Closing every episode of Twin Peaks: The Return is an artist playing the show's Roadhouse; a musical denouement that encapsulates the show's pervading mysticism, distress, and sense of the uncanny. These artists varied from Nine Inch Nails to Chromatics, by way of a stunning solo performance by Julee Cruise, and London's The Veils closed Episode 15. Lauded for their own densely atmospheric and unsettlingly provocative sound, it's easy to hear why Lynch felt compelled to bring them in. They were, naturally, very interesting to chat to.

Firstly, how was the experience of playing The Roadhouse?

We grew up idolising Lynch and Twin Peaks was the first thing of his we saw, so being invited in obviously meant a great deal. Also we like fictional gigs - everybody dances and you don't get heckled.

How was it being on set in general and meeting Lynch? I believe I’ve read somewhere that his work has informed your own, at least vaguely.

We had a pretty surreal afternoon leading up to it just driving around LA trying to work out where the hell we were going. Everywhere looks like a David Lynch set in LA if you look hard enough. Then we got there and they were all just really cool and unpretentious, very welcoming. It was great seeing how an operation like that is run from the inside. It was some kind of quiet, elegant machine being steered by a chain-smoking monk. It was perfect, really. Both Dean and David were so encouraging with us, it really reinvigorated us a lot with that last record.

What I’m most curious to get your opinion on, is whether we can translate Lynchianism into a purely sonic landscape? Or is it too fundamentally cinematic?

I guess anyone who makes things sets out to create their own little world, but what I find so unique about Lynch is the extent to which he makes our world his own. Lloyd Wright's Beverley Johnson House, the 4th Street Bridge in LA, the back of the Palace Theatre that was the entrance to Club Silencio, any old American Diner car park, they're all his now. Once you've seen them through his eyes you can't see them any other way again. But I don't know why you'd ever want to translate him into purely one thing, you'd miss all the other stuff too much.

Even if we can’t capture a Lynchian world, your music does a helluva job of capturing the uncanny, the strange, the unfamiliar. Can you tell us about what aesthetic design choices go into producing this?

I agree with David's angle on this that making things really does feel analogous to dreaming. You get an idea, the dream begins, and you have no choice but to follow it and see where you'll end up. I've never felt like I had a great deal of control over the whole enterprise. Whenever I get too consciously involved I just get in the way.

What is it, do you think, that captivates people with the uncanny; both in Lynch’s work and in your own?

Oh man, it's a good question, but I'd really have no idea how to answer that. I just work here. Basically, I think it's always a pleasure to get to see the world differently.

Your lyrics are often abstruse and mystifying; how important is the thematic content of them against their atmospheric effect?

Again I think I'm really not the person to ask. I sometimes spend years with these songs before anyone else hears them, so what they mean to me is totally different. I guess I do like to lean on a narrative in a song, or just put myself in the mind of someone or something that's at once very similar and utterly abstracted from my own experiences. I've written a song from the perspective of an expectant mother, a flock of birds, a televangelist, a salamander... I like to be taken somewhere else by them too.

Speaking of the atmospheric effect; if there’s one critical motif to your music, one takeaway for the listener – whether experiential or emotional – what would it be?

Without meaning to be rude, I'm really not all that concerned with what you take away from it - if I was I think I'd go about it all very differently. I guess fundamentally I want you to relate to what I'm saying and come along with me, but I also totally understand if you can't be arsed or you'd rather just go for a nice walk or something. I have a very low tolerance for music that's trying to manipulate or impress me, or make me think that's it's cool or clever or that it feels just like me or that it likes my shoes. It seems to me that if you're doing it right you shouldn't really have to try.

Beyond the bands we’ve seen on the show, and Angelo of course, what other music can you recommend that aligns with this unsettling design?

Oh, I dunno. Maybe Abba? They do really weird stuff to me. I'd like to get to know Benny and Björn, I feel like they must have seen some truly terrifying things...

The Veils' new EP Swimming With The Crocodiles is out now, and you can watch the live video of the title track below. They're playing London's Islington Assembly 4th December.