Roy Orbison – In Dreams
We have a shrine in our studio to Roy Orbinson. It’s covered in stuffed animals with a photocopied print-out of Roy that’s been hung with a nail through the wall. Actually, I guess it’s the opposite of a shrine. It doesn’t have a very holy feeling to it although we put it up with a lot of love.

A punk, satanic shrine maybe? How come you put his picture up in the studio?

It sounds so corny, but it’s a reminder to keep pushing myself to be better. The thing about In Dreams is that it’s a pop record – easy listening. Roy Orbison was a guy teenage girls and your mom liked. But all of the songs have this dark, sinister feel to them. Like something truly wrong is lurking beneath the wholesome surface. I’m not sure if that was intentional but I think purely because of the nature of the people making the music – how fucked up they were – it couldn’t be escaped. I’m good friends with the record producer John Congleton who once said that music was so much better when ugly people were making it. Roy Orbison is the embodiment of that – he is such a fucking weird-looking guy. A true sleazeball.