"Drama John Cassavetes style—aggressive and docu-cool. Handheld and shot in black and white (by Haskell Wexler), it had a great impact on the audience, and on me and my windup Bolex as I tried to figure out how to shoot a scene. Great storytelling."

"This was the book that made my John Updike collection pretty much superfluous. In one big, sprawling, ambitious novel, DeLillo captures the soul of white America at its most optimistic, soaring and sad — an amazing achievement. You can read this and look at what the country is now and cry tears."

"An early sixties, black and white British gem from John Schlesinger. Tom Courtenay plays a dreamer who wants to bust out of his small town with the help of Julie Christie. One of the saddest endings to a comedy I’ve ever seen. I saw John Schlesinger give a Q&A after a special screening at the Film Forum, and he said he didn’t feel that the ending was sad at all, just appropriate to Billy’s character."

"I love Banana to bits, but the third one is my favourite, it’s the one that I play more. I don’t know exactly what it is about it. I bought their albums in order, but there was something about ‘Candy Says’ and ‘Jesus’ – maybe because I’d just got the White Light/White Heat album I wanted proper songs, and he delivered big time on this one. Even ‘Murder Mystery’ I like. I’m not the biggest John Cale fan, his voice gets on my wick. It was just at the time that Ziggy ended, it almost broke my heart. I had these magical split-second things – it was like being in love, but with someone from Venus, and then Lou came along and I knew he would get me through it."

"That moment I had when I was young, listening to White Light/White Heat by The Velvet Underground… I mentioned there's a song called 'The Gift', and John Cale narrates it. It's about a man who mails himself to his girlfriend as a present. She opens it, and she fucking kills him. I remember… I didn't realise John Cale was Welsh when I was 15. I remember listening to that song and I was like, "Fuck me! That sounds like a Welsh voice!". My mind exploded: one of the pivotal members of The Velvet Underground was a Taff! Anything is possible baby… I really got into John Cale from that moment onwards. I think if you get into John Cale you go to Paris 1919, which is an amazing album and some would say his best, but Slow Dazzle really pushes it for top spot. Number one, it has one of the best covers of all time: he does a cover of 'Heartbreak Hotel' which is a brilliant, brilliant cover. And he goes from that to 'Ski Patrol', and there's another song called 'I'm Not The Loving Kind', which is almost like a Harry Nilsson, beautifully orchestrated, melancholic plea to a lover. So he goes from serrated acuteness of 'Heartbreak Hotel' to the lushness of 'I'm Not The Loving Kind', which is just one of the great motivational songs of all time. In a strange way it just motivates you so much. This is where John Cale got his game together: he realised he was an experimental musician who could also write amazing tunes. And this is where you actually hear him not scared of his voice anymore. This was the start of his true greatness. As a solo artist he's nearly unsurpassable to me."

"Almost everything I have tried to say, Yoko Ono was saying over 30 years ago. For half a century, she has been a prophet in our midst. On WARZONE, producer Thomas Bartlett sets her sage voice amid the barest of arrangements, shining a light once and for all on the essence of Ono’s legacy.A recent Netflix film revealed that Yoko cowrote the words for “Imagine,” one of the songs for which John Lennon was deified. It is pure Yoko that she would sit silently next to John as he sang it, knowing the world would listen to her message if it seemed to be from the perspective of her partner, a white, male English megastar. Yoko Ono has given and given to us. She is one of the most brilliant and generous artists of the 20th century, and the public record now reflects this."