"It’s probably not cool to admit you don’t quite get a cult movie. But it’s probably better than trying to act cool by pretending you really dig a movie that you don’t fully understand. There are several other films on the Criterion label that I could expound on sincerely and endlessly: Life of Brian, Robocop, Straw Dogs, Hard Boiled, and The Red Shoes, for example. Instead, for the eleventh movie in my top ten, I would like to include a film that has become something of an intangible Magic Eye picture for me: Monte Hellman’s Two-Lane Blacktop. There is no movie that I have watched more often in an attempt to unpeel and unravel it. I have seen the film many times, first on Alex Cox’s BBC2 series Moviedrome, once at the theater, and many times in this very Criterion edition. Hell, I even visited some of the locations on a Route 66 trip. Still, I’ll admit that the movie is an endearing puzzle for me. I may not be the right age or nationality to fully crack the enigma of this movie, but the fact that I haven’t stopped trying in twenty-three years has to stand for something. Ryan O’Neal’s character from The Driver and Kowalski from Vanishing Point I feel I can race alongside, but James Taylor and Dennis Wilson always seem way ahead of me, their Chevy a mirage in a heat haze. But the fact that I’m talking about it now and waxing lyrical over it means that it has got under my skin in a way that other movies haven’t. And I will continue to pursue this film, even if I never quite catch up."

"This was the basis for the baseline in Sleaford Mods, fucking great stuff. Stuff like 'The Lurch'. They did a cover of the Gun Club's 'Sex Beat', that's great. Most of Weatherall's work is bass heavy, it's solo stuff. Wrong Meeting, the album that came after this, that's bass-led. There's a rockabilly feel to it. But with From The Double Gone Chapel it's 80s synths, bass, car alarms. The inner sleeve, which is just a coffee stain and a packet of Marlboro Lights next to it, that really influenced me. Same with Mike Skinner's sleeve where he's just sat in his flat with a pint, it's just fucking brilliant. That's how it is, he's not pretending to be anything. Those things merge, all of it is a big melting pot. I think I've hit it good with the albums that I have chosen for you as far as my contribution to Sleaford Mods. I mean, Andrew, whatever he makes, I go with. Initially, when we started doing Wank, the album before Austerity Dogs, I would have said to Andrew that I want a big heavy bass and I want a dusty Wu Tang thing. He took that on board and made it his own, then he would bring these slices of music to me and I thought the sound wasn't something I'd really go for, but it was quite good. I don't tell him anything any more, he just gets on with it. This the band I've been trying so hard to get into. I think we've been very lucky, regardless of the hard work and the shit me and Andrew went through, it was luck as well. I feel quite grateful that it happened to us."

"The thing about Cat Stevens is I probably prefer Mona Bone Jakon as far as the songs and production goes, it's a little bit starker, a little rawer than the other ones, but the reason I picked Tea For The Tillerman was because of the song 'Father And Son'. It's not my favourite Cat Stevens song at all but it was written for a musical that was never made called Revolutia, a blended word of 'revolution' and 'Russia'. The song sort of doesn't make sense - why is this one guy singing both of these characters? It's Cat Stevens singing the high voice and the low voice - and you wondered, god, this guy was probably at the height of his worldwide fame and he's obviously a master craftsman, he can crank out the songs but why couldn't he get this musical made? Or maybe he didn't want to - it seems like he wanted to and it just never happened. Then he was like, oh, just put it out on the next album. And I think there's a couple of other songs that seem like they could be from that same musical - 'But I Might Die Tonight' I think is kind of similar. All these albums that I really love from the 70s and late 60s - David Bowie's Diamond Dogs or The Kinks' Arthur, and they are songs from musicals basically, but it doesn't make sense there's this one guy singing it. Maybe it's ego or something, but that's why I picked that album. I looked up on Wikipedia what the reviewers thought of the album and I think the Rolling Stone guy talked about "Cat Stevens' occasional overuse of dynamics", which was the thing we were trying to do with Break Line, make things dynamic - start small and get big, and it's just so funny that at that time a reviewer would be like, "I'm sick of all these dynamics - I want more compression!"