"Rick Rubin embraced Johnny Cash when he was floundering without a label. Rick thought this was unthinkable. He started soliciting writers beyond the country community and they did two great, odd, dark records. I wound up writing a song called 'I Witnessed A Crime' without knowing that Rick was going in this more contemporary vein. I later discovered it was too mid-’50s; too perfect for old-school Johnny Cash. So it didn't reach release until it was bootlegged out of the studio and found its way to YouTube. 

Rick called me up – I live just walking distance from house-to-house: ""Can you come over?"" I said, ""Well, you still got that old Fender guitar down there? If you let me play it I'll come on down."" He had this stunning Fender Esquire from 1954. I walked down and the door opened up, he ushered me into the living room and sitting on the sofa was Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash. I was dumbfounded. So we sat down this close and he said, ""I like that song."" June started welling up and said, ""Ooh, you played the solo just like Luther Perkins."" I said, “Well, I'd like you to help me get through it.” We wound up singing it across the table. Little did I know that Rick had hidden microphones, capturing the whole thing."

"It’s hard for me to narrow it down to my favorite directors and favorite actors, too, but I love Matt Dillon. I love Beautiful Girls and I love Flamingo Kid — he’s responsible for a lot of my favorites, but I’m gonna have to pick Drugstore Cowboy. I saw it when I was a kid and I felt like it was such a different culture than any that I’d ever been exposed to, and I felt like instantly I was a part of it — even though I had no frame of reference. I mean, I wasn’t a “kid,” I was 14 or 15. I had started getting into, you know, that sort of pretentious high school literate phase where you start reading, like, Kerouac and Ginsberg and, I don’t know — I loved that world, that romanticized, thuggy, kind of petty crime world. I really romanticized it myself and just wanted to be a part of that world; there was something exciting about that for me. And I love the way it’s shot. I love the drugged out scenes; I love the way [Gus Van Sant] shoots with cut-outs, those kind of simple, free-floating cut-outs to convey the psychedelic scenes. It was one of my very first exposures to that style of filmmaking that was a lot more patient and took its time and allowed itself to breathe. And from there I got into, like Hal Hartley and the independent movies of the ’90s. But my love of that type of film all started with Drugstore Cowboy."

"I heard this around second year at school, I must have been about 13. I bought it on vinyl and just caned it. The production on it is great. The Meteors were completely obsessed with 1950s music, doo-wop, rockabilly. And they were purists, you know. They despised people like the Stray Cats and the Polecats and the more charty bands of the time. Nigel Lewis, the bass player, I was quite influenced by his voice. In early Sleafords stuff I try and mimic it a little. It still sounds great. It's almost comical, lots of horror references. The Meteors invented psychobilly, there weren't any psychobilly bands around before them. It would be interesting to talk to Nigel Lewis, I tried to contact him but he never really got back to me. He left after the first album and they went to shit after that really. Well, now it sounds alright. But they got more thuggish, it wasn't very intelligent. There was a little bit of nerdiness about it at the beginning. Once Nigel Lewis left, P Paul Fenech got really arrogant and it married itself to the scooter scene at the time, which was predominantly white lads on scooters, pilot jackets, skinheads. It wasn't a very nice scene at all. There was a streak of racism, very misogynistic as well, just not very intelligent. Scooter rallies were quite hostile environments, you know. I went to one in Donnington in about 1984 and Desmond Dekker played and there were skinheads trying to get onstage and batter him with pieces of wood. It was just terrible. There was a little mod contingent but it was mostly this new breed of second generation mods who turned out to be scooter boys and psychobillies as well, the two things merged almost, it wasn't very nice. I was interested in the scooter thing and mod thing but I wasn't too taken with this, ""Oh fuck off, get your tits out!"" thing, and there was a lot of that. It just wasn't very inspiring."

"I bought this at university, mainly because of the cover art, I admit. I had a very small record collection then. You did in those days, and because you didn't have a lot, you'd play every record again and again. My dad, Tom, was a bandleader, so there was a lot of jazz in the house. He liked people like Count Basie and Woody Herman, but he stopped at Coltrane. He found the modernism of it difficult, but I loved it. It felt like a big thing for me, when I was a precocious teenager. The first jazz I had found for myself!

This is a real fork-in-the-road album for jazz, too, from 1958, a proper boundary between hard bop and the future. The three-part horn arrangements are something I tried to emulate on the first track of [Everything But The Girl's 1984 album] Each And Every One, too – in my own way of course. The album was only his second, and him early on as a session leader. There's so much life in it, and so many ideas. 
"