"I became obsessed with horror at a very early age. Knowing this, my dad would often recall the greatest horror film he ever saw. It was black and white, it was French, and it was, in his words, “really, really gory.” He would tell me it was about a mad surgeon who tries to restore the face of his daughter, disfigured in a car accident, by mutilating young women and stealing their fair skin. And he would go on and on about how great it was, how scary it was, and how I would simply have to see it. But . . . He could not recall the name of the film. I tried to cross-reference with horror guidebooks in the library, but without the invention of the Internet and plot keywords, I was left stumped for a long time. Years later, I saw Eyes Without a Face and called my dad immediately. I told him the crucial fact he’d been missing, the actual name of the greatest horror film he had ever seen. I then agreed with him that, yes, it was a quite extraordinary film."

"This album was massive for me. Still is. I first heard this on a cassette in the post from my brother with a note saying, "Demis Roussos on bass!" He put two tracks on there and they both blew my mind. I knew immediately I needed to find this record but was convinced it was incredibly obscure. A few weeks later, I was in this old drill hall in Falmouth that doubled up as a house-clearance furniture shop. Flicking through the records in there, between multiple copies of No Jacket Required and some Cornish male-voice choir stuff, there was 666. I bought it and raced home and was pretty pleased to hear it was a lot more bonkers than I could ever have imagined. This album is properly bonkers. The gatefold sleeve has a 2CV crashed into a wall; the music is so incredibly inspirational. As a piece of work it's outside of any frame of reference – it's like discovering a new colour or a new flavour. Every time I see a copy I have to buy it – I give it to anyone I know who doesn't have it yet."