stored away in the boot of the car.

I use the music almost as a compass in some kind of quasi-romantic way. I try and go to places that I'm intrigued by, and I take this music with me, using my name at the front.

When I was a kid, the world was such a big place, and I had no idea that I would be afforded these great moments in between doing what I love to do. I'm able to actually choose places to go which have intrigued me for the last god knows how many years, and Tasmania's always been one of those places. I see it all and yet I see so little because it's so fast.

You have nothing. One should never allow themselves to think that they have, one can just touch - to have is to lack appreciation, to touch is to want to touch again.

I'm British - ostensibly British - but I don't know where I really belong, you know?

I think The Song Remains The Same is such a load of old bollocks.

I like to make my voice sound like a piece of tin that's been stuck on the side of a chair, lifted up as far as it would go and then let to spring - "doooiiinng." I like to make it into a piece of metal from time to time and I can do it, both with the movements in my throat and with, uh, my little toys... So I like to take it beyond just a voice, more into the realms of a weapon.