"Iggy reminds me a lot of me. And it's all in that name; it's all in the title of that album. It’s raw power, you know? I like the funk that David Bowie was able to get behind Iggy. Believe it or not, I first saw an image of Iggy Pop at church, and they were talking about secret messages and backward masking - and they had [a picture of] Iggy Pop looking crazy. I didn't get into it until later, but I think how I was introduced to it was 'I Wanna Be Your Dog'. And what I like about Iggy is it's just genuine raunch. And the album seems like it’s all done in one take. 'Let's do that one, leave it, just try something else'. With his energy on stage, it seems as if the studio was just destroyed after that album - or at least you'd like to believe that. I just read an interview with him in which he said he wrote a lot of it in Hyde Park sitting under a tree wearing pyjama's too, which gave it a cool twist as well. I just love 'Search And Destroy' and 'I Need Somebody' as well."

"She made three in the series, this, then II and III. This one is about hardcore punk in L.A. in the early ’80s so there’s a lot of Black Flag and that whole scene. Its aesthetic was one of the main influences that Chris Blauvelt and I used for Mid90s – for the way things looked, the way the backstage in the apartment looked, for the 16 mm. It’s a remarkable and encompassing snapshot of a scene that I’m personally drawn to, and the ethics and aesthetics of the film are as fucked up and raw as what it’s depicting. The crazy thing is that Penelope Spheeris started as a punk doc maker and ended up directing broad ’90s comedies - she made Wayne’s World (1992)! She also made Suburbia (1983), which is amazing, and another influence for Blauvelt and I. The main thing I did when I became a known as a an actor and had access to people and filmmakers, was me saying, like, “Hi, I’m the kid from Superbad, can I please have all the Decline movies?” That’s how I abused fame at that time."

"Number two I would say is Less Than Zero, which, you know… there’s a point in [Take Me Home Tonight] where we kind of go “across the tracks” in Los Angeles, which is the Hills. The Valley was a big deal; it’s where the majority of the movie takes place, but then we go to a different party, kind of a banker’s party, and that’s going over the hill into Beverly Hills. I realized when I first moved to LA that there was a big difference between the Sunset Strip and Los Angeles proper, and then going over into the Valley, which is more of a hometown community. It’s crazy that the Hills is kind of those train tracks, so to speak, and we really wanted to focus on that second party as in Less Than Zero. That’s what we were going for. The atmosphere in there, we really wanted to see that side of the ’80s too, which is very different. You would say the other side is maybe Valley Girl, and that kind of party, and this side is Less than Zero."

"This is my favourite tune ever. I can’t really describe what it is about it, it just gives me a feeling. It’s been my favourite tune for years and years and I guess that now, because I’ve loved it for so long, it’s a nostalgic feeling but I still find myself listening to it a lot. It’s still very, very current in my life - me and Laurie actually tried to learn it so that we could cover it recently, but it’s quite hard with two people! “I’d always heard it but I never really acknowledged it. We were playing a gig at The Black Heart in Camden, at this tiny little venue upstairs, and a DJ was playing it and I was ‘Oh fuck, I love this tune.’ I’d never realised how much I loved it, so I Shazamed it and I’ve just loved it ever since. “It’s so straight-up, ‘She drives me crazy’ is such a great, straight-up lyric. I love the video, I love the tune, the instrumentation is so cool and his voice is so cool. It’s just a good bit of pop and no other song has beaten it for me."

"I don't like all of the record, but I forgive the bits of it that are drenched in too much Marty Ballin, because other than that there's 'White Rabbit', 'Somebody to Love'... There's that crazy reverbed out acoustic piece, 'Embryonic Journey', that I've been playing at parties at my house and no one knows what it is. It's otherwordly. And I like that era of radical San Francisco glamour, there's an element of that in Big Brother and the Holding Company too. There's something about the way the guitars and drums were compressed together that I like. I like that era of Grace Slick, she's at the peak of discovering her dynamics and her voice. Even lyrically, she comes out with some cool shit, she's so confident and so free that we get those great, simple songs. When she gets to that very last "feed your head", it's just a perfect moment. They build to that and it's completely perfect. You couldn't write it that way, you couldn't think to do it, you just have to do it and hope you don't fuck it up."

"From the moment Lou Castel literally falls from the sky into the film, one knows that one has signed up for one darn crazy ride. Of all the films in the collection this is the one that spells y-o-u-t-h with the greatest virulence. It captures its never abetted sense of social claustrophobia and, its consequence, its recurrent fantasies of murder and mayhem. For anyone, anywhere, at any time, who uttered, “Families, I hate you!” this film should be the Bible. Nervy, hilarious, and bleaker than bleak, it manages to make you believe the impossible, namely that a filmmaker could take a trip on the Rimbaud side of the street and not come out looking ridiculous. And, as an added bonus, for those who want to understand the sixties beyond the banalities that are ritually uttered about them, every scene of Fists in the Pocket, with the convulsive beauty of its framing and composition, amply proves how much this period was made by people so steeped in classical culture that they fantasized it could be solid beyond its fragility, shaking it to the core and ultimately ushering in a world they could themselves hardly live in."

"I got dragged to this by some young relatives in Greece after a frustrating day in an immigration office thanks to Brexit. I hadn’t seen the first three installments and the film was dubbed in Greek, which hindered my grasp to some degree, only it turned out to be one of my most memorable experiences in a cinema and a lot of that was down to the uninhibited audience. I saw the film in the same open-air cinema (on the outskirts of Athens) where I saw “Dirty Dancing” over 30 years ago, which was even wilder with the beyond capacity audience who went crazy when the film’s climactic dance erupted. Though not reaching the euphoric audience chaos of the latter film, “Toy Story 4” was a timely reminder of how valuable and downright memorable a communal cinema experience is. I was completely swept up in the highs and lows of the film and never imagined that the fate of a single-use plastic item could reduce adults to tears. It was funny, scary and heavy on the heart in places. I actually bought it on DVD hoping to repeat the experience."

"Yeah, and The Island of Lost Souls is amazing, from 1932 with Charles Laughton as Dr. Moreau. That movie is amazing. That movie’s dark. For anyone who hasn’t seen it, the extras — I mean, even now you watch like, this is really disturbing. The extras are supposed to be the half-man/half-animal people. You can tell they got really bizarre-looking extras before they did the makeup, and everybody looks like they’re deformed and f—ed up. Again, Lugosi plays the leader of the beast men. He’s not in it a lot, but of course he has the line that everybody remembers about the House of Pain: “He who breaks the law goes back to the House of Pain.” He’s in the movie for five minutes and steals the movie. Charles Laughton is incredible. But it’s demented again. The basic premise is a crazy one. They have the beast men and they’re being operated on and just screaming. It’s like, “This is not fun.” You have little kids running out of the theater in tears, or adults. It’s amazing. Still amazing. The cinematography’s amazing. Everything about it is just incredible."

"Was it their first album? I don't even know. This and Court And Spark were both records that my parents played when I was young, and I hated. But they didn't play either album that much. My parents are really great but they didn't play them obsessively; they would play favourite songs or pick selections. I listened to this properly when I was maybe 21. It was exciting and dramatic and glamorous. There were these moments, like oboe solos and stuff, that were almost hippy-ish, but they worked so well within the music. I don't know if 'hippy-ish' is the word but I was really into this idea of the instruments going wild and going crazy. An oboe: so cool and weird and a unique combination of timbres. Then, of course, there's the romantic quality of Bryan Ferry's voice, which is why I also love his solo music. And the later Roxy Music, I love also, which everyone thinks is bad but - no, they don't! A lot of people love it. It surprises me that he wrote all the songs on this album. I never knew that."