"I was reading Dorian Lynskey’s amazing 33 Revolutions Per Minute book, and I went and investigated this song because he’d written about it. I like it when writing affects the ability to understand music, because I grew up reading NME and Melody Maker, Record Mirror, all telling me why some record was amazing. And then I’d give it a listen and I might not like it at first. But then because the writing about the record was so amazing I would believe that there was something there and I’d often grow to love it. After reading the book, suddenly the lyrics are really flying out at you. “I’ve even stopped believing in prayer”: sometimes one line conveys the utter lack of hope in a situation."

"I’m still trying to learn the pickpocket techniques demonstrated in this Sam Fuller classic. It was my introduction to film noir—a late-night-TV memory that wouldn’t let me go back to sleep. I am still trying to be as brave and cocky as Thelma Ritter, or as wanton as Jean Peters in the clutch—“Sometimes you look for oil, you hit a gusher.” And if I ever have as satisfying a bowl of chow fun as they do in South Street’s Chinatown . . . I’ll die happy. This is supposed to be a little McCarthy-era rant against the Reds, but it’s really about “civilians” versus the lumpenproletariat, artists on the game, loyal to a code that the squares will never understand."

"I grew up watching western films, and for someone to slow down the pacing to a sort of a western drama — I just thought was so incredibly well done. The acting in it was absolutely phenomenal. The cinematography of it was beautiful. The tone, the production — just everything about it. Go down the list of everything about all the departments of a film and I feel like everybody nailed it on that one — just knocked it out of the park. It’s just such a beautiful piece of film to watch. Sometimes I like to just play it in the background with the volume off — just to be looking at the imagery of it. Oh, man. Watch it with the lights off. It’s awesome."