That was the first dance music record I really been into. That was during a trip to Paris with my parents. The first thing I did when I arrived from Nice in Paris was going to a record store and get that record. I didn't even know at that time that it was based on «Good Times» by Chic. I was just amazed by how these guys were rhyming with this funky tune behind.

In 1982. I was very young at that time. It was one of the first concerts I've been to just for the music. It was in a big stadium and I was very impressed by that. And music wise it was incredible – it had all the magic of a big concert, the lightings... Since he is blind, he couldn't walk on stage, so everything had to move towards him. So I remember the piano moving on two rails across the stage. That really stunned me.

The whole album. But I have to say I like almost everything he as done until «Love On The Beat», which is still okay. I mean now it's okay. And actually I:Cube made a track out of a sample of «Lemon Incest», which is very cool. To me, Gainsbourg was extremely innovative in his productions, he was so aware of what was going on and was always so on point.

But for me there's something very deep in sadness that I like. So this song doesn't make me feel just sad. It makes me feel very introspective. I discovered this track when I was coming out of a party. I think I was very drunk and got in my car, turned on the radio and there was this tune. It's a very sad song... Usually Mal Waldron is not too much my kinda jazz, but this track is very special.

I’m excited by so many records, I never really had this problem. And with the internet nowadays, I always find very quickly what I’m looking for.

It’s a super emotional record.

The first record I remember would probably be an Arabic record. Because my parents were born in Tunisia and my grandparents as well. So when I grew up they were listening a lot to this kinda music. I can't say which record exactly. Maybe an Oum Kalsum record or something like that, like Egyptian music or Libanese music.

I wouldn't like to have a song played at my funeral. I would like to have my friends have a party after my funeral. But during my funeral I'd like to have a Jewish prayer, a Kaddich, read by my son above my grave.

Because it's full of love and full of soul, smoothness.

I bought an mp3-player for my running. I think it’s a very good moment to listen to new stuff. I used to always joke around with my friend Ivan Smagghe, who has more of a New Wave background opposed to me coming from black music, about his strange taste in music. But recently he played me this amazing podcast program called «Minimal Electronics» by DJ Veronica. It’s a pure New Wave show. And I only got into New Wave like six months ago... But now I’m filling up my mp3-player only with New Wave tracks for when I’m going jogging. Lots of French and Belgium stuff, for instance: Deux - Paris Orly.

I wasn't so much into their first album, I was more into their second album «It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back». To me that was a kind of a mind-blowing record, because it was a collage of many different sounds, a sonic blast. And this tune is one I still can't resist to go on the dabcefloor and go wild to.

It reflects Paris like it used to be, some kinda «Lost Paris». Respect due to Jacques Lanzmann who recently died. A great songwriter.

There are so many. But I would say a Franck Timm record. Timm is a producer from Berlin (and one half of Smith N Hack), which I discovered quite early – around 1997. I always wanted to make a record with this guy but it never happend, cuz he's just doing music for himself. I like this mixture of very cutting edge chopping samples and funkiness.

I was into records since I was very young and I remember being at my grandparent's place every wednesday. They had a turntable and they had a record collection which I always checked. And whenever I went out with my grandparents they bought me a record. And the very first one I remember was «Hafanana». This was this almost kinda clichee black guy – without being pejorative – he was like «the nice nigger» or something like that, the funny one. And another record I remember I got at a very early age was this guy called. Michel Delpech. I must have been about 4 years old when I asked my grandparents to buy me that one.

Especially the early stuff he's done. Because he was the first artist I signed for Versatile Records and I was really stunned by his productions straight away. I remember that he sent me a tape when I was working at the Radio station Nova in Paris. I thought this music was very mature and it goes in many directions. I've been very involved with his music. Still today this music is very emotional. We build a weird relationship throughout the time – it's not too familiar but at the same time we share something because we make music together and know each other for so long, which is very special.

I actually discovered this tune only just recently. I wasn't so much into Georges Brassens, but a friend of mine was and introduced me to his music. The arrangement is very simple, it's just guitar and a bass, and the lyrics are very touching. It's about something probably a lot of people expeirence: You walk down the street or you are in a club and you see someone and you just imagine what could have happend or you think it's the woman of my life but she just crosses your way for a second and is gone.