The conceptual artist Jeremy Deller grew up in London, and studied at the Courtauld and then Sussex University. His many inspirations include pop culture, folk tradition, history and music, and he frequently works with communities.

His collaborations include The Battle of Orgreave (2001), when 1,000 people recreated a violent clash between police and pickets during the 1980s miners’ strike, and We’re Here Because We’re Here, when 1,600 people dressed in first world war uniforms to commemorate the centenary of the battle of the Somme. Deller won the Turner prize in 2004 and represented Britain at the 55th Venice Biennale in 2013. He is currently helping to organise the 50th birthday celebrations for the Rio cinema in Dalston (details on their website in next couple of weeks) on 18 April and will be appearing at the Laugharne Weekend (20-22 March), where the Nerve is the media partner.

It is nice to know that someone at this time in their career is redefining the idea of a gig. He is someone who is not burdened by his back catalogue. The concert is clearly meticulously rehearsed but seems spontaneous – in a way that reminds me of Prince who, like Byrne, wanted everyone to have the time of their lives.

For the first 100 pages alone, where Chaplin describes his upbringing in Kennington and Walworth, the word “Dickensian” has never been more apt. There is footage of him on YouTube in the 1950s wandering around the same bomb-damaged streets trying to make sense of it all.

Apps’s previous book, Show Me the Bodies – is the definitive account of the Grenfell fire and the building industry's culpability – everyone should read his follow-up for an explanation of why housing is in such a mess in this country. Not surprisingly, it's quite a stressful experience reading about recent history like this, especially if you live in London and have witnessed it firsthand.

I am actually reading this at the moment so unless the final two-thirds are awful this is definitely one to recommend. I don’t read enough fiction but I should, as it's less stressful than the non-fiction titles I do read (see above). This novel is the one Jonathan Glazer loosely based his film on. It is a complex read, not least because you find yourself enjoying a novel about what is effectively the petty office politics – and sexual intrigue – of a concentration camp.

Why this is not spoken about in any conversation about telly I don’t know – maybe it is, but not enough. This is the darkest, and therefore the best, TV comedy since Peep Show and The Office. In the best possible sense it feels barely acted. I can’t believe these characters are not real people. It's as if Here We Go went to the dark side.

I got really confused about this franchise putting out two films with, essentially, the same title. Luckily I saw them the wrong way round, as part two (28 Years Later: The Bone Temple) was much better and I might not have seen it if I had started with part one (28 Years Later). See how confusing this is already. It's a surprisingly funny film, considering all the killing and torturing, and has within it possibly the best use of a rock song ever in cinema.

Pillion is a great film, indeed a love story of sorts that is also an examination of that most fetishistic of subcultural kinks – midcentury modern suburban architecture. 

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