Musician Nitin Sawhney and producer David McEwan on their special relationship

'In music the people you surround yourself by become like family - I think of David as a brother': Nitin Sawhney with David McEwan. Photograph: Philip Griffin

I was working at MTV and writing music for adverts when I met Nitin in 1998. We were introduced by his manager because Nitin needed his new Mac set up – this was back in the day when no one really knew how to set up a?computer. I went round to his place in Tooting and did the job. I started pointing out little things that he could reconfigure in his studio – which was chaotic, to say the least – to make it easier for him to work in, and he asked me to help him out. He was just about to start work on Beyond Skin.

When Nitin and I are in work mode, we're very much working. Then we clock out and we start joking again – the friendship and working relationship never spill over into one another. He's intense and very driven, so it took me a few years to really get to know him. I feel lucky to be working with Nitin – we've had an amazing journey. He's put me in situations I?never dreamed would be possible: mixing for the London Symphony Orchestra, big high-pressure projects. He puts a?lot of trust in me in live gigs and in the studio – it's up to me to make his performance sound right for the audience, which is not a job I take lightly. Nitin's trust and belief in me have helped my career, and the loyalty goes both ways.

We fell out once a few years ago – we'd spent way too much time together. We had a blow-up at the airport and I?went back to Australia [where he grew up] for a while, but we made up quite quickly. We're both opinionated, and if I think something is shit, I'll say. We're kindred spirits like that.

Our friendship is based on music, but I can talk to Nitin about other things, too. We're quite blokey, though, so it's not like you'd ever catch us crying on each other's shoulders.

I was sharing a flat with people in London and had a room at the top of the stairs which was basically a stereo system, keyboard and new computer – the good old days! David came and reconfigured my whole set-up. He seemed like a?sharp, intelligent guy. He was meticulous and a perfectionist – which appealed to me as I am, too. Our working together felt like a natural connection straightaway; we bounced off each other. It's so important that David works with me – he's been my front-of-house engineer for a long time and in the studio he's just as essential. Recently, we recorded straight to vinyl, and I?knew he was someone I could trust with that process.

He's very funny. We've spent so much time on the road as a band and he keeps the whole tour bus entertained with his impersonations and characters – he has fantastic comedic timing. It's very rare in life: someone who is brilliant, really knows what they're doing and is also a lovely guy.

David and I are both alpha males and clear on what we think works. It's the longest creative relationship I've ever had. We've worked on incredible projects together: Cirque du Soleil, the Proms, Electric Proms, the Sydney Opera House. He's a sounding board; he'll tell me the honest truth.

We hang out socially with his wife, but dinner in each other's homes is something we're still working towards, although I'm not a great cook, so I don't know that he will necessarily want to come to mine. In music, the people you surround yourself by become like family. We look after each other – and I think of David as a brother.

Nitin Sawhney's album OneZero, a retrospective of his career, is out now on deluxe vinyl box set, CD and download on Metropolis Recordings

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‧ This article was amended on 18 July 2013. The original photo caption failed to credit the photographer, Philip Griffin. This has been corrected.

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I prefer women who don't shave their pubic hair

Body hair arrangements can enhance or undermine lovemaking. Photograph: John Gollop/Getty Images

I am a single man nostalgic for the days before the fashion for an entirely hairless mons veneris. Am I the only man in the world who still likes a floridly sprouting bush? But "natural" is not without problems: I sometimes find that, having persuaded a woman to avoid pruning, I regret it when curlicues get in the way, causing irritation. Would it be too particular to request an au-naturel appearance, with spot-trimming at entry-point?

Some women might take exception to any expectation regarding preferred topiary, but if you are polite and time it correctly, you may avoid a sharp jab to the goolies. Other women might appreciate the attention to detail, wish to please you, and even find it both a relief and a turn-on. But better not to ask until you have reached an understanding that, as established lovers, you are entitled to make such requests of each other. And don't expect it to be all one-way; ask what accommodations she would like in return (if she has a sense of humour, she will demand a complete "back, sack and crack"). For some highly visually attuned people, body hair arrangements can enhance or undermine lovemaking experiences.

On the other hand, since pheromones that are secreted to play a role in sexual attraction may be held in body hair, biologically, women with more pubic hair are sexier. So essentially, your preference is scientifically based. Play that one up next time.

‧ Pamela Stephenson Connolly is a psychotherapist who specialises in treating sexual disorders

‧ If you would like advice from Pamela Stephenson Connolly on sexual matters, send us a brief description of your concerns to private.lives@guardian.co.uk (please don't send attachments).

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Paddy Considine and Nick Hemming on their long and easy friendship

The band She Talks to Angels with Nick Hemming (left) and Paddy Considine (right). Photograph: Courtesy of Paddy Considine Paddy Considine. Photograph: Getty Images

I'd been hanging out with kids at the rougher end of Winshill [in Burton upon Trent] until I met Nick at 15. He was from the other end of town, the one I considered to be full of snobs. Spending time with my mates on the estate meant getting up to mischief, so there was an appeal in hanging out with Nick and Richard, who'd introduced us. Richard's dad had recording equipment in his garage, so Nick and I would be there for hours recording adverts and dubbing them and recording our own little radio shows. We bonded over Guns N' Roses and created fake comedy/heavy metal bands inspired by Spinal Tap. It was the first time in my life I'd realised that you could do something creative and have fun without being destructive. I'd been looking for a voice, an outlet and somebody to listen to me, and my friendship with Nick and joining youth theatre were two turning points in my life that coincided.

Nick was a great influence. He was a steady, solid person – he still is. We have never had a hard time together or fallen out. He hasn't altered over time, and he lacks the neuroses I?? ?have, so our 24-year friendship has been smooth sailing.

Watching Nick develop as a musician and performer has been a pleasure, and when we work together [Nick wrote the song "We Were Wasted" for Tyrannosaur, a film Paddy wrote and directed] it's always special. When he wrote it, I'd just finished writing the film, and hearing it was a really profound moment for me: it felt like it was about us, where we grew up. There's a great joy in being able to create something with a friend you have a long history with. When? you make that creative connection, it's magic.

What Happened To The Get To Know Ya? the new album from Paddy's band Riding the Low is out now (ridingthelow.co.uk)

Nick Hemming. Photograph: Rex Features

At first I was intimidated by Paddy – he had a reputation for being a bit of a? hard nut. Turns out he wasn't a fighter at all! I'd never met anyone like him. He had such a big personality. He was funny and always doing impressions and accents – I'd hang out with Paddy all day and never hear his real voice. Everyone always knew there was something special about him. When I was 18, Paddy and I formed a ?band, She Talks to Angels (pictured above), with Shane Meadows, and we thought we were going to conquer the world. Paddy was on drums and I played guitar. It was all rubbish, but we thrived in one another's company even though we came from separate worlds. Forming that band totally changed my life. Up until then I was quite academic, but I soon started attending the art college where Paddy and Shane were studying. My parents worried a lot. From that moment, the only thing I could imagine doing was music.

Paddy's one of the only people I've kept in touch with from my teenage years. Whenever we hook up, we slip into the way things have always been – it's an easy friendship, and not high on drama. Paddy's an inspiration, really. I'm quite introspective, whereas he forges forward and tries new things. I once went to visit him while he was filming in Dublin and we spent the night getting drunk. He was angry with me for not having put out an album I'd been working on and kept saying: "Just get it out there and stop thinking about it so much!" That sums up the difference between us, but also why we are friends in the first place.

Nick's band The Leisure Society will release its new single "All I Have Seen" on 29 July through Full Time Hobby (theleisuresociety.co.uk)

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Dave Berry and Alex Zane on their bromance

'I like being his crutch': Dave Berry. Photograph: David Fisher/Rex Features

Alex and I have been on a bumpy road to what's become a loving "bromance". We?overcame a period of shared dislike, and even exchanged physical blows. About six years ago we came out of that and realised that we were two gentlemen who'd both been dealt a great deal?of luck in our careers. We were so young when we met – a couple of 22-year-olds thrown together by MTV [Berry and Zane were hired as presenters in 2002].

Alex is one of the few people who understands what it's like doing what I do and the experiences I've had, both positive and negative, through my work. That's special, and?subsequently the basis of a very strong friendship.

When I joined XFM, Alex was really welcoming. He was great at telling everyone what I was about, my credentials. I was the mod boy he'd known forever. But we did used to enjoy pulling each other's pigtails. We had a different work ethic, a different presenting style and were both trying to make the best possible show we could, and we clashed.

But we came through it. We have the best times together. Both of us work unusual hours, but we're never too busy to meet up. Normally we'll meet at a bar in central London and, depending on the day, we usually end up at my house or his until the wee early hours. At 3am I'll be drunkenly in?the middle of a monologue about how badly the world is treating us and he'll go and stick Jaws on.

His liver and kidneys are made of steel. Alex is the last man standing every time we go out. I'd help him out in a heartbeat. I'm his favourite person in the media; he hates everybody else. I like being his crutch. Our friendship has blossomed into a really great thing.

'My look became leather waistcoats and pointy boots. And it's all Dave's fault': Alex Zane. Photograph: David Fisher/Rex Features

Dave and I didn't hate each other; we're just both competitive. We'd started our careers on the same day, and when you're on the way up and someone in the same boat as you says: "I just got a job hosting another show…" you're like: "What?! I mean… congratulations."

Only once did it ever come to a confrontation with both of us standing in the middle of the XFM offices screaming at each other. We were doing a radio feature involving a series of stupid challenges and the one we came to blows over was "Who could hold their breath for the longest?" I accused Dave of breathing through his nose and he swore he wasn't. In our 11-year friendship that was our worst argument. The fact remains: he was cheating!

Now that we're older, that competitive edge is gone. We're not champing at the bit. Superficially we're not similar. But underneath we could mirror each other. Dave likes football, I?like movies. In the summer of 1995, he liked Oasis, I liked Blur.

When we meet it's a huge release of everything we've had to say to each other over the past few months. There's a great deal of hugging. Imagine those Gillette adverts where two men hug then quickly release. Yeah, ours go on for a bit longer. Every event I go to, I think: "God, I look pretty good in this suit." But no matter what, Dave will be in a better suit. It takes me back to the early years at MTV when management had to give us different identities because we both wore blazers. They said: "Alex, Dave's gonna be wearing blazers on TV, OK?" So guess what my look became? Leather waistcoats and pointy boots. And it's all Dave's fault.

Alex Zane is an ambassador for British Airways Silent Picturehouse – a pop-up film event in London (ba.com/silentpicturehouse)

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Celebs dish on their difficult marriages

Celebrity marriages are typically pretty short, but these celebrities are making it work despite the challenges.

Celine Dion knew from a young age that her husband of 18 years, Rene Angelil, was the right man for her. That's not to say marriage to the man of her dreams hasn't been hard at times.

"Rene and I had our tough times. It wasn't always easy," the French-Canadian singer said in an interview with Vegas Deluxe's Robin Leach. "We had tension between us. It's never easy being husband and wife, but add to that we are in business together, dealing with all the added pressures of shows, concerts, tours, traveling. It was hard?— a lot of hard work."

They "weren't communicating properly" until about seven years ago, Dion said. The change only came after she talked about the problems with a close girlfriend.

"She taught me it never goes away. It sits there and gets worse. She taught me how to say things the right way," Dion continued. "It's lessons that every married couple should know to hold their relationship together.

"It changed the way we related to each other," the mom of three added. Now? "We laugh. We joke. We kid each other. We want our marriage to last forever. Talk over everything and you'll find you are still on the honeymoon... communication — it's the most important. It's the secret."

Dion isn't the only celebrity willing to pull the curtain back on the problems in her seemingly perfect relationship.

Actress Gwyneth Paltrow does her best to make it seem like her life is full of goopy goodness, but she recently admitted to Glamour that her 10-year marriage to Coldplay frontman Chris Martin isn't perfect.

"It's hard being married," she said. "You go through great times, you go through terrible times. We're the same as any couple."

Paltrow added that her late father, Bruce Paltrow, gave her marriage advice.

"I asked my dad once, 'How did you and Mum stay married for 33 years?' And he said, 'Well, we never wanted to get divorced at the same time.' And I think that's what happens. When two people throw in the towel at the same time, then you break up, but if one person's saying: 'Come on, we can do this,' you carry on. I've learned more about myself by being married than anything else. I hate to say, 'We've got it worked out,' because you never know what's going to happen, but we laugh, we're good friends, we like to do the same stuff."

Her secret to a happy marriage? She doesn't try to rein in Martin.

"I'm a very grounded, homey person and Chris is a very mad scientist, genius songwriter," she said. "So I never say 'Where are you? You should be home by now.' I never place demands on him because I think he's a really talented man and he's putting something good into the world."

Ben Affleck inadvertently ignited rumors about the state of his 8-year marriage to Jennifer Garner during his Best Picture acceptance speech at the 2013 Academy Awards.

"I want to thank you for working on our marriage for 10 Christmases. It's good. It is work but the best kind of work and there's no one I'd rather work with," he told his wife.

People assumed it meant their relationship is on the rocks, but Garner later told the U.K. Telegraph that their relationship is just fine, thankyouverymuch.

"I know Ben, I knew he meant it as the hugest, warmest compliment in the world," she told the newspaper, adding that he really meant, "'What we have is really real and I value it above all."

Garner went on to say, "Poor guy. It's so horrible to put yourself out there —?he didn't have to worry about it from my point of view."

Do you agree with these celebs' views on making marriage work? Sound off below!

Why Billy Ray Cyrus and Tish Cyrus called off their divorce
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Can NeNe Leakes & Gregg Leakes make remarriage work?

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Why Billy Ray Cyrus and Tish Cyrus called off their divorce

Billy Ray Cyrus and Tish Cyrus credit marriage counseling for saving their 19-year marriage.

It looks like there's a happy ending in the Cyrus household: Billy Ray Cyrus and Tish Cyrus just revealed that they've decided to call off their divorce for a second time.

"We both woke up and realized we love each other and decided we want to stay together," Miley Cyrus' parents said in a statement. "We've had rough times but we both realized we didn't want to be another statistic and wanted to make it work."

They even celebrated their reunion with a "date night" this weekend — and Tish posted photo proof to Instagram. However, date nights aren't going to fix the deeper issues in their relationship. To deal with them, the couple has enlisted the help of a marriage therapist.

It's a wise step, says Carole Lieberman, M.D., psychiatrist and author of Bad Girls: Why Men Love Them & How Good Girls Can Learn Their Secrets.

"By revealing that they are in couples counseling, Billy Ray and Tish will inspire other couples who are having problems to get help," Dr. Lieberman told SheKnows.

She added that couples experiencing marital trouble should follow the Cyrus lead and get into couples counseling before seriously considering divorce.

"In an ideal world, couples should go to counseling before they file for divorce," Dr. Lieberman added. "Any married couple who have children should feel a responsibility to get couples counseling for at least a year before deciding to get divorced, because divorce leaves scars on children of any age."

However, don't expect it to be easy. A good marriage counselor will make couples face the tough questions.

"The keys to success in couples counseling are choosing an insightful and experienced therapist, committing to at least weekly sessions for at least a year, being open to hearing your partner and the therapist, being willing to examine your own flaws ?—?not just your partner's, and valuing the institution of marriage," Dr. Lieberman said.

Sometimes couples will find that counseling won't fix their problems, but they should continue going to help their children deal with the impending divorce.

"If Billy Ray and Tish wake up after a bad dream and decide they don't love each other, they still need to stick with the therapy," Dr. Lieberman said. "We have already seen how Miley reacts to the possibility of her parents' divorce... and they have put the rest of their children on a roller coaster as well."

Something tells us that won't happen this time.

Do you think marriage counseling will save Billy Ray and Tish Cyrus' marriage? Sound off below!

Tamera Mowry: I lost my virginity at 29... no regrets!
Wait, we thought Adam Levine was against marriage?
Celebrities and online dating: Who does it, who wants to

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Nicky Haslam and Cilla Black on their special relationship

'Cilla has taught me fortitude. She’s got huge guts, and she doesn’t act like a huge star except when she needs to': Nicky Haslam on Cilla Black. Photograph: Rex

We met on 30 January 1965. I remember it so precisely because I was guest-editing US Harpers Bazaar. Richard Avedon was shooting the whole issue, and the plan was to shoot Cilla at his studio that day. We were all staying at the Ritz and it was Winston Churchill's funeral that morning, so the three of us watched from the windows of the Ritz before heading to the studio.

At the time Cilla was a huge star – bigger than the Beatles – and she'd just had a hit with "Anyone Who Had A Heart" the year before. It was one of my most favourite songs. She was wearing a short mini-dress and she posed like this floppy doll. I still have the photographs of that day.

We hit it off straightaway and I knew we'd be friends. She was gorgeous and friendly and we shared a love of music.

Cilla and I tend to talk light-heartedly about very serious?subjects. I've always felt like I could talk to her if there was an issue, but I don't like to be too intense – there's nothing worse than boring one's friends with one's problems, is there?

I think the hardest thing Cilla's been through was when her?husband Bobby died. She was very cut up – she adored him – and I tried to be there for her as much as possible.

In a funny way, she's very motherly. She looks after people and she has that very nice nurturing, nesting quality.

Cilla has taught me fortitude. She's got huge guts, and she's self-deprecating – she doesn't act like a huge star except when she needs to, but she's not a swank. And she's game for anything. I love that about her.

Nicky Haslam's album Midnight Matinee is out on 1 July

Nicky is one of the most gorgeous men I've?ever known. The first time we met I?remember thinking how?fanciable he was. We?spent that year going to clubs like the Ad Lib and the Scotch of St James and having a brilliant time. Then in 1966 he went off to Arizona to become a cowboy. We lost touch until he came back to London in 1974. Nicky is the type of person I won't see for months, then we'll meet and it's as if not a day has passed. The last time we spent proper time together was in Barbados this year – we went for dinner the day I?arrived and spent most of the trip together.

There's more to our friendship than parties and holidays, though. If?there?was ever a serious issue he would be there for me, and in the past he certainly has been.

There's a lightness to Nicky – no?matter what your issue, after talking to him things seem OK. We've only ever had cross words once. We were on a?boat in Majorca 15 years ago?and I didn't like someone he did. We disagreed about it – had a little shout – and then it just blew over. We usually see eye to eye on people – he has a?very good instinct for what people are really like. Speaking as a person who's a?common as muck, Nicky's got style?and?class. He brings those qualities to everything he does, but he's no snob. He?has friends from all backgrounds.

We speak on the phone, but I'm not very good with technology. Recently I'd just got a new iPhone and I was trying to save his number in it late at night. Turns out I?was pressing the wrong button and I'd been sending him photographs of me in my nightie. He phoned me at 5.30 that?morning going: "Daaarling, are you OK?" – and that's him, really: caring, funny – and fabulous.

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Writers Sheila Heti and Miranda July on their special relationship

'Our friendship is very beautiful. It began with a big risk on my part and then a risk on Miranda’s side': Sheila Heti (left) about initiating a friendship with Miranda July

Our friendship is very beautiful. It began with a big risk on my part and then a risk on Miranda's side. A year and a half ago I was asked by Bad Day magazine to interview her. I nearly didn't do it, because sometimes you just have this impulse not to. But I was familiar with her work and I'd watched her movie The Future, so I came up with a bunch of questions. Two minutes in, she told me that she was pregnant, which was very open of her.

After chatting for an hour, I felt this crazy, excited sensation surging through me, and I'd never felt like that after an interview before before, so I called my friend Margot (I had to keep talking) and told her how inspired Miranda had made me.. As a journalist, you don't tend to interview people with a view to becoming their friend. You can't expect that. It's not professional. Or rational. I thought: "She'll think I want to be friends with her because she's Miranda July." But I felt a real human connection and decided not to look at the world that way. I had this instinct that we had a lot to say to each other. So I?took a leap of faith and emailed Miranda, suggesting that we speak for an hour once a week on the phone. I said I thought we had a lot to learn from each other, then I pressed "send".

A few days later I was feeling a little embarrassed because she hadn't replied, but finally she did. She said: "I had the exact same feeling!" and agreed that we should chat once a week. I was so pleased.

It was unusual to have a contract drawn up like that before we even had a friendship. Usually you don't have commitment promises in a friendship. Usually it just grows. But it was consistent: we started emailing all the time, spoke for an hour each week and built a profound friendship. One of the greatest points of pleasure in my day is getting an email from Miranda. The second is writing one back. We talk about our work, relationships, her child, how we're feeling that day or any troubles that we're having. I don't think there's anything I wouldn't say to her. We've met face to face about six times and got on just as well. There is lots of trust between us. Miranda's a big part of my life.

I was doing a ton of interviews when I met Sheila, so I was shocked that talking to her didn't feel like an interview. I was sort of taken aback by her email. I did a web search on her, which is embarrassing now – I'm cautious with people who reach out in such a forthright way. But as I read stuff she'd written and looked up her friends, who were all creative, I concluded: "Wow, I'm lucky that this person wants to talk to me for an hour a week. This girl knows what she's doing. We should be friends."

It's not always easy to make a close friend at this age. Maybe we needed that level of formality, a purpose. It feels like one of my first real adult friendships – there's not this need for parity that you get when you're younger. Or this merging. It's more intimate and more boundaried; we know what we both want. I longed for something that had the intimacy of childhood friendship – clothes, your bodies and boys – and where our lives as artists could play a huge role. We played catch-up for a while – showed each other pics of boyfriends past and present, filled each other in on our pasts.

It's a literary friendship, too. We critique each other's work. Sheila's a great support. When I had a baby I was consumed with my body. I sent her a pic of my milk-filled new breasts in the negligee I bought to make use of them. "Was that too much?" I asked. "No!" she replied. "Here are mine!"

I would love to see Sheila face to face more. There's a kind of built-in assumption that we will one day. It's amazing how little you can see people but still stay in regular contact. I've?never had a friendship like this before.

We Think Alone, a project by Miranda July, launched on 1 July. It was commissioned by Magasin 3 for On the Tip of My Tongue

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Adopted brothers Charlie and Tom Russell on their special relationship

I was two when we lived in Santiago. We had been put in touch with an adoption agency. One night Mum and Dad piled my big sister Alice and me, in our pyjamas, into the car and drove to a house. A few hours later we were on our way back home and next to us was our tiny new brother Tom, three weeks old. At first he was just a toy, someone to cuddle, prod and stare at. But as we grew older, the inherent differences between us developed into a profound brotherly love.

Tom was so giggly, and Mum would try to make him laugh hysterically as he was eating supper, which we all loved to watch. He was energetic and sweet but could also be intense.

At school, when I was nine and Tom was seven, I saw him throw something at a ruffian in my year. The ruffian started to chase Tom, and I was terrified of what would happen. But Tom fixed him with such a powerful glare – a?standoff – that he left Tom alone. I later learned that Tom had been provoked by the boy, and I've never forgotten how brave he was. From then on I knew he could handle himself. Naturally it bothered me that Tom was picked on – he was small, Chilean-looking, a?bit different. He came out at 12, which is young but testament to how at ease and honest he's always been about himself. He said: "If they don't like me it's their problem."

Tom doesn't judge, criticise or interfere in other people's lives, and when I confided in him – he's very good to talk to – about starting a business, he couldn't have been more supportive. "You'll regret it if you don't," he said.

Tom probably thinks I should initiate arranging to meet up. I always look forward to going home, as he still lives there – it's such a treat to catch up and laugh together.

I always knew I was adopted, but it wasn't the subtext to my adolescence. If anything I felt like the cute baby of the family, not the adopted one. Charlie is my irresistibly cool older brother, into boyish stuff like football, rugby and activity, while my interests have always felt a bit geekier: comics, science, gardening, etc. I used to be hyperactive – borderline ADHD, I?suppose – and this probably made it difficult to be around me. Especially as a sibling.

Growing up I liked making stuff and going on little walks by myself, but since we've got older our interests have overlapped. I started kayaking, and Charlie's just launched a business selling 20th-century furniture – which is creative. Plus, he now loves three-hour hikes in the country.

Once Charlie and I used rope and flowerpots to create a?pulley system. He took his place high up in a tree, I stood below, and we passed messages to each other all afternoon.

I did experience bullying at school, which I wasn't particularly vocal about, and when it got bad Charlie wanted to do something about it. He told me recently that he'd briefed his rugby team about doing a potential intervention and they'd agreed to help him back me. It never came to that.

Part of the reason we work so well as brothers is because there's never been any rivalry. Charlie's never had "middle-child syndrome". He's kind and loving, and one of the few people who truly understands me. I'm a quiet person and tend to procrastinate. He'll come to our parents' house, where I?live, and say: "Get up and do something!" We're both patient, something we've inherited from our dad, but you can tell he's trying to be patient while biting his tongue.

If you like unique vintage furniture, please visit Charlie's brand-new website mar-den.co.uk

To contact Tom about gardening, go to Tom The Gardener

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Rankin and his sister Susanne on their special relationship

"There's a lot of glue between us": Rankin and his sister Susanne. Photograph: Observer

When we were growing up in Glasgow Rankin could be really mean, really wild and was always late for everything. I was the more emotional, reliable one. We moved to St Albans when I was 10 and Rankin's wildness reached new levels. One New Year's Eve, he babysat while our parents were at a party. I found him in the kitchen messing about with a dead turkey. Suddenly the turkey started flapping. "It's alive!' he boomed. He'd attached it to a car battery.

Mum and Dad moved back up north during my A?levels and Rankin and I lived on our own in the family home. He'd host mad parties – on week nights – and I'd find strangers cutting each other's hair in our bathroom, bands doing photoshoots in the living room. He was always centre of attention. If I'd ever wanted to be the alpha sibling, our relationship wouldn't be as good.

By the time I finished uni, Rankin was taking photographs of well-known people: Kate Moss was always at our place. It was early days for Dazed & Confused so he asked if I wanted to help with the business side for a bit. It turned into a long time.

Eight years ago, Dad died of a heart attack and Mum of cancer three weeks later. Their death brought us even closer. Rankin developed a building for his studio, offices, and an apartment on the top floor where he lives with his wife and son, Lyle. I live on the second floor with my partner and son. Rankin takes on a lot of responsibility for lots of people, including his family. I talk more to his wife than to him sometimes, but if it's something really serious, it's my brother I turn to.

Dad and I would take the mickey out of Susanne. She bore the brunt of many a?prank. The teasing subsided when Susanne joined me at senior school. We weren't close, but I definitely looked out for her. She was five years my junior and I guess it wasn't cool to hang around with someone that much younger. .

We grew closer when we lived together on our own. I'd just left accountancy to take up photography and I was late to the industry and playing catch-up. I didn't drink until I?was 18 or 19, or smoke, or do drugs. Those mental parties I threw weren't seedy in that way. That all came later.

Success didn't just come overnight. During that time, Susanne stood by me. When things started blowing up with Dazed, her life and mine became incredibly entwined. I knew I could trust her. She was intelligent and I felt secure having her in the gang because she had my best interest at heart. She's practical, loyal and if she left the business now it would collapse. We became really close when I was 30, after my first marriage ended: she was so good with my son, Lyle.

It was important having that family time before our parents passed away. Those moments back at the house after the funerals… I consider our relationship to be very Scottish: Susanne is steady, normal, stoic and we don't hug much. I take her for granted, but I'm always there when she needs me. She knows how much I love her, but we never talk about it. There's just a lot of glue between us.

Rankin's ALIVE: In the Face of Death is at the Walker Art Gallery until 15 September as part of the LOOK/13 photo festival (lookphotofestival.com)

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Charlatans musicians Tim Burgess and Mark Collins on their relationship

'I don't know what "best friends" is – it sounds a bit playground. We're good mates': Mark Collins, right, on Tim Burgess. Photograph: Tom Sheehan for the Observer

I first saw Mark playing live in the Wallflowers at the Hacienda in Manchester back in 1991. On stage there was something typically Mancunian guitarist about him, which I thought was really cool, like Johnny?Marr. We needed a new guitarist for the Charlatans and I?asked a mutual friend to let him know.

He joined the band and we quickly became inseparable. I was 23, he was 25. We were free – young men in the wilderness, in a band and ripping up the rule book. I?remember reading Jet Black's Seven Days in Nice and getting stoned and naked while we partied. As you get older, you forget about all that?kind of stuff, but it's part of being friends. I witnessed his first serious relationship and saw him have kids.

We agreed to do the video for "North Country Boy" in New York with a ￡50,000 budget. We rented a cameraman and a director and blew the rest on first-class flights and a week at the Tribeca Grand Hotel. We were smoking whatever we could get our hands on, having parties every night. The video looks like it was made with ￡2,000. Watch it and when you see us in the back of the car you can tell we're having a good time.

There's a blurred line between our working relationship and friendship. I've been pretty demanding on Mark. I value that we are still close. He probably understands me better than anyone else. As my own relationships come and go, Mark's been a great friend. When I moved to LA I?thought he'd come, too, but he didn't. I guess I was pretty crazy to think he would. I realised that was as far as I could push him. He used to come to LA and we'd write songs. For me that was very cool, because I was doing a lot of drugs and Mark prised lyrics and music out of me when no one else would have been able to.

He's my favourite guitar player. He probably doesn't know that. He'd never think highly of himself. He needs someone who can push him and get the best out of him, and I can.

I got a phone call saying that the Charlatans needed a guitar player. Tim rooted for me to join – I think he wanted someone with a Mancunian accent rather than another Midlands one. We ended up hanging out and talking and listening to records. Tim's an avid collector, and he was my jukebox. We spent a lot of time going out, listening to music and getting smashed.

We were on holiday somewhere on the Mediterranean Spanish coast in the summer of 1994. We drifted out on lilos and the sun was beating down on us. We plotted the making of The Charlatans, the fourth album – we spent a week doing that. When we got back home we spent ages on Tim's futon in Chalk Farm, getting up every morning and writing songs.

I think I encourage Tim and I hope I push him. I can translate for him. He might have an idea he doesn't know how to get out of his head, and I'll help him do that. That's how we write songs.

This winter we hired a place on the south coast of England for a week and took our guitars down. It was absolutely freezing. We just holed up, stoked the fire 24 hours a day, drank a lot of coffee and made music. We got five new ideas. We can still handle being in the same room for weeks at a?time. That's a test of whether you are true friends.

He's a free-spirited man and a positive character to hang around. Tim's good for you. He's not obsessed with money – it doesn't matter if you've got it or you don't have a penny. I?love his desire to explore new things. It's what he's always had.

I don't know what "best friends" is – it sounds a bit playground. We're good mates, and I'm sure we will be to the end.

Tim Burgess plays Latitude Festival on 19 July (latitudefestival.com)

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