"I’ve got a weird story about when I first heard “Good Vibrations”. I was really scared of going to the dentist and my Mum had made me this appointment. I was literally terrified, we were sitting in the waiting room, there was a radio and “Good Vibrations” came on. Then they called my name to go into the dentist and I was still really scared, but at the same time this beautiful thing was coming out of the speakers “When I went in, they had the radio on in there as well. It was absolutely mad and my emotions were on edge, but I just couldn’t get over hearing that song. I don’t know if it was because I was in that situation and really hyped up emotionally, but every time I hear that song I remember that feeling. “It really stuck with me and obviously when I hear it now, it’s such a brilliant record, but it’s great that you can hear something that brilliant when you’re sitting in a waiting room, in a place where you’d hardly expect to have a musical revelation. “It’s funny how you used to listen to the radio more back in those days. I wouldn’t have had the ready cash to go out and buy “Good Vibrations”, so I’d just listen to the radio until it came on. People did that more, you’d have little transistor radios everywhere and you’d be waiting for your favourite music to come on, and when something came on you loved you’d turn it up"

"For obvious reasons, since her passing, I’ve been playing it a bit, and it’s a fucking great album. I think it was Tony Bennett who said she had the voice in which he could recognise the echoes of the truly great singers. Again, she had that spontaneity: she could do five different versions of the same song and they’d all be equally good. And that’s the sign of a real soul singer. I did meet her a few times, I used to see her around Camden, and my daughters used to know her a bit, being Camden girls, and it was sad seeing her demise. She was this healthy, vibrant girl and bit by bit you saw that change. Really tragic, and especially when you hear how great that album was. It’s funny, even in our heyday, people in Camden would leave us alone a bit. There wasn’t that tabloid hunger in those days, and there wasn’t a lot of music in the papers. Also, we weren’t in the girly market. Girls didn’t like Madness, so there was no point in writing about us! So we avoided all that. But now of course there’s the internet, and all these fucking virals or whatever they are, and everyone’s got a camera on their phone, and if Amy wanted to go and hang out at the pub, she just couldn’t. And at the very end, all she wanted to do was come back to Camden. Hopefully in time people will remember her as a brilliant singer, and forget all the other nonsense."

"I guess I’ll have to start with Songs from the Second Floor, which is a film by Roy Andersson, who is a brilliant Swedish filmmaker who basically… He made a feature in the ’70s called A Swedish Love Story that is a really wonderful, strange, funny, acerbic commentary on Sweden that became this huge hit. I think it was the biggest hit ever in Sweden. And then he delved into making commercials for a long time, and he developed this new style over the course of something like 300, 400, 500 commercials. Then, in the early 2000s, he came out with this film that took him several years to make called Songs from the Second Floor, which is like a parody of obsessive perfectionism. He’s very similar Jacques Tati in that he works primarily with stationary wide shots, and he’s always building sets. All of the sets in his films are built from scratch, and the reason his films take so long to make is because each each vignette is one shot, and the set for that shot tends to take a month to build. There’s just like these gorgeous paintings, and there’s this really singular, dark, dry, sad wit driving everything he does. Since Songs from the Second Floor he’s come out with two other films that play like spiritual sequels, You the Living and A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence, which I think you can see on Netflix. But Songs from the Second Floor remains the most perfect of the films, in my opinion."

"In the ’90s and 2000s, HBO Docs and HBO Films were making some of the most incredible documentaries ever. Even while these weren’t being released in theaters, docs were having this crazy renaissance. I have no idea who was in charge or what was happening, but every month there would be some insane, amazing documentary coming out. This one is disturbing. They’re all disturbing, but in a way I find interesting. Maybe because that can make you feel better… I don’t know, but I am interested in this. I really like the backdrop, which is mid- to late-’90s small-town rave culture. This dad has an 18-year-old son and a 16-year-old daughter who are in the rave scene. He’s a preacher, a normal guy, married, has two kids. One day, for whatever reason, he’s like, “Fuck the life I built, I am going to go to the rave with my kids.” He takes ecstasy and becomes their peer: a gnarly, insane raver. He leaves his wife, he gets an apartment with his son, he’s taking ecstasy every night. It’s also funny and obviously more fucked up because it’s real. What I love about documentaries is that Hollywood would take that movie and turn it into a broad comedy and it would be, “Dad parties with his kids!” But to me it’s a drama, it gets into the complexities of what drives someone to do this, how it feels for their kids and for their ex-wife, what experiences led him to break."