Who was the person that shaped your taste most — a parent, a friend, a teacher — and what did they put on that you've never forgotten?

My dad had a very large record collection, gathered from around the world from his sea travelling days, so it had a real mix of 60s and 70s albums from artists that weren't commonly known outside their area, lots of non-English vocals, which perhaps helped me focus on listening to the other musicians and texture of the vocals rather than just the lyrics, how they were sung, rather than just what was sung. He was very into Isao Tomita and his electronic interpretations of classical scores but had also gentle pop from Francois Hardy, jazz from Django Reinhardt/Stephane Grapelly, tremolo and reverb-laden guitar from the Ventures, Japanese surf pop, and twang guitar from Duane Eddy, which got me interested in guitar sounds and placement. My mum had a large collection of singles from old jukeboxes and another real mix of stuff from T. Rex, The Beach Boys, The Beatles, and The Kinks. My grandfather had reel-to-reel recordings of Burt Bacharach songs, the Everly Brothers, and Johnny Cash. It gave me access to a much wider palette than was available on the playlisted and limited stations of radio in the 70s and 80s.

A friend introduced me to "London Calling" by the Clash, which was another game-changing album, a blast furnace of styles, anger and reaction to what was happening to Britain in the Thatcher years. It is somewhat ironic that it was commemorated on a Royal Mail stamp, about as 'establishment' as you can get. There’s a really interesting cover of “Guns of Brixton” by Nouvelle Vague, which is in some ways more menacing than the original.

What do you actually listen for when you put a record on? Is it lyrics, production, feeling, or something else entirely, and has that changed over time?

Craft, authenticity, connection.

Lyrics are pretty important; music should communicate, but how they are delivered is equally key. I love the William Shatner / Ben Folds cover of Pulp's Common People. For me it lands much harder than the original with its shift from raconteur into the snarling rage as the song progresses. I love Japanese shoegaze, Kinokoteikoku, Number Girl, and Baseball Bear, the way they throw in the occasional English lyric, but it's all supported by skilled musicianship. I love the penmanship of Rush's Neil Peart, but also the bonkers rant of Ca Plan Pour Moi or the nonsense of Cream's "Anyone for Tennis".

Over time production became much more important, especially in my days running a recording studio. A well-crafted mix, careful soundstage placement, and knowing what to leave out as well as in all contribute to the performance. Even live recordings have a significant amount of engineering in them before they are released. Many songs are overproduced, though, and technology has been abused: the loudness wars, time-aligned drums, quantised lifeless performances, auto-tuned vocals, and songs that could never be performed live because there's almost nothing left of the original performance. What's sad is when some musicians are duped into thinking they really did play that well.

If you were curating a "starter pack" of six records for someone who wanted to properly get into vinyl, what would they be and why those six?

Kind Of Blue by Miles Davies. Whilst it's a bit of a well-worn recommendation. Extraordinary craft in the musicians' performance, composition and engineering. It transports you to sitting in a hushed, darkly lit club, timeless.

The first Boston album. Tom Sholtz's combination of being a talented musician and skilled engineer enabled him to push the limits of 1970s recording to launch the sound of AOR. The genre may have its limits and spawn a lot of clichés, but a lot of what we take for granted in editing today and studio production has its roots in that album. It's 50 years old and is a perfect capture of its time.

Let it Bleed, Rolling Stones. The tracks combine the Stones' blues roots and raw performances on Love in Vain/Country Honk with the full-on production of Gimme Shelter and You Can't Always Get What You Want. It's just a great set of songs, honestly performed and captured, that still sound great and relevant today. I made a cassette copy that got me through a lot of shifts working in a restaurant kitchen.

Time (The Revelator) - Gillian Welch. Ok, you'll have to settle for CD right now, but there was recent talk of a 25th anniversary vinyl edition, so be patient! I've spent some time in rural America, and for me this captures "country USA music". It's at times bleak, honest, reflective, hopeful and a true soundtrack to driving across the miles of barely functional farmland with rusty corn elevators, dilapidated barns and abandoned machinery. Well-crafted songs, deceptively smooth production. I dream a highway is a perfect track to ease into sleep.

Led Zeppelin IV – It's another obligatory classic album, but its iconic gatefold sleeve cover, huge sound, and rock-excess-fuelled performance make it a perfect antidote to THD+N, hi res, SNR discussions. Just sit and listen to this on big speakers and be blown away. Great songs performed well, captured by skilled engineers and carefully moulded by a producer, transcend technology.

Finally, and not without some reservations due to what Morrissey has descended into, is Hatful of Hollow by the Smiths. A great collection of songs and sounds. Guitarists argue over how to get the "How Soon Is Now" sound, the capturing a live performance in a room feel, Andy Rourke's frantic bass playing, and a band in their ascendance phase. This just pushed out "Solid Air" by John Martyn; it's sometimes hard separating the music from the antics of the musicians, but in this case I'll make an exception for now.