"When I was about 16 or 17 I bought my first stereo unit. It had white speakers. Up to that point we'd only had a radiogram in our house, so this was the first time I'd heard stereo. I'd put my head between the two speakers on the floor and just listen to this record over and over again, I just couldn't believe it. It's an underrated record, but I think it's a fantastic album, it's got some really great songs on. Sonically, if you listen to it through really good speakers it sounds amazing. Now I've got bigger speakers I put it on really really loud. I've got a place in Maine, that's where the loud equipment is, and that's in the middle of the woods so I can play stuff as loud as I like."

"1977. I'm a sixteen-year-old kid and glam rock has died. Disco has come in but this saved my life. Lennon once said to Bowie that glam rock was just 'rock & roll with lipstck' and if that's the case then punk was glam without the musicianship. It certainly wasn't disco and it sure as fuck wasn't overblown proggy stuff. They blew Yes and Genesis and all that stuff out of the water. They took us back to the three minute pop song. Punk songs were short and sweet. That first Clash record was amazing. There was a huge amount of melody on that record that nobody ever takes any notice of. Mick Jones was a huge Mott the Hoople fan - he was a member of the Sea Divers [the Mott fan club] and used to follow them around the country. 'Janie Jones' is brilliant; their version of 'I Fought The Law' is just outstanding, the best ever recorded. They might have written better songs on London Calling but, as an album, this was a breath of fresh air amongst the 70s stuff. I was still playing Diamond Dogs and Ziggy but this was like a newer version. When punk started kicking off it was brilliant, because they all came to Sheffield - more so than the glam bands. I could actually go and see them. I saw the Clash, the Ramones, Slaughter and the Dogs, Eddie and the Hotrods, Dr Feelgood - that whole intersection with pub rock. It was a lifesaver."

"What don’t I love about Taxi Driver? Taxi Driver is my favorite performance, and it’s my favorite score — Bernard Hermann, man. I was talking to someone today about why it’s the greatest film of all time. It turns this kind of sadistic ticking time bomb of a man who’s falling apart at the seams into this dreamy, seductive, gorgeous portrait of a vulnerable person. It turns all this sadism and all that deep hatred for the world into this empathetic, Holden Caulfield-type, just deeply pained truth. Not even to mention how it ties into today’s isolation. It’s a movie made in the ’70s that’s more relevant now than ever. It’s needed to show how this sort of isolation, this sort of alienation, can lead to rage and vengeance, but can also be used for good. It’s this crazy luck of the draw — Travis Bickle could have gone in either direction. He could have become this horrible man who murders a bunch of innocent people, but then he latches onto the idea that he has to murder all the bad people. I find that to be such a beautiful concept. Not to mention that it’s shot with these gorgeous reds and greens that are so lush. To watch, it’s like chewing a chocolate bar. It just melts in your mouth, that film. It’s everything I love about movies. It’s the smoothest, most velvet, but also the roughest and the deepest pit of despair you could go into. It’s everything. It’s everything in one film."