"I first heard Nirvana probably when I was 11 or 12. There was an older kid in my neighbourhood who used to listen to them on a boom box on the back of his BMX, but I didn't know what it was. I remember it sounding like a car crash, like nothing I'd ever heard before, so violent and aggressive. Also this kid was pretty cool, he had a chopper bike and a jean jacket, he might even have had one tattoo. I just remember thinking 'he's a badass', while I was on my neon bike and wearing shorts. I didn't stand a chance. I never spoke to him, I just asked his little brother what it was, and then later I was in a record store with my mum and we saw Nirvana Unplugged…, and I said 'I love this band!'. I think she was so shocked that I had said I loved anything at all that she bought the album on cassette and it was what we listened to on the school run. It was then I first started truly caring about delivery, I'm less bothered about the actual songs. I'm interested in art, I consider myself an artist more than a musician because I can't actually play an instrument. I nearly chose Bleach because that's catharsis on tape, but everything about Nevermind is iconic, it's got everything you could want from Nirvana."

"This is my favorite film. By all accounts, the making of Godard’s first commercial movie was a nightmare for him, and you can see his own contempt written all over it. First he tells us that what we are about to see is fake, and then he proceeds to mock the commercial film industry for the rest of the movie. Some moments in the dialogue seem intentionally ludicrous, like when Paul describes his relationship with Camille through a heavy-handed interpretation of the Odysseus/Penelope myth. The stream of visual absurdities (Prokosch’s tiny book, Paul typing with two fingers, even the final car crash) discourages us from ever taking anything too seriously. Yet because Godard never tries to make us buy into a bunch of psychological hoopty-hoo, this film is devastating and feels realer as a depiction of a crumbling relationship than anything else I’ve ever seen. We’ve all known this couple: after the first flush of romance, the woman finds herself financially dependent on some self-centered, brutish mediocrity with a roving eye. We watch Camille vacillate between the horns of her dilemma in a totally believable way before making the decision to leave Paul and go back to being a typist. As the only non-cartoon character, with her convincing mix of youthful insecurity and defiant self-regard, Camille becomes the whole world of the film. The cinematography and score are perfect, and the final shot of the Mediterranean destroys me every time."